POEM BY KATERINA GOGOU
25th of MARCH
One day I’ll open the door
to go out to the streets
just like yesterday
I won’t think but
a piece of my father
a piece of the sea
things they left to me
and the city. This city that they’ve turned rotten
and our friends who vanished
one day I’ll open the door
straight to the fire
and I’ll enter like yesterday
crying out fascists
putting up roadblocks
and throwing stones
holding a red banner
gleaming high up in the sunshine.
I’ll open the door
and this, not because I’m afraid,
but, I mean to say I had no time
and that you also have to learn
not to go down the streets
without weapons like I did
I had no time to grab them
because you’ll get lost like I did
just like that vaguely
shuttered into pieces
of sea, years of childhood
and red banners.
One day I’ll open the door
and vanish
with the dream of revolution
in the wholesome loneliness
of the conflagrated streets
in the endless loneliness
of roadblocks made of carton paper
with the epithet — don’t believe in them —
Provocateur
Libros Libertad 