The Sin

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They left, they left – he said. They stayed – he said in a while. They stayed.
They exist.
Gullible days, wasted. And there were a few trees.
The roofs leaned their shoulders more impressively. George,
on top of the ladder, was fixing the plaster festoon
of the neoclassical house. Further down in the harbor
the longshoremen were creating a havoc. They carried
large wooden boxes tied with ropes. Two dogs
walked edge to edge in the street.

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Raven

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Years like wings. What does the motionless raven remember?
What do the dead remember near the roots of trees?
Your hands had the color of the falling apple.
And this voice that always returns in a low tone.

Those who travel focus on the sail and the stars
hear the wind and beyond the wind the other sea
like a closed conch near them, they hear nothing
else, they don’t search among the shadows

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Autumn Comment

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The gist of my story was a black reclining chair—though
where is the house now, where is the fruit bowl with the old
invitations, the napkins that concealed our laughter—only
the lamp is lit in the empty room, like someone who talks
to himself ignorant of the danger or like a woman you never

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Reminder

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The room was in the suburbs, with a few pieces of furniture,
like a Gospel quotation—so everything finished quickly and
Joanna cried and run back to the station, on the other hand it was
a secret that I’d forget as I tried to mention it, then I opened the violin
case—and only, at sometimes, when I grieved I put on my tie

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Afternoon Delights

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MANUAL FOR EUTHANASIA 1979 ΕΓΧΕΙΡΙΔΙΟ ΕΥΘΑΝΑΣΙΑΣ
~So many stars
and I starve to death.
~ Τόσα άστρα
κι εγώ νά λιμοκτονώ
Manolis Aligizakis – Or perhaps to be more accurate it all started by
this clock, a stupid, baldheaded clock, it wasn’t my fault—
every afternoon I simply sat quietly on the sofa and ate my
aunties is young age, but one by one,

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Summer in the City

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In this place the light is beyond hope. This heartless month
doesn’t allow us not to be two. You are not enough.
The monotonous clank, the streetcars turning the corner
the marble-masons cutting stones in high noon.

Above the fence-wall you could see the conventional funerary stele
marble flowers marble ribbons
the bust of a banker
the face of a child shadowed by the wing of an angel.

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Αποκάλυψη

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Κείνες τις μέρες νοιώθαμε πως είμαστε στον δεύτερο
μήνα εγκυμοσύνης κι ο πόνος είχε σταθερή διάσταση
σαν υποτείνουσα μεταξύ σκέψης και συναισθήματος
σαν ένα χαμόγελο με πείσμα κι είμασταν πια
μεγάλοι για να μάθουμε παιγνίδια καινούργια γι αυτό
εμείναμε πιστοί στου ανέμου το πανάρχαιο μαστίγωμα
πάντα μακριά απ’ τα όνειρά μας, αλήθεια, μια ασήμαντη
εξέλιξη.

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Duty

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He stood by the fireplace and after He shifted the logs
He said: ‘nothing you can do for the wilted anemone
at least try to push your empty cart uphill perhaps one day
it may find its way back to the desolate house with you
or without’ and I bent down to pick my defeated ego,
it had all started because of our devout narcissism,

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The Street That Was Not Named “Pasolini Street”

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Wide morning in Rome that widens the consonant l
amid the vendors yelling, the tires of buses
and the statues’ silence.
Ocher shadowed in the eastern facades
of stores and buildings. Doors and doors uphold
the semicircles of shadows at one time. Strange –
he said –

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