Oh, you spiderchested gods,
flaunting algae beards and teeth like pomegranate seeds,
I am Persephone, once blind, my eyes a golden glass,
now become a seer like a white owl.
While I walk in the fields I can smell the olives
and my bliss curls up like a cat in the sun,
oh, trees ablaze with life, oh dry-rim heathers,
how I longed for you while I’d listen to the tales of dark Hades.
Sea water waves would break on the inside of my ear
like liquid drums thundering:
come into the light, Persephone, get out of the tunnel, Phersephassa,
come, desolate Periphonia!
In the beginning I felt the darkness shrouded
in barren women and men,
I couldn’t grasp at all this blackness
on which grey-tongued dogs seemed to feed.
There weren’t any birds there.
Then, on my left bosom I placed a hollow shell.
I wanted to dream of the flowing meadow,
of the gentle field and of the sun like a yellow sacrificial blade,
I wanted to touch the grass, even if it had been scorched,
I wanted to touch the leaves of countless families of trees.
For days and days I would sing out names of flowers:
daisies, pimpernel, campanulas,
dandelions, wild roses, poppies,
tousled flowers, flowers sweet to touch and smell.
The air was a hidden temple,
I would wander dazed, taste of tinder in my mouth.
And suddenly, at dawn I breached the wall,
and I could smell mad lemon,
and I got out into the shady light sleepless as I was.
First I saw the zephyr-stirred field,
and heard the birds rushing above the sea,
and shrubs had Gorgon hair,
then I shouted and made an oath to the sun.
I cut the storms’ head for all time
and the sea seemed white like a soft lamb.
The guards’ lips were covered in sand when they let me pass.
Now my joy is a fountain,
I say be praised,
water and sun, air and fruit,
grass and fish, bell and flower!
KORE PERSEPHONE (2004)
