To stare at you, sea, never to get enough of you,
from the mountain up high
level and all-blue and become richer within
from your numerous gold.
An autumn afternoon, when
-after a sudden downpour-
the sun with no cloak on
rushes through clouds dazzlingly laughing.
Islands to travel in the air, capes,
beaches like silken sea-urchins
and sometimes a ship with the company of seagulls
is carried away by the open skies.
Refreshed by the bath, the pine trees
the golden pine trees,
and their smelling hair dripping flowers of gold
rush down the red slope in a dancing mood
and drag along them in their shining dance
inside the water
the desolate snow-houses -and these inside their dream
sing, being asleep for a long time.
Thus to stand, sea, my ever-lasting love,
to enjoy you with blurred eyes
and things to come spread before me in your stretch,
troubles behind me and far away.
Until sometime you take me, you saucy little thing,
upon your high-flowering breasts
and lead me far away from this black Hell,
far away from the black damned...
Kostas Varnalis, Poiitika. To fos pou kaiei. Sklavoi Poliorkimenoi,
Poiimata, Athens, Kedros editions, 1984, pp. 9-10.
|
