to liberty

…And human life shall seem
Like a short and happy dream
Ere we wake in the daybeam of the skies.

Percy Bysshe Shelley


I do not regret

I do not regret, complain, or weep,
All passes, like smoke off the white apple trees.
Autumn’s gold has me in its withering grip.
I shall never be young again.

My heart has felt the chill,
It no longer beats as it once did.
The birch woods cotton print
No more tempts me to roam barefoot.

Spirit of wandering, less and less
Do you stir my lips’ flame.
Oh, my lost freshness, storminess
Of eye, passion’s flood time.

Oh life, do my desires
Grow tamer, or was it all a dream?
As though, in spring’s echoing early hours,
I had galloped by on a pink steed.

We are all mortal. Silently
The maples spill the copper of their leaves.
May you be blessed for evermore
That you came— to flourish and to die.



The reflection is
what’s real.
The river
and sky
are doors to take us
to the Eternal.
Down beds of frogs
or beds of bright stars
our love will go off, singing
the morning of the great flight.
The reflection is
what’s real.
Only a heart remains,
only one wind.
Don’t weep!
Near or far,
it’s the same.
Eternal Narcissus,*
Nature’s way.

Federico Garcia Lorca

song with reflection

In the meadow
my heart danced

(a cypress shadow
on the wind)

and a tree unplaited
the dew breeze.
Breeze, silver to the touch!

I said: do you remember?

(The star
the rose
do not concern me.)


Lost language!
without horizons!


In the meadow
my heart danced

(a cypress shadow
on the wind).

Federico Garcia Lorca


                … even the weariest river winds somewhere safe to sea!

I brought my life this far
To this spot that struggles
Always near the sea
Youth upon the rocks, breast
To breast against the wind
Where is a man to go
Who is nothing but a man
Calculating with dews his green
Moments, with water the visions
Of his hearing, with wings his remorses
Ah Life
Of a child who becomes a man
Always near the sea when the sun
Teaches him to breathe whither
A seagull’s shadow is effaced.

I brought my life this far
White measuring ink-black sum
A few trees and a few
Wet pebbles
Light fingers to caress a brow
What brow
Anticipations wept all night and are no more
There is no one
Would that a free footstep be heard
That a rested voice arise
That sterns splash the jetty writing
A name more glaucous in their horizon
A few years a few waves
Sensitive rowing
In the bays surrounding love.

I brought my life this far
Bitter groove in the sand that will be effaced
– Whoever saw two eyes touch his silence
And mingled with their sunshine enclosing a thousand worlds
May he remind other suns of his blood
Nearer the light
There is a smile that fills the flame –
But here in the unknowing landscape that gets lost
In a sea open and pitiless
Success moults
Whirlwinds of feathers
And of moments that were bound to soil
Hard soil beneath impatient
Soles, earth made for vertigo
Or a dead volcano.

I brought my life this far
A stone dedicated to the watery element
Farther than the islands
Lower than the waves
Neighboring the anchors
– When keels pass by passionately cutting through
A new obstacle and conquer it
And hope with all its dolphins dawns
Sun’s profit in the human heart
The nets of doubt draw in
A form of salt
Indifferent white
Hewn with effort
Which turns toward the sea the voids of its eyes
And supports infinity.

Odysseus Elytis