DICK
Stone crucified by the wind —
the wind, the silence
nothing is heard
only the heartbeat of the stone
and the stone of the heart that is
slowly, heavily, steady shaped
by anger and grief.
A lot of stone
a lot of heart
to build the factories of tomorrow
the big apartment buildings
the red stadiums and the great
cenotaph for the heroes of the Revolution.
We won’t forget the monument for Dick
yes, yes, our little dog Dick
of the Moudros team
which the cops killed
because it loved the exiles.
A monument for Dick
a stony dog
with his wide rump
with two drops of loyalty in his eyes
with his raised upper lip
showing his left tooth
ready to bite
the heal of the night
or the shadow of the cop
or the long and narrow pause of the flashlight
that placed a slab of silence
between our words and hands.
Yes, let us not forget Dick, comrades
our friend Dick
who barked at night by the main Gate
opposite the sea
and fell asleep each daybreak
by the shoeless feet of Freedom
with the golden fly of the Morning Star
on his popped up ear.
Now Dick sleeps in Lemnos
always showing his right tooth.
Perhaps we may hear again Dick barking joyously
during the demonstration day after tomorrow
going back and forth under our flags
with a small sign down with tyranny
hanging off his left tooth
Dick was a good dog
let us not forget of him, comrades, our friend
Dick that was killed on our front lines
since he loved our comrades a lot.
Libros Libertad 