Yannis Kitsos
Son, my flesh and blood. marrow of my bones, heart of my own heart,
sparrow of my tiny courtyard, flower of my loneliness.
Where did my boy fly away? Where's he gone? Where's he leaving me?
The bird-cage is empty now, not a drop of water in the fount.
What ever made your dear eyes close and you blind to my tears?
How are you frozen in your tracks and deàf to my bitter words?
translation by Amy Mims
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