Epistrofi i Gyrismos

Etsi loipon me Milosz: There is so much death, and that is why affection / for pigtails, bright-colored skirts in the wind, / for paper boats no more durable than we are..., me BS Johnson: trying to say something about the writing and nothing being an answer to the loneliness to the lack of loving (...) I have to write something, to pass the time, being interested in so much, everything really, everything, compulsively, nihil humanum a me alienum puto and all that jaz., me Lorca: He wants. We all want. But this is his sin: to want. One shouldn't want, one should love. And so he fails. (...) Poetry doesn't need skilled practitioners, she needs lovers, and she lays down brambles and shards of glass for the hands that search for her with love., ola afta pou diavasa kathws eleipes, kai me kako fai kai lypi, here xana, me tin Achilleio plevra mou chorotopothetimeni kai taftohronos perivlimeni apo ton fovo tou fou, shedon sta exw tou Septemvri, apo mesa, me kleista parathyra kai 40 vathmous kelsiou, ton L. Cohen na sigontarei ekmaievomena deja-vous, kai ta egkeniazomena krevvatia apo myrwdies heiragwgimenes, etsi loipon, o Gyrismos i i Epistrofi, stin parigoria twn daktylwn, meres -kai prosehws: nyhtes- pou i mousiki den tou kanei ta hatiria kai zei osa den sumvainoun gyrw tou pisw apo tis vlefarides, kai eniote, tin Vodka.
Ta heili mou se kratisan, daneiko ap' ta dika tis, mehr/is here:

It is true. We have a beautiful time
As long as time is time at all.