Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
The earth has a great sense of
Its denizens
Just as we look at snails
With indifference,
We do not intend to kill them,
Just let them crawl to their will
Do gods look at us
With dismissible attentions.
Earth does not mind
If one comes to it bound in a bed
Or supplied by the waves
Just a few tangle-less bones.
Ashes the waters know
Where to deposit
And how,
Without making much fuss.
Earth makes no specifications.
The grave in which a body is placed
May have the ashes of a person
Who was burnt and
Then flowed into the waters.
It is the cosmic mix up
Where divisive mess does not work
Rather, consciousnesses merge into one.
We were so glad to be different
We followed different gods and gospels
To the extent of fighting each other
Gods tell me, I fell down
In a fist fight of two religions,
But now, when the bodies are gone
We are only two consciousnesses, sitting close by.
In fact, I saw, gods do not encourage divisions.
A man who had streaked in with
An earthly touch,
And talked of colours,
Was thrown back into the fires of hell,
I saw him tumbling down and crying
God are kind but this kindness does not work
When people come to divide
The Kingdom of God and speak like Devils.
