Last night I took a picture of my mother
Standing next to the statue of Grigoris Afxentiou.
‘Stand there so I can take a picture of you, too’, she whispered
I never stand next to statues to be photographed
Yet for some reason, I obeyed without refusing,
Intuitively I leaned my head tenderly on the statue; hugged it.
I wish I had died in an important world war, at least
but I was shot in action at an insignificant skirmish
of a small and insignificant country,
as I doubt they will ever erect a monument
to our war dead,
and even if accomplished, it cannot be compared, of course,
with similar monuments of the larger states,
with similar monuments of the larger wars,