Even though we have broken their statues,Even though we drove them out of their temples,
In no wise did the gods die for all that.
O land of Ionia, it is you they love still,
It is you their souls still remember.
When upon you dawns an August morn,
Some vigour of their life pervades your atmosphere,
And once in a while, an ethereal, youthful form,
Indistinct, in rapid stride,
Passes above your hills.
In no wise did the gods die for all that.
O land of Ionia, it is you they love still,
It is you their souls still remember.
When upon you dawns an August morn,
Some vigour of their life pervades your atmosphere,
And once in a while, an ethereal, youthful form,
Indistinct, in rapid stride,
Passes above your hills.
imagem: fotogramas de Megalexandros (1980), de Theo Angelopoulos.
(poema e filme oferecidos pelo senhor da Alvenaria)
