Excavations II
Carry on, dig deeper, you miss a finger, a hand, a rib,
the sword, the green grapes, dig deeper, we get complete
with the old things, the current ones, they can take away
from you, we retain the old ones, good, secret comradeship,
sauntering alone down at the old harbours of the Lecheans,
the Cechreans, of Isthmians
or here at the shores of Samos. During the hot summer noon
Sicyoneans drink iced colas at the cafes of Kiato, and others
fish with their rods at the quay. Silent women carry the water
of immortality in painted pitchers under the poplars and
the lilacs; let alone Mr. Strougas searching for the treasure
of Cemil Bey at Acro Corinth. We’ll light the pyre of the dead,
we’ll light the procession of the naked statues while we hide
among them, and having a key, or a proclamation, or a poem
underarm.
Libros Libertad 