Leftéris Poúlios
From: The Room Next Door (1998)
Instead of Silence
9
I scatter verbal figures
over the world's roofs.
On the inside of a conch I write
the letter and the spirit.
Beachfront vowels follow me
and oaken voices.
I return lucid to the balconies
and criticise the spring
with the arguments of young buds.
11
Decorous language has nothing
more to say.
Only clumsy phrases fill
the sky of poetry.
Nothing's
remained sacred.
We worship the empty, the something,
the ceaseless.
What are we waiting for all gathered together
over the tired miracle?
Translated by Avi Sharon
Page(s) 41-42
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