Ortygia

How long I’m standing here on Ortygia? Remain motionless under the hot sun. Looking like a marble kouros with broken hands. I search the wind for the cool breeze of Aegean, the sweet smell of Delos which gave its name to this place. I have to caress the Doric columns in temples of Apollo, Athena and Artemis. I have to easy their eternal nostalgia. But the source of Arethusa brings black water from Alpheus today. Olympia is being burned and my heart comes out of me falls on the asphalt and breaking in pieces. Gods! What the barbarians doing again in our homeland, while we’re standing here? You as bare models for tourists and me like a marble kouros with broken hands.