Spring symphony

Yannis Ritsos
Spring symphony 


Let me come along with you.What a moon tonight. 
It is a fine moon,-my hair will not show
that it has grown white. The moon 
will turn my hair once more into gold.You will not
           be able to notice.
Let me come along with you. 


When there is a moon the shadows in the house grow larger,
invisible hands draw the curtains aside
a pallid finger writes forgotten words on the dust 
of the piano - I do not want to hear them. Be still.


Let me come along with you,
A little farther down, as far as the brickyard enclosure,
down to the place where the road bends and the city 
appears cemented and airy,whitewashed with moonlight
so indifferent and immaterial 
as positive as metaphysics  
so that you can finally believe that you exist and that you  
           do not exist 
that you have never existed, that time and its ruin 
           have not existed 
Let me come along with you