This sun was mine and yours; we shared it. <br />Who's suffering behind the golden silk, who's dying? <br />A woman beating her dry breasts cried out; `Cowards, <br />they've taken my children and torn them to shreds, you've <br />killed them <br />gazing at the fire-flies at dusk with a strange look, <br />lost in blind thought.' <br />The blood was drying on a hand that a tree made green, <br />a warrior was asleep clutching the lance that cast light <br />against his side. <br /> <br />It was ours, this sun, we saw nothing behind the gold <br />embroidery <br />then the messengers came, dirty and breathless, <br />stuttering unintelligible words <br />twenty days and nights on the barren earth with thorns only <br />twenty days and nights feeling the bellies of the horses <br />bleering <br />and not a moment's break to drink rain-water. <br />You told them to rest first and then to speak, the light had <br />dazzled you. <br />They died saying `We don't have time', touching some rays <br />of the sun. <br />You'd forgotten that no one rests. <br /> <br />A woman howled `Cowards'. like a dog in the night. <br />Once she would have been beautiful like you <br />with the wet mouth, veins alive beneath the skin, <br />with love. <br /> <br />This sun is ours; you kept all of it, you wouldn't follow <br />me. <br />And it was then I found about those things behind the <br />gold and the silk: <br />we don't have time. The messengers were right<br /><br />Giorgos Seferis<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/our-sun/
