We are children of hatred most often,
we only stop when we gather rocks
on the sunny shores of the Aegean Sea.
We have long ago forgotten how to feed the fish.
We are children of hatred leisurely,
we dress in words like sea urchins,
and look tense in the horizon,
waiting for the sun to descend.
We can tread on serpents, and scorpions,
yet we are afraid to be seen from near,
because our hunger
darkens the sky.
I will unclothe you from death with my bare hands,
your venom does not harm me, you are the child of love –
I will only go through a subtle change:
from man of dust to man of fire.