Sunday 11 April 2021 | 3:23 AM Damascus Time
Christos R. Tsiailis


Jean-Francois Millet/ French Painter (1868-1873).
  • Tuesday 27 October 2020


The Things spring Should

Such an airy being
colourful daughter, beautiful, punctual
yet how desolately temporarily committed
the sky loves her so,
that at her sight he stops crying
timid as she draws nigh
so unfulfilled she parts
dragged by the will of the giants of the heat and frost
those who land and sea defile
how do they command the water
sometimes to mercerise it
sometimes to send to oblivion
how much do they seem the daughter to loathe
as they harden the soil under a wild mantle,
dark as an ebony,
like a deep-coloured khaki
making sure in their reign
seed shall not sprout.

And winds from their infancy
wild to turn day by day –see- how they train them
to terrify all living things
and force them sturdy nests to build
there, where such a colourful daughter
never again will dance proud.

And when they are tired sitting on their throne,
again the garden they shall free
for the pretty girl to paint
and joy to offer the skies for a while.

It is when creatures roam in black and white
Oh how much the daughter craves to see them
and welcome them
with a basket of colours and smells in hundreds
to treat them generously
with winged bugs a pile.

And in the softened dirt
thin-long creatures or round
in an erotic dance
the world's fifth essence
as they thrive.

Naked trees malformed how they are waiting for her
green eyes opening with tears in the morning
at noon proud blossoms
half-ripe afternoon fruit so gnarled
for the heatwaves ready
they shall bid her farewell.

spring should be claiming more,
a lush meadow on every land
edge to edge
eternally to host her
without nests united with streets
she ought to ask the days if they love her
and if yes is what they answer
honour them she should as she desires
and not how others direct

her flesh should be mightier
its spores deep in the heart of Hades
to suck life from there
until they put forth shoots
then frost and heat
myths shall become ancient
to remind of the dark years

When the balances of the new earth
a new turn they shall take
gorgeous animals will tell their grandchildren wonderful fairy tales
about the people of old times
before they stopped building
and in their fiction
an eternal spring’s authors will imagine them
on crisp see-saws
the more munched the more re-sprouted
as it appears.

spring ought to ask the months if they love her,
she should be more violent, more disgraceful,
the giants to diminish
spring had to love Spring more.