Ξύπνημα Αυγούστου – Τάκης Πιερράκος

The seagull poet is flying,Hovering about everlasting momentsHovering about silver sparkles,Hanged in the air,Watching precisely

As we didn΄t manageTo dedicate excellent poetry to each other,As we didn΄t manageTo paint the

He strikes the chisel with the hammerAnd counting.Hesitations and certaintiesAre reflected on the materiality.Every time

The horizon is hidden by waves;Above, the chief wins waySurveying everythingLike a scorching spy,We are