we are left to see using two eyes
and our hands are enclosed in our pockets
it is cold, indeed.
every breath evaporates the common thought:
it is cold and dark. We have to lit and switch.
We hold on to the hope of the coming fire.
We spread the news. It shall soon be noon
and the cattle on the fire will steam the eye.
And the fire will heat the hand
and the hand will hold on to the one besides us.
And we will be then so happy.

we are let to believe that our lives are not to be governed
by us. Sun and clouds interfere with our needs.
We have to compete with the wind
and we have to fight one another.
Yet it is useless to struggle against The reality. It is done.

That human creation is done.

We can only abide by the rules.
We are left to struggle with the wind
which spreads the seeds for the following spring.
After all, we do need an enemy, said Cavafy.


these are the colors of now
pale and dark browns and blues
some greens and grays
but mostly brown.
these are the colors of our mood
in search of the scarce light green


rising and descending

everyday, as a vivid clock


colors everywhere

Στεκόταν σ' ένα λόφο όχι πιο μεγάλο από σπίτι, αλλά το λιβάδι χαμηλά κι η αστραφτερή λουρίδα του ποταμού φαινόντουσαν τόσο μικρά, σαν ο λόφος να είχε γίνει βουνό και ορθωνόταν πάνω από ένα φύλλο και μια σταγόνα νερό. Τα δέντρα γύρω από το αγροτόσπιτο έγιναν πυροτεχνήματα. Κι οι βουνοκορφές Τζάρβις έμοιαζαν λοφάκια από χώμα και σκιές από πέτρες, μες στην ήρεμη μοναδική απεραντοσύνη που απλωνόταν ως πέρα μακριά. Από τον κοντινότερο ίσκιο το αγόρι κοίταξε κάτω το ποτάμι που εξαφανιζόταν, το σιτάρι που ο αέρας το έγερνε στο χώμα, τα εκατό δέντρα του σπιτιού που μίκρυναν κι ενώθηκαν όλα μαζί σ' ένα μίσχο και τις τέσσερις γωνίες του κίτρινου λιβαδιού να σμίγουν σ' ένα τετράγωνο που θα μπορούσε να το σκεπάσει με το χέρι του. Είδε την πολύχρωμη κομητεία να ζαρώνει σαν φόρεμα που μπαίνει στη μπουγάδα. Τότε ένας καινούριος αέρας σηκώθηκε από την τελευταία σταγόνα του ποταμού, φούσκωσε το λιβάδι του λόφου στο πραγματικό του μέγεθος, το σιτάρι ορθώθηκε όπως και πριν κι ο μίσχος που έκρυβε το σπίτι χωρίστηκε σε εκατό δέντρα. Συνέβησαν όλα σε μισό δευτερόλεπτο.

Τα κοράκια πέταξαν και πάλι ξαφνικά απ' τα ψηλότερα κλαδιά σαν σύννεφο σε σχήμα κώνου. Δεν είχε τέλος η μαύρη τριγωνική πτήση των πουλιών κατά τον ήλιο. Από το λόφο προς τον ήλιο, η φτερωτή γέφυρα ανέβαινε σιωπηλά. Και τότε φύσηξε πάλι ο αέρας, αυτή τη φορά απ' την απέραντη θάλασσα και βίτσισε τη γέφυρα. Σαν καταρράκτης από πέρδικες γκρεμίστηκαν φυσημένα τα κοράκια.

Όλ' αυτά συνέβησαν σε μισό δευτερόλεπτο.

Dylan Thomas, A Prospect to the Sea (1955)
Προοπτική της θάλασσας, μτφ. Μ. Σταυρινού, Πλέθρον

ps. no matter how foggy early mornings might be, sun reappears to set the colors free
and then, at night, misty landscapes again, mysterious and magical ones
tonight, the moon was greatly bright and large. The shy stars hid behind this light.
It felt kind of strange, as if the fields had melted into clouds and the sun had risen in blank void
It smelt humid and dark.


water and trees on red land

there are parts of life
where time seems still
not stopped
slightly moving as one breaths at last
so much rhythm
our senses are too harsh to sense
our consciousness is too narrow to trust
it is there then
hardly now here

there is an eternal reality inside us all
yet this hollow man suppresses his feet
towards the road to spend time waiting
for something new

pasts have not yet been lived
they didn't last
no matter how much they were longed for
a narrow path we only saw and took
which we cannot show or tell
it was just ours
like hours of steep walking
behind the waterfall


full circles
lines drawn by hand
hands touching
fairies coming back to the lakes
mountain lines
leaves the fragile colorful blossoms
forest creatures in roots
snow falls
sweet voice

let's dance!

then, it was night.
red cheeks beneath the dark sparkling of hope. Goodnight
let's whisper

this song



there is always distance to be covered
between yourself and the other.
somewhere there are points
from where relationships may evolve and survive.
in the past, the distances that farmers could cover on one day
drew the place on map
for the new village.
we are now set on the map
and in search for the right distances between us
and between ourselves and nature.
this effort is to be endless.
still, let us imagine a fresh start, a new beginning for our settling.
we are not who we are
we are not where we are supposed to be
we are
we love.


moving fast

simplifying, like the way one paints;
like trusting the means and the means
shall indeed bring things closer to one's heart.

the curious mind

a long way
results in various observations

i randomly combine the images which my mind uses
to come to the same conclusion
always the same one, but enriched

hello again!