Ghiannis Stavrinos Economedes Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

While we were enjoying food and drinks in bulk,
careless, in places of rest and relax,
you appeared in front of us as angel,
raising your writing pad as a wing,
also your inkstand as a sword,
and you let your body fall heavy on our table;
then our knives and forks blew up in the air,
like the coins in the Temple of Solomon,
pieces of roast meat hurled onto our heads,
as the stone of David on the Goliath’s forehead.

While falling you stammered: ‘It’s accomplished!
I’ll sleep, still awakening, where you dare not to go'.
Then your aroma spread in Carpasia and Achaeon Akti.

Ever since you return in the evenings
as an angel and a teacher, via tunnels that
you dugged under the ground for us to pass;
through those you guide mothers to meet dead children,
you call us to live near our roots, our inaccessible places
near all our kids lent to us but one day we’ll give them back.

There, among us, you teach in this hidden school of souls,
whilst Solomos and Kalvos fly above your head,
and bless you by sprinkling you with a bunch of basil.




© JosephJosephides