THE MEANING OF SIMPLICITY
I hide behind simple things so you’ll find me;
if you don’t find me, you’ll find the things,
you’ll touch what my hands have touched,
our hand-prints will merge.
The august moon glitters in the kitchen like a tin-plated pot
(it gets that way because of what I’m saying to you),
it lights up the empty house and the house’s kneeling silence —
always the silence remains kneeling.
Every word is a doorway
to a meeting, one often cancelled,
and that’s when a word is true: when it insists on the meeting.
Ritsos (1946)
(trans from the greek by E. Keeley)
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