YANNIS RITSOS
Minimal Harvest
The morning glows with healing light, barrel-chested plane
trees.
The sea glitters carelessly into the distance, complete in
itself.
But the others - how will they survive on such a paltry
allotment?
They who once in a dream saw mass marches, banners, chanting
crowds,
who after so many years of preparation now feel themselves
who ll y unprepared? They look across at the hillside, dark
with pines.
With great diligence and keen attention they amass fleeting
impressions - hoping to make their own claim on the present.
A young girl comes up the hill carrying a basket of
mulberries.
Leave it at that: the hill , the young girl, a basket of
mulberries.
Karlollasi, Jllly
11 , 1987
Another Summer
These days of bright sunshine pull the plug on sorrow.
The houses scattered on the green hill gleam with whitewash.
And look - a roan horse grazin g in the field. Out of summers
past rises
a forgotten memory. Yes, the girl in the cornfield was real,
and that boy in the go ld-dust of afternoon, waving
a red beach towel at a passing boat.
YOII
were real, too,
with your faith in music and nothing to your name
but what you gave away, and what you still might give.
Karlollasi, Jllly
25, 1987
Translated from the Greek by Martin McKinsey
