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So don’t leave me alone don’t leave me

In dear hell

This earth has low clouds the notes are flying above my umbrella.
The children clad in early century clothes are singing and Franz
Dearest Franz persists drowned in roses
“what can I say now immersed in myself in the train of words catapulted by my pitted mouth and hovering in the gardens that in winter preserve raindrops in their cool hearts.  As for sinning I shall confess knotting my tie and afterwards attend the funeral of my dear soul taking a peep at my nakedness through the keyhole.  I shall be very serious and talk of nothing but our vain love the smooth surface of the wood that protects your childish head when you lower your elbows and whisper in a hurried pronunciation the frayed S the deceptive thunder of your even more mendacious wrath”.
And continuing with the beads that fall bouncing on the floor the icons offered to the historical flight of the indignant saints and don’t belong to ill-fated love affairs that keep on walking and warming the frozen hands moist like flowers yes flowers of the kind that speak of wonderful times.     

Veroniki Dalakoura
Translated from the Greek by Yannis Goumas