Icarus Sad, agitated, nearly illiterate, After high school a waiter luckily, He wears his obsessive, all-black hoody And throws himself into the cosmic mystery, In all this pandemonium of stars. I can hear his confused steps. The deeper the night, the more they sound like The crawl of the baby I raised In so many demon-like flaps, In such a love panic, And then, a man already, he turned and saw What comets see on a blind flight Springing into chaos. My loneliness, my rage, my stupidity, I don’t want the verses to pity them tonight But little by little light up one after the other The lights of the Saturday city. His friends to climb the rooftops Wave at him, whistle, Tell him “Fly, fly!” in an instance of betting, “There is a good god, the joyful Moon nests are sparkling. Who will not take you in their arms, Who will ever deny you a place…” (Translation into English: Eleftheria Tsitsa) For a Rare Name It assured her she would not be al...