Liturgy for peace

Penlope Doundoulaki
ΠΗΝΕΛΟΠΗ ΝΤΟΥΝΤΟΥΛΑΚΗ

The poem 'specks of dust' was written some years ago. The II War, the Battle of Crete, years 1940-45, have kept her mind busy for a long time. During the last two years she visited twice Auschwitz and Ebenzee concentration camps in Krakow [the second visit with her son]. Then she visited the concentration camp in Eisenhausen near Berlin, and then the Anti-Krieg Museum, as well.

Liturgy for peace

Now there are the memories

of the survivors

books, medals, photos.

Now there are - graves, flowers,dust

- some specks of dust

dancing through the sunbeams

some specks of dust

from those lost in the horrible battles

some specks of dust

from the victims of massacres

some specks of dust

from Anna

[killed by toxic gases]

some specks of dust

from her little son

[killed at the same time,too]

some specks of dust

from Werner' s eyeglasses

[really hated that war]

some specks of dust

from cities bombed

from villages put into fire

some specks of dust

from comrades

who never went back home.

Now, so many years after

these specks of dust

- unfulfilled wishes,

violently cut off dreams -

continue to fly - continue to dance - under the sunlight

over the blood-stained earth of Crete.

There have not been words

(there never shall be words)

to describe

all things that these specks of dust,

strolling in front of filled with tears eyes,

(can say.)

Eternity

My beloved one is sleeping in the mountains

cypresses bow to give him their shade

wild wine trees embrace him

sparrows build nests in his armpits

the leaves of plain trees make a quilt for him.

Eternity...
My beloved one is sleeping on the mountain

a restless wind dances with his dreams
his beard has been mixed with thyme

his hands have the skin of the pine tree

cyclamens stand on their stalk just for him

Eternity...

My beloved one is sleeping on the mountain

his hair keeps the touch of the anemones

his lips keep the taste of sage

his eyes keep a thunder on their sky

a butterfly blushes him with blue

Eternity...

My beloved one is sleeping on the mountain

his shoulders are cornerstones of old castles

his smile opens the way to hope

his speech can confront all weapons

his heart stays in vigilance for the whole world

Eternity...

My beloved one, a fighter for justice

my beloved one, a beggar for the seeker of the poor

my beloved one, a prisoner for truth,

my beloved one, a hermit of bitterness

my beloved one, a poet out of poems

high, on the top of the mountain

the rain washes his dusted clothes

the sun make his boots to fade

nightingales fly among his ribs

I scent jasmine flowers for his sake

I pull the stars off for his sake

I gather the words for his sake

Eternity...

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Liturgy for peace