Cicadas, cypresses and men
There where even the soul is asweat
And removes its las shirt
Paving the way for those others waiting,
As if magnetized, to flare up, to scintillate
With wind and water and aromas,
As if spellbound by bodies departed and
Warmed by eyes and days now gone
The wander in the night,
From midnight to dawn, lest
The breath drown in the water's vapour
And the soul, faint-like, lean over
A cistern to look for itself
In water that is not,
And in lieu of a reflection see
Cicadas, cypresses and men
Translation: Yannis Goumas