Andreas Embirikos

The initial form woman took was the braided throats of two dinosaurs.
Later, time changed and woman changed too.
She became smaller, more lithe, more in keeping with the two-masted (in some countries three-masted)
ships that float on the misfortune of making a living.
...

They took away her toys and lover. Well then she bowed her head and almost died. But the thirteen destinies like
her fourteen years smote the fleeing calamities. No one spoke. No one ran to protect her against the overseas
sharks which had already cast an evil shadow over her like a fly staring with malice on a diamond or a land
enchanted. And so the story was heartlessly forgotten as always happens when a forest ranger forgets his
...

Natural inclination
The dove of our heartbeat spreads it around
The tears of rivers flow always
They are tears of unconcealable happiness
...

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Your body white and your funnels yellow
Tired of the anchorages' filthy waters
You who have loved the faraway sporades
...

Frenzied but firm
The colt of day charges
Into the mouth of spring and the birds chatter
With the clear sky in their voices
...

O the breasts of youth
O the pallid waters of the fig-eaters
The cobblestones echo with the steps of morning people
Thicket of strength with your scarlet trees
...

They took away her toys and lover. Well then she bowed her head and almost died. But the thirteen destinies like
her fourteen years smote the fleeing calamities. No one spoke. No one ran to protect her against the overseas
sharks which had already cast an evil shadow over her like a fly staring with malice on a diamond or a land
enchanted. And so the story was heartlessly forgotten as always happens when a forest ranger forgets his
thunderbolt in the woods.
...

It sometimes happens that one kisses
The hand of a morning reflection
In the silence of a landscape
Standing motionless with sealed mouth
Before the city awakens with a thousand fountains
And with the unfettered bathing voices
Suddenly released in the sudden sun
By the street-cleaners of the morning.

And so our pains have not gone for nothing
They lift their veils and reveal
Their mighty arms swelling
To reach into the heart of the city
Like the Magi of the East, and to raise
The fingers of the sleepers one by one
Toward the row of boats that sail the streets
Laden with perfumes
With treasures and provisions
From the remote lands, like the glance
Of a woman daydreaming.
...

For Yves Tanguy

Natural inclination
The dove of our heartbeat spreads it around
The tears of rivers flow always
They are tears of unconcealable happiness
They are lakes where snow-white storks lived long ago
No south-westerly settles in the sugar-canes
And even if at a gunshot the clouds lift
And rise into thinner layers
Where the corvettes spread the sails
Down on the earth a shadow searches for its lost body
The weather in the valley which stole it from her
Thickens the mists that hide it
The lake's treasures are restless, their fur rises
Seaweed and elemental matter stir in the depths
A jellyfish weeps for yesterday's transparency
Which will return with the first fishing-light
Before winter sets in
Before anyone thinks of lighting the beacon
Under which a blonde woman considers her future
The lighthouse-keeper bends to her lips and kisses them
As mariners kiss their symplegades.
...

Frenzied but firm
The colt of day charges
Into the mouth of spring and the birds chatter
With the clear sky in their voices
Like pipes echoing in the flora
Of a handful of angels in rapture
Like anemones that issue
From the pearls of pleasure.
...

For Yiorgos Gounaropoulos

O the breasts of youth
O the pallid waters of the fig-eaters
The cobblestones echo with the steps of morning people
Thicket of strength with your scarlet trees
Youth senses your significance
And springs up already at your edges
Feathery tresses frisk between the breasts of young girls
Who walk half-naked through your narrow streets
Their curls more lovely than those of Absalom
Amber drips between the locks
And the dark-haired ones hold ebony leaves
Ferrets sniff at their steps
The forest responds
The forest is a swarm of ants with lance-bearing legions
Here even the skylarks are stripping off their shadows
The railways cannot be heard
The day sighs
One of the her young daughters is playing with her breasts
No slap will do any good
A deer passes by holding in its mouth
The three cherries it found between the breasts of youth
The evening here is warm
The trees wrap themselves in their quietude
Now and then rocks of silence fall slowly into the clearing
Like light before it turns to day.
...

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Your body white and your funnels yellow
Tired of the anchorages' filthy waters
You who have loved the faraway sporades
You who have raised the highest rebel banners
You who sail boldly into the most dangerous waters
Hail, who have let yourself be ravished by the sirens
Hail, who have never feared the clashing rocks.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Over the radiance of the sea with gulls
And I am in your cabin as you are in my heart.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
The breezes recognize us and unloose their hair
They run towards us and their folds are fluttering
Some of pure white and others deepest purple
Folds of heartbeats folds of joy
Of the betrothed and the newly married.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Clamor before you here, whales in your wake
From deep inside you children draw beatitude
And from your face, affinity with you
And you resemble those you and I know
Because we know what whale means
And how it is that fishermen hunt fish.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
They take to flight who sneer at you in secret
Who sell your nets and feed themselves on fat
While you traverse the prairies of the ocean
And sail into harbors decked in plumes
And jewelry from the lovely mermaid
Who bears your kisses still upon her breast.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Your smoke-trail is a strand of destiny
Uncoiling in the ether and ascending
Like the black locks of a voluptuous heavenly virgin
Or like the lyric cry of the muezzin
When your prow flashes on the waves
As the word of Allah flashes on the Prophet's lips
And in his hand his bright unerring sword.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Along the tracks of deeply folded furrows
Which glitter in your wake like tracks of triumphs
Channels of defloration footprints of pleasure panting
In the bright light of burning noon or underneath the stars
When your turbines turn faster and you scatter
Foam to the left and foam to the right upon the shivering waters.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
It seems to me our journeys run together
I think that we resemble one another
Our circles are a part of all creation
Forbears of generation still emerging
We sail we travel forward without guilt
Forges and mills and factories are we
Great plains and oceans and assemblies
Where young men come together with their maidens
And then inscribe upon the sky the words
Armala Porana and Velma.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Apple trees blossom always in our hearts
With their sweet juices and their shade
To which the young girls come at noon
So they can taste love with us
And afterwards so they can see the harbors
With the tall belfries and the towers
Where landlocked maidens climb
To dry their hair.

O ocean liner you sing and sail
Our lyres of boundless joy ring out
With the wind's whistling fore and aft
With birds upon the wires of the masts
With echoes of remembrance like binoculars
Which I hold up before my eyes and see
Islands and oceans approaching
Dolphins and quails retreating
Hunters are we of the delight of dreams
The destination that runs on but never rests
As dawns never rest
And shivers never rest
And as waves never rest
And as the wakes of ships never rest
Nor our songs for the women we love.
...

The initial form woman took was the braided throats of two dinosaurs.
Later, time changed and woman changed too.
She became smaller, more lithe, more in keeping with the two-masted (in some countries three-masted)
ships that float on the misfortune of making a living.
She herself floats on the scales of a cylinder-bearing dove of immense weight.
Epochs change and the woman of our epoch resembles the gap in a filament.
...