Santorini -The naked child
Bend if you can to the dark sea forgetting 
the flute´s sound on naked feet 
that trod your sleep in the other, the sunken life. 

Write if you can on your last shell 
the day the place the name 
and fling it into the sea so that it sinks.

We found ourselves naked on the pumice stone 
watching the rising islands 
watching the red islands sink 
into their sleep, into our sleep. 
Here we found ourselves naked, holding 
the scales that tipped toward injustice. 

Instep of power, unshadowed will, considered love, 
projects that ripen in the midday sun, 
course of fate with a young hand 
slapping the shoulder; 
in the land that was scattered, that can´t resist, 
in the land that was once our land 
the islands, --rust and ash-- are sinking.

Altars destroyed 
and friends forgotten 
leaves of the palm tree in mud.

Let your hands go traveling if you can 
here on time´s curve with the ship 
that touched the horizon. 
When the dice struck the flagstone 
when the lance struck the breast-plate 
when the eye recognized the stranger 
and love went dry 
in punctured souls; 
when looking round you see 
feet harvested everywhere 
dead hands everywhere 
eyes darkened everywhere; 
when you can´t any longer choose 
even the death you wanted as your own-- 
hearing a cry, 
even the wolf´s cry, 
your due: 
let your hands go traveling if you can 
free yourself from unfaithful time 
and sink-- 
So sinks whoever raises the great stones.

George Seferis