Poem by Miltos Sachtouris
TRAIN STATION
It always rains in my sleep
my dream gets full of mud
the landscape is dark
and I wait for the train
the station master collects daisies
that grow along the rails
since no train has arrived
to this station for a long time
and suddenly years have passed
and I sit behind a window
my hair and my beard have grown long
as if I’m very sick
yet I fall asleep again
when the woman with the knife
in her hand slowly nears me
she examines me carefully
and sticks the knife in my right eye.
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