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.In the Time of the Greeks (Narrative and Dramat

12/2/2008 5:05:30 PM
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Peter Stavropoulos (Best Love Poems)
(6th May 1958 / Melbourne, Australia)
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.In the Time of the Greeks (Narrative and Dramatic Poem)
 
  'It is a paradox
That these fields should be covered in flowers and it be spring.
What an irony
That I'm not dead.
A pleasing irony, yes, a pleasing irony.'

With this he laughed and the fields echoed with his laughter.

Two days earlier
This had been the seen of a bitter battle
Between the warring states of
Athens and Sparta.

A battle that had raged for many hours
When finally it moved on.

On the first day after battle the countryside was wild with cries,
Now only his lone laughter heralded day two.

These fields lay close to the city of Hermos,
In the Peloponnesus,
A city that had been able to remain neutral in the war.

Luckily the battle had avoided the city,
And on this day life was returning to normal.

A girl from this city,
Ethene by name,
Decided, as the day was fine,
To spend some time in these fields.
A rich assortment of flowers was to be found where the man lay dying,
And unknowingly she went there.

Her first sight of him was devastating
As his flesh turned to meet her.

He too was shocked.

She stood motionless as she tried to understand the sight she beheld.

'Quiet, do not be scared
I am beyond harming you
And beyond care.'

'I do not understand.
What is this?
Do you speak? '

'I speak to comfort you
Although there is little comfort here.'

'Are you human?
Do you breathe? '

'I breathe, my girl.
As do you.'

'Oh God!
This cannot be true.
Poor man, poor, poor man. How can I help you? '

'God cannot help me, neither you,
Although you both may try,
I do not wish it.'

With this she started to cry.

'Do not cry
Cannot you see that I am content?
Come sit near me awhile.'

'I can't bear it
And shan't.'

Terrified and confused
She ran off,
Leaving him there alone
Although not as she had found him.

The rest of the day and night
Her thoughts were with him
And her secretive silence was, to her,
Another surprise.

Next day she found him still alive.

'Yes, my girl,
I still live.
And how are you? '

'I wish to help you,
And if you must die
I do not know how.'

'As I told you yesterday,
Sit with me.
This day is equally as fine.'

'The day is fine
But how can you care for it? '

'I care for it
Because I am free
And without care.
The day breathes for me
And speaks.'

'I see you are mad
And I am mad to listen to you.
I will go to get help
Perhaps it is not too late.'

'Yes I am made
But do not go
I have very little time left
And can you not see I am beyond help? '

She stood silent
At the undeniable truth
Of this statement
And after a while sat near him.

'What is your name? '

'I am Ethene, daughter of Thermistocles,
From the city of Hermos.'

'And you age? '

'Eighteen this summer.'

'I am Aristophes, son of Domocles,
From the mighty city of Athens.
Dead at twenty six.'

'Cannot I do something for you?
Perhaps a drink? '

'Yes, perhaps a drink.'

She handed him her water container
But he,
Unable to help himself,
Was helped by her.

'I am very pleased to have met you, Ethene.'

She did not know how to answer this.

'Cannot I do something for you? '

'Sir, do not joke,
Please.'

'I do not joke
And I would not joke with you.'

For the first time in days he fought the desire to live.

'Tell me a little about yourself, Ethene.'

'There is nothing much to tell
And nothing of worth to tell now.'

'Am I not the best judge
Of what is worthy now?
Shall we talk of politics
Or war or practicalities? '

'I am a simple farm girl
Born near Hermos, on my parents farm.
I have been raised in obedience to the
Teachings of the Gods and spend my days
With my family in common love.
Nature is my play fellow but she gives me no
Friendship now.'

'Why the misery?
Do not let my circumstances sadden you.
Have I not told you it is as I wish
And I will not have you saddened.'

'Yes I have heard
But I cannot understand this wish.
Is life not better than death?
Even life as a cripple? '

'It is not death I seek
Nor life that I scorn
As with all men
Happiness is my one wish.'

'Cannot you find happiness in life? '

'It has failed me.
Or I failed it?
No matter, life will soon not be a question.'

'I am so sorry! '

'I do not wish to change your sorrow.
Sit beside me still
Your beauty leaves room for no other pain.'

They sat there quietly for a while,
A strange scene.

'You give a strange flattery.'

'You deserve better.'

'What manner of man
Is it
That I speak to? '

'A normal man? '

'No, no normal man.'

'A soldier of Athens
Downed in battle.'

'Yes, and more.'

'A soldier of Athens
Downed in battle
Sharing his final hours
With a beautiful maiden.'

'Yes, and more still, I'm sure.'

'Yes more
As every man is more than meets the eye.'

'You speak as a philosopher.'

