A spring evening. A large room in an old house. A woman of a certain age, dressed in
\nblack, is speaking to a young man. They have not turned on the lights. Through both
\nwindows the moonlight shines relentlessly. I forgot to mention that the Woman in
\nBlack has published two or three interesting volume of poetry with a religious flavor.
\nSo, the Woman in Black is speaking to the Young Man:
\nLet me come with you. What a moon there is tonight!
\nThe moon is kind \u2013 it won\u2019t show
\nthat my hair turned white. The moon
\nwill turn my hair to gold again. You wouldn\u2019t understand.
\nLet me come with you.<\/p>\n
When there\u2019s a moon the shadows in the house grow larger,
\ninvisible hands draw the curtains,
\na ghostly finger writes forgotten words in the dust
\non the piano \u2013 I don\u2019t want to hear them. Hush.<\/p>\n
Let me come with you
\na little farther down, as far as the brickyard wall,
\nto the point where the road turns and the city appears
\nconcrete and airy, whitewashed with moonlight,
\nso indifferent and insubstantial
\nso positive, like metaphysics,
\nthat finally you can believe you exist and do not exist,
\nthat you never existed, that time with its destruction never existed.
\nLet me come with you.<\/p>\n
We\u2019ll sit for a little on the low wall, up on the hill,
\nand as the spring breeze blows around us
\nperhaps we\u2019ll even imagine that we are flying,
\nbecause, often, and now especially, I hear the sound of my own dress
\nlike the sound of two powerful wings opening and closing,
\nyou feel the tight mesh of your throat, your ribs, your flesh,
\nand when you enclose yourself within the sound of that flight
\nyou feel the tight mesh of your throat, your birds, your flesh,
\nand thus constricted amid the muscles of the azure air,
\namid the strong nerves of the heavens,
\nit makes no difference whether you go or return
\nit makes no difference whether you go or return
\nand it makes no difference that my hair has turned white
\n(that is not my sorrow \u2013 my sorrow is
\nthat my heart too does not turn white).
\nLet me come with you.<\/p>\n
I know that each one of us travels to love alone,
\nalone to faith and to death.
\nI know it. I\u2019ve tried it. It doesn\u2019t help.
\nLet me come with you.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
A spring evening. A large room in an old house. A woman of a certain age, dressed in black, is speaking to a young man. They have not turned on the lights. Through both windows the moonlight shines relentlessly. 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A large room in an old house. A woman of a certain age, dressed in black, is speaking to a young man. They have not turned on the lights. Through both windows the moonlight shines relentlessly. I forgot to mention that the...","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18245"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=18245"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18245\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":18247,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/18245\/revisions\/18247"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/18202"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=18245"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=18245"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.lecturesbureau.gr\/1\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=18245"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nGiannis Ritsos<\/strong><\/em>
\nTranslated by Peter Green and Beverly Bardsley<\/em>
\nSource: http:\/\/www.poetryinternationalweb.net\/pi\/site\/poem\/item\/2678\/auto\/MOONLIGHT-SONATA<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"