Yiorgos Kazantzis

It’s too late for me to hate you
The wind relieves me
they hunt me, the bees
and you who did not want me.

I sprinkle with a sprig of basil
to stop the evil
they had bound you, witches
but again you have broken me.

The night falls; I go out to find you
like a little moon of two days
closed window shutters
for you to love me- how much I wanted it.

I throw thyme onto the fires
they tyrannize me, the beautiful things
the beautiful things, the murderesses
and you, who forgot me.

If I cry don’t be afraid of me
I felt it even before you were lost
a bitterness in the rosewater
because you rejected my dream.

I will throw it there where you walk
our oath, so you may step on it
and let them give me pain, the bees
and you who did not want me

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Θα ρίχνω εκεί που περπατάς
τον όρκο μας να τον πατάς
κι ας με πονούν οι μέλισσες
κι εσύ που δε με θέλησες

Charts, your eyes, and I travel
in your gaze I search for islands,
sweet and salty they resemble seas,
waves they send and frighten me.

Charts, your eyes, and I turn about
each of your secret harbors I know
roads and frontiers, all yours,
ten telegraphs in your glance.

Thousands of nights you take me on journeys,
like a mattress with a bengal light you wear out my body,
thousands of nights you take me on journeys
in the depths of the Atlantic you search for my body.

Charts, your eyes, and I turn about
each of your secret harbors I know
roads and frontiers, all yours,
ten telegraphs in your glance.

Thousands of nights you take me on journeys,
like a mattress with a bengal light you wear out my body,
thousands of nights you take me on journeys
in the depths of the Atlantic you search for my body.

(translation: Eva Johanos)

Χιλιάδες νύχτες με ταξιδεύεις
σα στρώμα με βεγγαλικά το σώμα μου παιδεύεις,
χιλιάδες νύχτες με ταξιδεύεις
στα βάθη του Ατλαντικού το σώμα μου γυρεύεις.