II
I walked from the harbor
to the house so many times!
After church service
one turns and always
something obstructs his breath
the moon or the wind
or a small shrub that stirs.
From the harbor to the house
madam Xanthi died
the ten, eighteen year old
kore vanished
the old house of the crazy woman fell in.
The familiar magical landscape
toward the field
spreads inside me during night.
Acceptance and revolution
always start on my soil.
Libros Libertad 