At the gulf of Thessaloniki

Sweet the light of afternoon falls

on the gulf of Thessaloniki

giving meaning to the ever moving waves

born together with my memories.

Their whispers are spread all over

accompanying the old angels

moved away from the temple of a Byzantine church.

And as the first evening makes me wet

with tears and sighs from the past,

cherubic clouds   in the west

take away the God inspired Nikolas Kavasilas,

Gregory Palamas and the zealots,

a multitude  of humble and saints, the people of God.

Blessed are the hours of the language of light,

temporary incorporeal prints

for him who knows the reading of quietness

and the hinted melody of the hidden love.

In the sky of Thessaloniki the eternity swims,

at the dawn of the third millennium of the Grace.

While the griefs flutter on the mobile phones

of the unreasonable loneliness and the longing of the touch

of the communion of the souls.

(25 selected luminous poems)

Μια σκέψη στο “At the gulf of Thessaloniki”

  1. Όσα και αν της βάλεις καλούδια, θα της πάνε …γιατί είναι τόσο απλή, τόσο όμορφη, η Θεσσαλονίκη μας με τον κόλπο της.

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