Vassiliki Rapti
Empedocles
To the elements it came from Everything will return. Our bodies to earth, Our blood to water, Heat to fire, Breath to air. —Matthew Arnold, "Empedocles on Etna"
The vagabond
l
e
a
p
t
into
the
terrible
flames
of a Devil's
bloody
stream
beautifying
the lines of
Mount
Etna.
(Transl. from Greek by Andreas Triantafyllou and Vassiliki Rapti)
Poplar Tree
For Lefka who fell asleep Enigma touching passage Opening bloodless lie Expansion excess void If Ever, sometime, somewhere, someplace else, somehow Inevitably you suffer, wandering aimlessly In the ebony-black wind Don't be afraid to whirl like a Dervish Death's vortex—you know—settles the score. Don't demand, don't talk, don't ask, don't waste away Fix your gaze On the pale shroud And sleep Pale poplar tree.
(Transl. from Greek by Angelos Sakkis and Chloe Koutsoumbeli)
Needles
A myriad of rays-needles
meet at the point of the
heart they bathe it with light
they infuse it with oxygen
they fill it with breath
they string it between two extremes
they measure its resistance
they pierce it
they fill it with anger
they knead it with
a dazzling
angelic
embittered
light.