Μου λένε
πως πετάω στα σύννεφα,
μα δεν έχουν ιδέα
πώς πετάνε τα φύλλα
μεσημέρι στον ύπνο
πώς πετάνε μεσάνυχτα
τα βήματα
ενός ερωτευμένου
πώς πετάνε οι φόβοι
πάνω στα άγρια δεντρολίβανα
πώς πετάει το αύριο
στην θάλασσα
και φεύγει.
Λάθος.
Δεν πετάω στα σύννεφα.
Πατάω στα σύννεφα.
Response
They tell me
I fly in the clouds
They have no idea
How leaves fly
In our afternoon sleep
How a lover’s footsteps
Fly swiftly at midnight
How fears fly
Over the wild rosemary
How tomorrow flies
Over the sea
To vanish.
Wrong.
I don’t fly in the clouds.
I stand on the clouds.
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