Untitled

Each house I sleep in

becomes your grave.

I am always home, under it

it is always crowded December,

the day after Christmas.

I reduce light to the dark molasses

of every day after you

Κάθε σπίτι που κοιμάμαι

γίνεται ο τάφος σου.

Είμαι πάντα σπίτι, και κάτω από αυτό

είναι πάντοτε Δεκέμβρης, συνωστισμένος͘

η μέρα μετά τα Χριστούγεννα.

Πυκνώνω το φως στη σκούρη μελάσσα

όλων των μετέπειτα από εσένα ημερών

 


 

Translator’s Note:

This work represents an attempt at a true bilingual poem. There is no actual translation present.
When I attempt to write concurrently in my two native languages, I select wording that transfers
well across the cognitive-perceptual filters that languages create (which is something that only
multilinguals and linguists can truly grasp). English is always dominant over Greek in my
creative process. Through this approach however, they become co-dependent and offer the reader
a glimpse into the state of living with two languages in one’s mind.


Constantine Mountrakis HeadshotConstantine Mountrakis is an anthropologist and writer from New York City. He spent the last 8 years of his life in Athens, Greece, pursuing a doctorate and a really cool chick that he ended up marrying. His work has appeared in Punchnel’s, Red Fez, and Driftwood Press, among others.