THE ESSENCE OF THINGS
Dim corridors.
Built-in doors.
You run after someone to talk to.
You splash in water.
You bump against tied hands.
Millions of lights blaze
over your head.
They go out.
Then they aim at your neighbour
and fall on him like crows.
A third one tries to weep.
Built-in doors.
You run after someone to talk to.
You splash in water.
You bump against tied hands.
Millions of lights blaze
over your head.
They go out.
Then they aim at your neighbour
and fall on him like crows.
A third one tries to weep.
Kondos Yannis poetry
translation is taken from.poiein.gr
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