When this poetry was published, I wrote:
After years of silence, nobody remembered me. Almost nobody. Some even may have been annoyed that I came back. That the abyss did not swallow me. And I'm trying to survive. I am preparing the poetic collection Walking and Dreaming and writing four books at the same time, each of which fascinates me differently.
Winter 1983
Η ποίηση αυτής της συλλογής είναι λίγο από τα μυθιστορήματα που έγραφα εκείνο τον καιρό. Ή, τα βιβλία έβγαιναν από την ποίηση.
Walking and dreaming
And not having earth to stand
I become a poem
I walk on Amfiaraos st
My house is there
Journeyed from the past
Half ship
Half stone oracle
I walk
On Amfiaraos st
and I lift on my back
my house
Basil and stone geraniums
And my feet in the water
To cross through matter
Secularity a heavy burden
The oracle is dripping
From the cracks in my house.
And I walk as a sublimation
abolishing
the sin
Once suspended in the rain
From azzure and glaucous
Once half-sank
Half-emerged
Like a hibiscus bent
By the weight of sleep
I walk on Amfiaraos st
Sprang like a flower within the dream
And I raise my purple buds
In prayer
Towards the timeless light
In prayer
To the hubris that my death has purified.
Amfiarao, 1981
***
I am a landscape
From the blood of old sacrifice.
Its morning and I walk on Palatino
Rocks and bricks
And a hand that escaped decay
Its morning and I walk on the Capitol
With Caligula erasing
Imaginary roads made out of fresco and stars.
Its morning and I walk in apheresis
In the absence of time
I am crossing through the layers of times
Dead cities and untouched graves
Shiny rocks where aching souls keep silent
I cross through the memory of elements
The one engraved inside me
And I wake the vision of my hands
To touch
Like moon droplets
The passage.
Η ποιητική συλλογή κυκλοφόρησε το 1983