UNANSWERED
Why are you taking me this way? Where does this road go? Tell me.
I can’t see a thing. This isn’t a road. Just stones.
Black beams. Lamp bracket. At least if I had
that cage–not this bird cage but that other one
with the heavy wire netting, with the naked statues. Back then
when they threw the dead bodies down from the roof terrace, I didn’t say anything,
I gathered up those statues–felt sorry for them. Now I know:
the last thing that dies is the body. So speak to me.
Why are you taking me this way? I can’t see a thing. It’s great I can’t see.
The biggest obstacle against thinking to the end is glory.
–Yannis Ritsos (b. 1 May 1909)
Translation by Edmund Keeley
Photo credi: Dark Wet Stone Floor by Luis Rodero-Merino
