Triandafillos Pittas: The Epigraph

night garden

In the garden of night flowers

he hid behind the dark statues

In the cistern with the bats

he became a miner of the night

…he was searching for new wine

for a delirium they had never heard of…

Nothing

Still nothing

Always nothing

Only a rock looming tall

only an epigraph in chalk:

‘Bare feet crush him,

dusty sandals trample him,

trample him…’


The Epigraph

Triandafillos Pittas

Translation © R J Dent (2009)

www.rjdent.com

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