august is over burnt
from rains and
shadows

the grass is low
only for
the blind cricket

the air of
your skin is Paradise
fingers all over
my face

your words
push the blood
out of my heart

towards you

The man who sits at the edge
of the water
shares the bread
(for you and to the birds).
Familiar with the dream far ago.
He can count when
the lime blossoms crumble
(someone passes to some place
and love is the longest point).
Entire.

Then (i look) it is
maestoso.

Some day I will stay at that house
(rather I will be sat) that I dream of
to realize how the air was born. Then,
(now I am sleeping on my wrist)
as never before I will manage without asking
about roads and
I will
pass
on the stretched rope
between
two horizons

the girl
with an umbrella of roses
stops so suddenly
at the nook

the sea and the infinity

she waits
for the morning wind
(to fly off)

Missolonghi
In English, the Greek Kalinihita (?a?????ta means Good Night

I won't be by you,
Kalinihita,
the lines of your palm.
I'm too heavy, my girl,
and you - a light one.
Let you pass smoothly
through all the doors
on the shoulders of everybody
let you step.
Like a sound of a love
romance
to pass by.
I'm heavy, heavy, my girl
and my shadow is white.
And you can see
chromatic
and to croon you can
only to the wind.
Where shall I stay
without disturbing.
Your dream.



In English, the Greek Kalinihita (?a?????ta means Good Night
Missolonghi
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lord_Byron

The girl, who fresh
like a germ among the dark olives,
is waving slightly for hello,
is opening up.
You cannot guess
the color of her delicate garment,
the laughter of the wind touching
her tender skin.

A yellow bee is whirring …

Lending an ear above waters of
your voice
and forgotten
my heart of
an old robber,
I tuck in hollows of my hands –
a drop.

And I am trying
not to shiver.