I, holding a lamp, was going down the stairs; I had
to discover who I was, what I accomplished in the past;
yet, the house was still standing although we had once
pushed the walls down to make room for the one who
crippled men played my fortune in a card game,
at the far end;Jesus of the drunks was passing each
night along the foggy street lamps and I followed
the killer wiping his footprints in the snow, since
by now I knew; the woman, when I tried to hug her
made a light gesture and went into her door
leaving me outside.
Oh Lord, please allow me to be dead and drunk
Only leave the stars which were friendly to me
even in the streets where they were shooting.
Copyright © 2022, Manolis Aligizakis (translator), Tasos Livaditis, Poems — Volume II, Libros Libertad