RITSOS WE REMEMBER

Born for exile
far from the mountains
for dreaming of the Aegean
of another icicle mirror
the colonels shut the door
with their firearm petronel
held to his subterranean night's soul
Yannis picks up a stone
by the Greek fountains
for a metaphor's revolution
by four horsemen's passing by
the hunger of the Athenians
after a marathon's passing
in a torturing bone
there is no surprise
being put on trial to atone
like offended Socrates
no bend of the knees for him
or hymn on a hymenopteran of flies
or crocodile smile of lies
from his countrymen
nor sneak peeks from any jury
with bloody wounds and injury
from ignorant salons on a poet
who was wise in a dispersion
of his itinerant words
sung from the light and earth
of turning the other cheek
toward the red sunset sky
in sickles of metamorphosis
desperate for a brother
or sister to seize in the ruddy winds,
around you the labors of Hercules
in a killing field of birds
hearing the river Styx
dying as a bard you rise
among hard petrous -like stone
as a Phoenix with living words
among your shimmering shade
and avant- garde shadows
of interweaving bones.