Voic­es were sanc­ti­fied in the mud,
acces­si­ble to chis­el from with­in you
their need for expression.

Like the val­ue of assim­i­lat­ing the crying
of the one harsh­ly defeat­ed by indifference,
the one gam­bling away his tal­ents in a game of dice
as the only revenge
for the nar­row mar­gin left to make an escape
from himself.

You part with the cocoon in pain
con­sent­ing sto­ical­ly to the vise of the days
study­ing the breadth and width of human dignity.

Under the reign of name­less things.

 

Trans­lat­ed from Greek by Kostan­ti­nos Matsoukas

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