What I Saw in the Warm Rain

The pristine moves me

So much less than it dared to before,

Laying me trembling ‘pon the speckled floor

Of summer, and all it affords.

 

So it lies

The cloud graphite with rain

That little but a few heavy drops

In the salty dust distorts.

 

Thunders and rains

Beckons and calls

That which from the heaven could pour

And within its meaning conform.

 

Immersing it all,

As eternity would, set loose

Free upon the world to call

And within me storms to form.

Un(timeliness)

Time, oh wicked despot,
How you propagate and yet dilute,
The fickle fancies-cum-obsessions
Of a heart forever yearning.

Inflated is the fantasy
Of a mind thus undermined
By untimely fascination
And a pure, profound intent.

Beware of this affection
That through circumstance goes stale,
For a founded reciprocity,
Too, might not prevail.

Be wise, my loves,
For all does dissipate,
As the keepers of desires past
Ferment to demons in untimeliness.

Untitled, Unfinished and Incomplete 

‘Twas a fascination,
An impotent affair,
Concealed anticipation
And unintended care.

Seldom was she seen,
That tree which yearns to burn,
A love of past lives keen
In this one to return.

In a menacing sweetness
You embraced and kissed me once,
Yet a void that hummed its silence
Brought but agonising doubts.

Reserved to an invention,
A world perceived alone,
I hooked this fanciful intention
To tomorrow not with you, but not alone.

Voicing tenderness implies responsibility and to supply no straightforward answer is cruel.

Do not permit romantic limbo, whether giving or receiving.

Look the human in the eye; be frank.

For no amount of technologically-induced ‘coolness’ can dilute emotion that is pure, nor the pain which springs from the unresponsive unrequited affection glowing on your screen.

Bisous,
Sia

A translation of Gallop (Γκάλοπ) by Lena Platonos (Λένα Πλάτωνος)

Dear reader,

I offer here a humble translation of the transcendental closing track of Lena Platonos’ iconic album ‘Gallop‘. I do this to honor the feat of storytelling that many of the pieces on the album represent, as well as the fact she employs imagery which featured in the guided meditation that concluded my very first yoga practice, occurring some eight years ago in Thessaloniki, Greece.

Bisous,
Sia

 

 

Now,
Just as a little air lifted,
Everyone expected these days to be cool.
At least that’s what they all said.

Even the lady at the street pavilion
Made mistakes in her transactions
From the excessive heat.

And on the radio
They prepare the winter
With humor and stability,
Seriousness.

Galloping through
And choosing different answers.

You close your eyes,
Arrange a date,
You close your eyes
And dream of different cities,
Sparsely populated cities in the night
Lacking unnecessary sounds
Whose light emanates from within the people,
From the walls of the houses.

A door opens,
Someone lifts their hand
And their greeting traces the shape of a star,

Mmmm,

Or rather a moon.

You reciprocate.
Slowly many gather,
Then even more,

They all reciprocate
And their greeting traces the shape of a moon.

And as they approach one another
They are united by that same gallop
Of the first rain;
The color of the moon of their own touch.

Yes, and further down there is a couple
That have only a moon
That they cut in two
Biting the half

and again the half.
Until crumbs are left behind,
Until nothingness remains.

But they share even that nothingness
As it appears that nothing doesn’t exist.

Maybe that’s why the light emanates from them so.

Αγάπη και Έρως (Devotion and Fever)

I lie in bed,
Awake,
Awake,
Awake.

You lie there too, asleep.
Breathing calmly, slowly,
In
Out
In.

The minutes run, I write
Emotions misplaced,
Entangled.
No rest.
No rest.
No rest.

Outward vista, αγάπη,
A love to utter its call,
Unconditionally, eternally,
Each day,
Repeating.
Repeating.
Repeating.

Inner inferno, έρως,
The heat of lust
That rips and claws,
Aches and scars
Again
And again
And again.

A look that burns,
Through rapt, deep eyes,
Enflaming me,
That primal pulse,
Of desire,
Of longing,
Of fire.

Αγάπη και Έρως
Devotion and Fever
Waging barbarous war
On themselves,
On me,
On you.

I lie in bed,
Splitting and shuddering
In febrile duality
Awake,
Awake,
Awake.