FIRST ODE
… and the rough waters
of the ocean swiftly swell
and flood and shatter
the Albian deadly rocks
to endless pieces.
The rough Aeolian wind
carried me there
where sunrays of the sweetest freedom
have sustained me,
healed me,
where I admired your temples
and those of the Celts
oh, holy city, what
of the logic you miss?
Which Aphrodite?
The forests of Zakynthos
and her dark mountains
often heard the sound
of Artemis’ silver
heavenly arrows
and still these days
the shepherds will respect
her trees and those fresh springs
where Nereids
wander still.
For the first time my body
kissed the Ionian waves
and for the first time
the Ionian Zephyrs caressed
the breast of Kythereia …
Libros Libertad 