Monday 25 September 2017

September 24 - Farewell Perikles, dancing myth of Molyvos



As a naughty Karagiozis
he danced around customers
his wrinkled face
always in a fat grin

A meatball here, a tasty fish there
juggling with full plates
sometimes a bow, sometimes a greet
never a complaint crossing his lips

Languorous evenings full with traditional sounds
colorful puppets endless gossiping
about the Greek world
with a laugh and a tear

Then his laughing eyes
would light up with pleasure
just like when fingers bowed
the smooth strings of a bouzouki

And when the summer evening progressed
empty bottles starting to make music
feet floated off the floor
father, daughter, father, son

Dearly celebrating Greek life
nights full of swirling people
and he, in the middle of the dance floor
of his restaurant full of flowers

Sometimes waving with his rifle
towards tables full of clients
a sudden shot in the blue air
and gone were the fish-eating wasps

His rich life going towards twilight
in his little old white car
embracing the sunset
to fish in Eftalou

To the gardens or the sea
Georgina always at his side
driving and enjoying
the empty winter evenings

O, Perikles, dancing myth of Molyvos
sleep took your voice
music, dance and life
far beyond the evening red

In heaven you can angle
as long as you want
while we here
will miss you so much

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Smitaki 2017





Saturday 9 September 2017

September 4 – Where is the Summer?



Month of August blessed with Summer
highlight of Greek holidays
this year pestered by foul cold streams
making naked shoulders long for coats

Even as Maria floated to heaven
in the midst of the high season
normal sweating pilgrims
were greeted with cold

The sea as cold as a polar bear’s love
lost to Mediterranean warmth
as if we’ve started all over again
from that jubilant spring

Unusual cool August
more like the end of September
when you are on the doorstep of Autumn
pulling the blankets up the beds

Where is that desirable hot summer
warming hearts and then so quickly
like time here on the island
passing as fast as a rocket

Fat figs in the trees
first signs of Autumn
Summer causing the fall of the leaves
beside the rotting but sweet scented fruit

This Summer disguised as a belated guest
who comfortably seats herself
only to stand up as quickly to pace around
in haste and impatient, as if elsewhere would be better

Boom, the door will slam shut
behind the Summer sneaking off
leaving us to the colourful Autumn
come to prepare us for the Winter

No bad words about the Winter and its soft whispering stoves
but it's like I have not yet stored up enough heat
and haven’t dallied sufficient hours in the blue sea
and still have long languorous evenings to go under the stars

Grapes already disappeared
wasps fattened with their juice
Sardines still in the sea and on the plates
until the last rays of Summer.

Burning hot healing Summer
melting momentarily all sorrows
fraternizing at beaches and in the sea
why such a hurry to deliver us to Autumn?

(with thanks to Mary Staples)

© Smitaki 2017