‘…
An entire city of rustlings and sighs of life, flittings of sweet light spreading and playing like trembling childhood smiles of innocence. ‘…’ And here are the plans of the mind, they devise profit as a ruse to take the place of life, in a merciless struggle for dominance in which only weapons are strewn on the overgrown roads of beauty. ‘…’ Numberless fallen trunks, piled high, with rapidity are devoured by the voracious mouth of the subterfuge of life, which builds sham castles - of exile. ‘…’ because the trees were now far off, indifferent to the despicable death of human artifices.’ |
From the poem ‘The Tree outside Eden’, by Ioanna Moutsopoulou Cycle I: The Lost Self To read the whole poem, please, click here to order the poetry collection ‘Souls of Nature’ (Photograph by Yiannis Zisis) |