from Monochords, Yannis Ritsos translated by Paul Merchant
		122 A star on the hill. And the strangled woman. 123 Did you see the freed prisoner's bundle on the garden chair? 124 A long Sunday with cypresses, birds, and water jars. 125 He breathes lovingly into the rose's ear. 126 They've left their shoes here, and their clothes still warm, to go for a swim in the river. 127 A sad little village with two chairs in the street. 128 The deeper the gaze, the more tight-lipped the mouth. 129 The lighthouse keeper's silent conversation with the ships he wrecks. 130 Hey, bowlegged man, ocean's bridegroom -- imagine the torment of your wedding dance. 131 He's holding a laurel leaf tight between his teeth. How will he sing? 132 Am I to tell the moon's secrets to the wounded? 133 Once beautiful, refined, elegant -- he's grown portly from praise. 134 How come the dead can rule our lives? 135 The pleasure of loneliness after paying off a debt. 136 A beautiful mouth, distorted by the sound of profundity. 137 He came down from the highest mountain. He's alone. 138 You were looking at the boundless sky through a star's keyhole. 139 He took off all his clothes as if amazed by the physicality of things. 140 This being empty, filling emptiness with emptiness, so the words can learn. 141 The colors, not single. Each one in relation to the rest. 142 Don't be afraid. Where they are going downstream there's a river and a garden. 143 A jasmine petal, in a glass of water, far away where you're taking me. 144 A working-class hotel. A candle on the washbasin. And muffled cries at night.