'I am
As is every soldier.'

'You speak proudly
Of that.'

'I do
As do all philosophers.'

'You jest again
This time in riddles.'

'I am sorry.
You are my guest.'

'Your guest? ! '

'You are welcome here.'

'Then please
Tell me something of yourself,
I would like to know.
And if there is someone
You would like a message sent to
Then I can help you.'

'The people I care about
Will know of my fate
By my absence.
Thank you for your offer.'

'Will you not tell me
How you came to be here? '

'I am a volunteer
In the Athenian army
And a proud fighter
Who has met his fate.'

'All men's fate is this
Why do you make more of it
And less of it
In this manner? '

'Because for me
It has arrived welcomed
And not too soon.'

'You do not strike me
As a melancholic.'

'And yet I am.'

'Are you? '

'Do not I welcome death? '

'Perhaps you are resigned to your fate.
Or rather death than life as a cripple.'

'I rather death than any life.
There I have said it plainly.
And to whom have I said it?
A girl so full of life and unmarked
By tragedy as I have ever seen.
And when do I say it?
In my last hours
Prior to inflicting upon her, my death.
I am beyond contempt
Leave me now.'

'Do you think I have not felt
The pain of tragedy? '

'I hope not,
I think not yet.'

'And do you think
Only you have? '

'Not only I
But I yes.'

'Shall I go then and leave
Unmarked?

'Yes go.'

'And if I go
Will you think of me
As you have thought? '

'I will not blame you.'

'Would you leave
A dying man? '

'No.
But you are not I.'

'I know
You have felt tragedy.'

'Do not mock me.'

'I am sorry if I sounded
Cruel.'

'It is forgotten
Now please leave.'

'Now you want me to leave.
It seems only you
Can feel for others.
I will not go! '

'Do not be spiteful,
Or rebellious,
Go.
I will not think the less of you
Because of it.'

'That is generous of you.'

'Not generous.'

'I will stay and comfort you
Until the end.
And if it is true
That only those who have suffered
At the hands of life
Can feel for others
Then I must stay and care for you
To prove you wrong
Or to prove you right.'

'Now who is the philosopher? '

'You, the soldier.'

They smiled and laughed together,
Happily,
Forgetting where they were.

Then came a time that passed
Without any words.

'Is it chance
That brought you here,
Ethene? '

'Yes chance
And the trees
And the flowers.'

'Yes the flowers
Are beautiful
I have thought of them also.'

He paused,
Regretting these words.

'And what else has brought you here? '

'That is in itself enough
But I also wished
To leave the farm and the city
And be by myself.'

'And why was that? '

'For the peace.'

'The peace! '

'Yes, the peace
And the quiet.
Somewhere, where I could be alone
With my thoughts.'

'Yes I understand.
And then I came along
To disrupt all that
And put you into this nightmare.
Please leave, I cannot bear to have
This inflicted upon you.'

'I wish to stay.
It is my choice.'

'But why?
Do not be stubborn.
Forget our little argument before.'

'I am not being stubborn.
I want to stay
Because I know I belong here.'

'You belong here? '

'Yes, do not ask me why.
I do not know why.
But I know I belong here.
I am comfortable here.'

'Comfortable, with a dying man
Next to you? '

'It is a mystery to me also.
But I do not want to leave.'

'You have given the meaning of compassion
New heights.'

'It is not compassion
Or selflessness.
I belong here.
And if I leave
All the glory
And all the happiness
Of the world cannot
Replace this.
And it seems the more I speak
The more I know.'

'Then speak more.'

'From childhood to now
My family and I
Have lived happy lives.
We have given each other
Everything of ourselves.
You could not wish to see
A happier family.
This is not to say
That we have not had
Some tragedy in our lives.
We have.
We've had death and disease
And the fury of nature's whims
And poverty.
And now in the midst of poverty,
Threatened by war.
But this was all not our doing
And within this we lived,
Or tried to live, happily
And as best we could
According to the laws of the Gods.
The other people of the city,
Or at least the majority, were like us
And each tried to live as was correct.
This is as much as I can explain,
If you can call it an explanation,
And I belong here.'

It began to drizzle then
And then to shower
And just when he began to worry for her,
It stopped.

'Promise me one thing, Ethene.'

'And what is that?
You know I will not leave.'

'Promise me you will never do as I have done.
Never submit to death.'

'Don't be silly.'

'I am not being silly.
Promise, and swear to a dying man
This promise.'

'I swear.'

How the day had developed
And how she came to be there
Seemed like a dream to her.







By Peter Stavropoulos

Performed 1987, in Melbourne, as a Radio Play by the 'Radio Players'.

Peter Stavropoulos (Best Love Poems)


 
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