from Amorgos

In the backyard of the embittered no sun rises
Only worms come out to deride the stars
Only horses are in bud on ant-hills
And bats are eating birds and pissing seed.

In the backyard of the embittered night is king
Only the throngs of leaves throw out a river of tears
When the devil goes by to ride on the backs of dogs
And the crows are diving in a well of blood.

In the backyard of the embittered the eye has run dry
The brain has turned to ice and the heart petrified
Frogs’ flesh hangs from the teeth of the spider
Crickets howl starving at the feet of vampires.

In the backyard of the embittered grass comes up black
Only, one May evening, a breeze went by
A light footstep like the movement of a meadow
A kiss of the foam-embroidered sea.

And if you are thirsty for water we shall milk a cloud
And if you are hungry for bread we shall slaughter a nightingale
Only hold out a moment for the bitter herb to open
For the dark heavens to flash, for the candlewick to blossom.

But it was a wind that went, a lark that perished
It was the face of May, the whiteness of the moon
A light footstep like the movement of a meadow
A kiss of the foam-embroidered sea.

Translated by Sally Purcell

Nikos Gatsos’s profoundly mysterious and magnetic poem Amorgos, named after a Greek island he never visited and written during the Nazi occupation, is the single work on which his reputation rests. It is a wonderful incantation on the theme of loss and hope – a unique blend of surrealism, symbolism and folk song – lyrical and erotic, sometimes celebratory, sometimes bitter. It was much admired by the Nobel laureates Odysseus Elytis and George Seferis, and was hugely influential on the postwar generation of Greek poets. However, after its publication in 1943, Gatsos abandoned poetry, and wrote only popular songs, for which he was later renowned.