The Shadows of Birds: 55

Yannis Ritsos

55.
They had left years before
and returned afterwards
as strangers
without luggage
without bandages
Saturday evening in the square
soldiers high school kids
small girls
lovers and the man
with undone laces
stumbling over invisible stones
the train grows late
the dead waited around
tossed their cigarettes on the street
the mud puddles
were all shining
from a single moon.

Agrinion—May 30, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 368]

The Shadows of Birds: 54

Yannis Ritsos

54.
Water and coal
song and stone
the bird and its cage
it and its shadow
tame
in love
everything falls
for the unattainable—
O deprivation O negation
antistrophe acceptance
affirmative.

Kalamos—May 26, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 367]

The Shadows of Birds: 52-53

Yannis Ritsos

52.
On the beach
torn nets
urchins and herring bones
yellow gourds
an oar
yourself and the sea
and overhead a seagull—
on his shoulders we place
the happened-upon words
and Euphranor's chisel.

note: Euphranor of Corinth was a 4th-century BC Athenian sculptor and painter


53.
Calls of birds
Calls of swimmers
both blue green
daisies on the hill
undergarments on rocks
and those that blend into the off-white
calm inconspicuous
until night comes
then from your window
undefended
you listen
discretely
to the discourse of stars.

Kalamos—May 25, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 366-367]

The Shadows of Birds: 51

Yannis Ritsos

51.
A pot of geraniums
at the gas station
a young man
with black hair
and muscular arms—
O what nurtured gentleness
what promised dreams
that pass by and depart
immovable within us.

Kalamos—May 20, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 366]

The Shadows of Birds: 50

Yannis Ritsos

50.
The day was filled with cicadas
an old water diviner
carried a basket
of fresh white eggs
he wasn't selling them
he took them to his son
on the hill
where the woodcutters
fell large trees
near the river
all night
the homeless birds called out
the women who listened to them
found their beds filled with
large pinecones
and daisies.

Kalamos—May 19, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 365-366]

The Shadows of Birds: 47-49

Yannis Ritsos

47.
Outside the wooden huts
a pack of dogs
tearing apart the dolls
of dead children—
meaning is evasive
in the clamor of the day
in the clean undergarments
hung out to dry on the rooftops
while Nikias
waves a white towel
from a window
and is lost inside me.

Athens—May 18, 1980

48.
The quicksilver of the moon
went down slowly
a violin case
left by musicians
remained on the chair
two sailors stayed late
behind the statues
where the lights of passing trains
transfixed them.


49.
Everything was done
without arbitrators
their hats
hung in a line
in the corridor—
outside
the sun was shining
a gas station attendant talked
with a girl—
these and those
concealed the most essential
but I searched for it.

Kalamos—May 18, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 364-365]

The Shadows of Birds: 44-46

Yannis Ritsos

44.
The wing on the right
red
the other on the left
white
Saturday mid-afternoon
springtime leaves
solitude
the locked-up mirrors.

Athens—May 17, 1980


45.
The cup of coffee
the teaspoon on the plate
three cigarettes
he tapped the table with his fingernail
tap tap and then another
tap—
will the drowned man
ever answer
from the garden well?
unless he's the one
who's tapping the table
with his one fingernail?
tap.

Athens—May 17, 1980


46.
Scorpions on the floor
tiny wheels
hairpins
drips of wax
the house smells
of feather down and perfume
the women
stand in front of the mirrors
using the combs of
the murdered.

Athens—May 17, 1980

from The Shadows of Birds (1980) [Collected Poems: IDelta ---pg 362-363]