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Gedicht

Titos Patríkios

VERSES, 2

Verses that howl
verses that rise, as if they’re bayonets
verses that threaten the established order
and in their few feet
make or break the revolution –
useless, false, boastful
because today no verse topples regimes
no verse mobilizes the masses.
(What masses? now, between us –
who thinks of the masses?
at most a personal deliverance, if not recognition)
That’s why I no longer write
in order to offer paper guns
weapons made of babbling, hollow words.
But only to lift up a small corner of the truth
to cast a little light on our counterfeit life.
As much as I can, as long as I endure.

VERSES, 2

Titos  Patríkios

Titos Patríkios

(Griekenland, 1928)

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VERSES, 2

VERSES, 2

Verses that howl
verses that rise, as if they’re bayonets
verses that threaten the established order
and in their few feet
make or break the revolution –
useless, false, boastful
because today no verse topples regimes
no verse mobilizes the masses.
(What masses? now, between us –
who thinks of the masses?
at most a personal deliverance, if not recognition)
That’s why I no longer write
in order to offer paper guns
weapons made of babbling, hollow words.
But only to lift up a small corner of the truth
to cast a little light on our counterfeit life.
As much as I can, as long as I endure.
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