Παρασκευή, 7 Σεπτεμβρίου 2012

Iron tears


They melted me in the foundry
They poured me in stamps
They hit me on the anvil
They shaped me….
Consequently, irrevocably?
Always there is the oxygen’s flame
Or something like that.

Kostas Bouzas: 1993
Τranslation: G. Matraka

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