Our Mind Is A Virgin Forest Of Killed Friends... - Poem by Giorgos Seferis
'our mind is a virgin forest of killed friends.
And if I talk to you with fairy tales and parables
it is because you listen to it more sweetly, and you can't talk of horror because it's alive
because it doesn't speak and moves
it drips the day, it drips on sleep
like a pain reminding of evils.
To speak of heroes to speak of heroes: Michalis
who left with open wounds from hospital
may have talked of heroes when, that night
he was dragging his foot in the blacked-out city,
was screaming feeling our pain 'in the dark
we go, in the dark we move...'
Heroes move in the dark.
G. Seferis, Teleftaios Stathmos
Comments about Our Mind Is A Virgin Forest Of Killed Friends... by Giorgos Seferis
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You