When this poetry was published, I wrote:
These poems were written during the difficult years of the junta, living in fear as if we were inside one of Kafka's novels with the nightmarish guilt of silence. Through strange associations, that fear and the strange guilt awakened the old terror that I experienced as a child during the Nazi occupation, awakening the guilt of innocence. The poems in this collection are a cry of complaint about those perilous times.
An act of life
This time of bleeding
An act of life
This last Nay
Songs are not enough
To declare
Our face
They are not enough
To denounce our times
Mother's song
A saddle bag full of moon for your freedom
A springtime for love
Who writes on a moonlight
upon naked bones
our history!
A mother searching for torn
crosses
A little further a little
in a crying distance
in a springtime distance
the mass execution
Sleep my dear
sleep my angel
A little further a little
σ’ ένα τοπίο από φεγγάρι ολόγιομο
the mass grave
σ’ ένα τοπίο αδελφοκτόνο
Sleep my star
Sleep my precious
Don't step there
Your first steps should not be taken
over there
It is the earth that covers
death in bloom
It is the execution by distance
of guilt
Where can you stand
Where can you take your first steps where?
All around the traps are set
Sleep my dear
sleep my angel!
***
The blindfolded adolescent
with a well of bloodied spring on his temple
with a No in his last sun
Blood that flows under the flag
of the resistance
This poetry was published in 1975 and contains poems written during the years of dictatorship