To Aria Komianou
Beauty means to mourn
and to mourn deeply
-suddenly she tells you
“so and so”
and after this
all things are uttered as neutral
as a precocious morning
or a prearranged noon.
Papers of tears
firelighters
the wings of the mind, flapping
this Need, before anything else
and you are naming the books “reminders of all meanings”
you are telling the story of a youth, in engravings
the implements of passion, certainly.
Now
the birds, scared away
perch in Aria’s Kingdom
while the precious brown
flirts with black
and flowers grow out of stones.
Here, death is melting with desire
love is being carved out of wood
you can win over all profane things
with this art which is cast in peace
on those blessed boards
which are almost rafts
for beyond.
Translated by Marilena Glinou
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