City of Light
to John Pappas, sculptor
On this side of the train tracks, beyond the grain fields, at the feet of the high mountain, the beautiful Hellenic city extends among the fields and the gardens. A Hellenic city since the ancient days. Just before autumn, the hill is hit by storms and rains. It looks white on the first winter days as it is covered by snow. The waters freeze. I mentioned that the city is Hellenic. It is strange too. It is adorned with beautiful buildings representing all the epochs of the nation’s history. The buildings are maintained well, only a small repair is needed here and there for their unique and impeccable look. The strange thing about the city is that alive and dead people live together in this city in harmony. Thus, despite the emigration of the people, to the point that the rest of the county is deserted, the city continues to be populated. Once, during my travels, I happily passed by there. How can I describe my joy when I met my father there, whom I hadn’t seen in many years but with Skendempei, countess Nollaig, the philosopher Empedocles, the holy Marquis de Sade, Mozart sitting by his piano, Odysseus Androutsos, Rigas Velistinlis, with his bouzouki and many other familiar people.
Libros Libertad 