Ι know a secluded corner in a large park
where even loving couples never dare go,
for darksome waters lie there chockablock with rotted leaves,
and deep-green shadows droop in their aqueous veils.
There stand stone benches, ivy-trellised,
and naked statues, moss-clad,
and a deadly quiet but for the murmurous
lamentation of mysterious waters that goes on and on.
There Ι've always seen unknown and sallow women
as though without age, with no life in their eyes,
spread on their knees their eternal embroideries,
and pallid youths holding books in their hands:
yet those never embroidered and these never read,
but lost in thought gazed on the dark, stagnant waters.
C. Ouranis
Μετάφραση Γιάννης Γκούμας
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