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Travel to a Summer in December
Banana palms, like
closed umbrellas,
vibrations in the wind.
Seasons, merry-go-round
with my winter-soul.
The Hawaii rose and
the bougainvillea
passionately bleeding
against white walls.
Alone in a deserted
hotel garden
under tracks of smoke
from planes on their way north.
Empty garden-chairs
framing the swimming-pool
forgotten outbursts of joy.
The evening clouds, frocks
crimson-red over distant hills and
newborn residential areas
without memories.
We resort to the ocean
the waves washing
the text of the time
again and again
against the shore
the endless questions
for a threatened world:
chaos or survival.
Xmas Day
Look up, they are coming
on the beach promenade
with palms in their hands
the whole of Larnaka on their wheels.
The line of cars
the sacred techno God of our times
on parade.
The roar of the traffic drowns the ocean
even the parrot has given up!
The Cages
The backstreets of Nicosia
the silent shopkeepers
in their doors
dark and friendly look
like icons.
“Winters in Norway are severe, which of course is not a problem when one is
young and keen on skiing and other winter activities. With the passage of time
however –and a great deal of poor health– Odd began to dread winter in Norway.
As a result he ‘discovered’ Cyprus and spent every winter there over a period
of 10 years, after he retired from his academic career. His wife died suddenly in
Cyprus in January 2001, and he did not return to the island after that. During those
ten years, however, he developed a deep and abiding love for Cyprus and was
interested in every aspect of it, which is clear from his poems”.
Margery Bloomfield