Basic HTML Version
35
By the Walls of Kition
Time has gone to rest
in the chalk white decay
of the colonnades.
The resin rubbing of the grasshoppers
polish the marks of the swords
and the violence of history.
With patience the eucalyptus trees
paint the summer wind
without a brush.
The thoughts build fragile bridges
across the merciful forgetfulness
of the centuries.
A peculiar feeling of weariness
rests in the petrified forests of memories
where green lizards bolt in circles
on broken remnants of holy ground.
Peace
Larnaka Bay
It links the days together
the sunsilverbridge
suspended across the bay
on columns of light.
The ocean waves row
towards you
with hands full of
confidence.
Brushing away
your restlessness and worries
Only this blue
picture
of eternity
vaulting a soul.
“I feel extremely fortunate to have met such a wonderful human being and
I have happy memories of the stimulating discussions we had together.
He was indeed a most cultured man and he loved Cyprus very deeply”.
Martino Tirimo