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The old jetty came into sight
a stick in the eye of the sea

Gulls in the fog on the high sea
oil lanterns on the shore
on the rocks dead pilots will gather compasses
fragments of rudder, shattered instruments
-smell of burnt weed

I divine my face
it will soon break free from the deep
and rise full of sea-weed, gold froth
seeking you with torn lips
words turned into coral piercing the cheeks
skin peeling off the forehead
but you will read it right in the morning light
the years show clearly, the meanings
the wounds from the Harpies
red buoys glassy waves forced into submission
the ocean a hint of blessing
the body knows how to survive the storms
and be revived in nature
it wants back the dreams
all that was denied by difficult times

I divine my face
it rises full of stars of the deep
to seal yours

(Translated by Ioanna Tachmintzis, Greek Letters, a journal of Modern Greek literature in translation, 16, 2003-4)