Giorgos Seferis: Все стихи поэта

This sun was mine and yours; we shared it.

Who's suffering behind the golden silk, who's dying?

A woman beating her dry breasts cried out; `Cowards,

they've taken my children and torn them to shreds, you've

killed them

gazing at the fire-flies at dusk with a strange look,

lost in blind thought.'

The blood was drying on a hand that a tree made green,

We were happy all that morning

Ï God how happy.

First the stones the leaves and the flowers shone

and then the sun

a huge sun all thorns but so very high in the heavens.

Á Nymph was gathering our cares and hanging them on the trees

a forest of Judas trees.

Cupids and satyrs were singing and playing

Wherever I travel Greece wounds me.

On Pelion among the chestnut trees the Centaur's shirt

slipped through the leaves to fold around my body

as I climbed the slope and the sea came after me

climbing too like mercury in a thermometer till we found the mountain waters.

On Santorini touching islands that were sinking

hearing a pipe play somewhere on the pumice stone

my hand was nailed to the gunwale by an arrow shot suddenly