The Unknown River Poem by Joseph S. Josephides

No one ever learned about, nobody said a word
of Vokaros, the unknown river of Cyprus:
from where it springs, to where it flows into the sea.

Pithia, chewing daphne, said to my forefathers that
the river gives water to wild beasts and tranquilize them,
it overflows and thus drowns the besiegers of the land,
it also opens whirls to swallow the triremes of enemies.

Is this the river that refreshes our dear dead ones,
sweetens the lips of the youngsters when they kiss?
Is this the river that relieves the mothers' eyes?
Did it gush sweet water on the surface of Salt Lake,
and did it make the sacred skull of Lazarus fragnant,
also that of Onesilus, where bees produce honey?

Who gave Vokaros its name? Where it flows; How?

Maybe its waters have metals that strengthen
the fist of people, the breasts of working women?
it surely irrigates underground the crops of Mesaoria,
this river should faithfully accompany Saint Paul,
and softened the wounds of his whipped back.

Called upon geologists classified it as a brook,
some described it as a canyon that never gurgled.
But our beloved buried ones owe to it a lot,
since it watered ranks of their visions
which flow inside us as gracious myth.



© JosephJosephides