The yellow beach
an edited very old poem
Do you remember that yellow beach
behind those moon-like cliffs?
When I stroll my mind’s mazy streets
memory gets richer.
It’s like the candles in a chapel
up on a visionary mountain
of thyme and honeysuckle.
And what about little Dina’s
all kids waiting for their turn,
to push the winner of hide and seek,
an odd honor, as odd as the night
the ship of life disappeared on the horizon
that the Lighthouse stared at indefinitely
and ever since in vain.
Athens, 1996 – translated from Greek in 2020