Poem by Odysseus Elytis
EROS AND PSYCHE
The life of others strikes me like
a wild black sea. Whatever you believe in the night
God changes. Softly the houses go
some reach down to the quay with their lights on
the soul of the dead (as they say) goes
ah, what can you be that they call you soul
that neither the wind in its passing gave you
matter, nor ever took any feather from you
what balsam or what poison you pour so that
in ancient times the courteous Diotima
singing inwardly was able to alter
man’s mind and the flow of Swabia’s waters*
that those in love can be both here and there
of two stars and one single destiny
the earth seems to be unsuspecting
thought it’s not. Satiate with diamonds and coal
it still knows to speak from where truth comes
with subterranean drums or springs of great clarity
it comes to confirm for you. Which? What?
The only thing you believe in and God doesn’t change
is something that nevertheless exists
undeciphered within the Futile and the Nothing.
*Because from being Zeus’ child
and fighting in the claws of Harpy
he reverently signed as: Scardanelli.
Hellenic Canadian Literature 