The sunset faded in the bedroom mirror.The high school students have long since returned home.The sky is deep, sad, silentAnd through the glass its milky shadow.
Bitter are the fishermen’s houses,Like back then when we were little and mother left all alone,And the ship’s whistle booms among the cabinsThere in the empty spaces where the brown suitcases used to be.
The servant lights the dining room lampAnd the distant faces emerge from the shadow,Just as the hunter empties his bag onto the blue tableclothAnd yellow birds fall with closed wings.
Translated from Greek by Pilo Zyba
