ALEXIS
Alexis was quiet
like one who always completes his task.
When he lay down he fell asleep at once
like one who has completed his task.
Two thick soiled shoes
stayed out of the blanket
then big plane trees and eucalyptuses
grew in his toenails.
When we called his name
it was as if we said tomorrow will be sunny.
How quiet you were, Alexis
they woke you up in the night
you didn’t have time to tie your bag
didn’t have time to tie the laces of your boots. We noticed
you passed the opening of the tent,
one of your laces dragged on the soil. We feared
that you may trip, comrade. You sensed it
and smiled. We smiled too.
Ah, yes, it wasn’t the fear that you could trip
you never tripped in your life;
you passed the tent opening
and it became silence with many clouds.
Your comb and a piece of bread left
on top of your wooden bed and
that untied bootlace was still dragging
as sorrow drags in our souls. We weren’t afraid.
They took you, comrade, to military court
and from there for execution
so that from there you could return
to all the hearts, to the whole of life,
to all the eyes, to all the trees, comrade.
For this you feel so saddened
so certain
so joyous —
a star flickers in your eyes
this red star that will never forget of us.
Today you became more of a comrade, comrade.
Take along our two last cigarettes
we don’t have any left, only our hearts, comrade
take our two cigarettes
one for you and one for Hades:
light them together, with one match beside the great wall
where you will talk like two true men
about yesterday’s parades
about the future parades
about the duties of the socialists
about the universal freedom
you will talk peacefully
you and Hades
like two old men from Nafplion
until you finish your cigarette
until you hear the salvo
stopping your conversation
and your heart half way.
You know it, nothing can be lost
comrades will carry on with your duty and your work
rest assured
rest assured
go in peace and be joyous.
And we’re joyous too, comrade, look at us:
we aren’t crying.
No, comrade are crying, we don’t hide it
because we are socialists and we love you, comrade
and we’ll miss you from our struggle, we’ll miss you.
Despite of how you still exist close to us, we’ll miss you;
we’ll miss your eyes, like two light-blue windows
opened at the end of the dark hallway
we’ll miss your smile which
resembles a flag on the neighbourhood balcony
and your hands, strong and timid
which had a hasty and silent movement
as if gluing the Revolution poster on a wall at midnight.
We feel embittered comrade, we don’t hide it
and the Party feels embittered, as it looks austere and
speechless
and today the Party is more austere, so it won’t cry,
comrade
as it tidies the spotless party identification papers
on the list of heroes of the Populace Struggle.
Today you became a comrade, comrade
we all became comrades, comrade.
Good bye comrade. Rest in peace
having your boots on, with the untied lace
peaceful like one who has completed his task
peaceful, don’t be afraid, comrade
we’ll complete our task too.
Hellenic Canadian Literature 