Katerina Anghelaki Rooke – Selected Poems

VI

How many times it dawned in Greece

before I was born

after my death

how many times the rosy color

and the old woman with the vegetables

in the metro to the sea at Phaliro.

How many times Brallos

kept on being white

in the winter morning

stone different from other stone

first surprise, as I return

from abroad thirsty and

I haven’t discovered the language

of my own things.

How many times

it was dawning in Greece

with the few, the small

the meagre

the bitter almond tree and the amaranthus

with all the wrong things I learned

with everything I imprudently loved.

Dawn

I live here and I long

for this same landscape

as if I miss it

with each glance

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