In the evenings my soul is dressed as a girl, puts her jewelry on
She goes out to the streets, sings, dances, goes shopping
She takes a walk in the city center and goes to the suburbs
She wears mom's clothes even though they are huge
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She talks to strangers and flirts with guys and girls
She still remembers that you spat on her and hit her
She finishes the drinks at the empty tables of those who leave
She joins random groups but they avoid her
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Only awful, slimy men, take her on their knees
They touch her, salivating, they bite her
Disgusted, she screams and falls to the floor
Stupid people around her laugh and make fun of her
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And she ends up on the street, sweaty from her battle
Taxis refuse to allow her in and she cries alone
Covered with lipstick, blush and mascara
Passers-by ask her "Poor soul, where did you crash?"
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And she lets the sunrise find her lying in a park
Hurt from fires, earthquakes and wars
Bleeding and asking to return home
In a house, in a city, dead and uninhabited
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~*~
Psixi (Soul) by Spiros Grammenos
Dedicated to Zak/Zackie
YOU ARE READING
Translations
PoetryTranslations of songs, poetry and other works of art by panoptis. Mostly Greek to English & vice versa.
