Nikiforos Vrettakos

Υour Small Town

Truly, you couldn't possibly leave behind the time
you were afraid of the wolf and you were anxiously awaited the angel.
You studied the customs and traditions of history,
you passed under the arrows of contemporary events,
you've traveled... and yet you couldn't cast off
the small town of your childhood from your innermost,
the town made up of kind faces, bare or verdant plains, celestial things,
along with the esteemed old man sated with reflection and perception,
and high up, Taygetos, zooming proudly.

Truly, how smugly you would've felt if only you could,
turning your back to gigantic cities, had returned
to the things that were given to you and had weaved
your beautiful dream, if you had returned
to the hill where you sat , at one time, and reigned in peace,
...Returned under their gleeful glances
to gather your evening wood.