Sky: our own clouds

 





Seferis George poetry
"Strophe"
Moment sent by a hand
that I had so much loved
you reached me almost at dusk
like a black dove
The road shone before me
soft breath of sleep
at the end of a secret feast…
Moment grain of sand
that you alone kept
the tragic clepsydra whole
silent as though it had seen Hydra
in the heavenly orchard

( The above poem is selected and translated in English by Manolis for his 2012 collection titled “George Seferis – Collected Poems”)

Yannis Ritsos

Closed shops. Flour spilt upon the pavement.
Sandbags heaped by the shelter. Hands folded,
sad, he sits behind the garden's gate. A mob
of swallows flies over, their shadows crossing
his face. He bends over and gathers flowers.
He makes a wreath. Will he put it on?

(translated by Scott King)