Late into the Night: The Last Poems of Yannis Ritsos

Cover image, a painting by the poet, contemporary to the poetry.

Two poems side by side close to middle of the book define this collection. The metaphors and images of age and loss and the animation of the special landscape surrounding the poet.

The Statues and Us
The statues are so calm. The ravages of time
don't concern them. There go their hands,
their feet, their head - but they
persevere in their original uprightness.
Even flat on their backs they smile,
or face down in the mud they turn
their backs on us, and on Time as if
surrendering themselves to some infinite
act of love-making, while we look on,
unaccountably tired and depressed. Later,
we go back to our shabby hotel, draw
the blinds against the afternoon glare,
and sprawl naked on the show more lumpy bed, emulating
the placid immobility of the statues.

Depletion
The horses with their handsome riders are gone.
The houses in the village are empty. A few old men
sit on the low wall and watch the sunset.
What's there to say? The wine-jars and the moon
have been empty for years. The old men have forgotten
their olive trees, their vines, their grandchildren.
But something at daybreak, in their sleep, they hear
the stars scratching on the wall with their nails,
searching for a treasure that's never been found.
When the old men wake up, they're more tired than ever.
They grasp their canes as if for support, or as if
to strike at some ancient enemy they can't see.

___

Ritsos was very old when he wrote these works. He died a few years later. They stare into the abyss, accept the limits of life, the little part we all play in it. They are not scared: stare back at the abyss, and accept the life lived.

The publisher is a little college in Ohio called Oberlin. Hard to find outside of USA, unless you pay extortionist postage. show less