Gedicht
Kiki Dimoula
EASTER IN THE OVEN
The goat kept on bleating hoarsely.I angrily opened the oven what’s all the noise I asked
the guests can hear you.
Your oven’s not hot, it bleated
do something otherwise your cruelty
will go hungry and at festive time too.
I put my hand inside. It was true.
The head the legs the neck
the grass the pasture the crags
the slaughter all cold.
From: A minute´s licence
Publisher: Poetry Greece 2 p. 20-23, Corfu, 2000
Publisher: Poetry Greece 2 p. 20-23, Corfu, 2000
Easter in the oven
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Gedichten van Kiki Dimoula
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Easter in the oven
EASTER IN THE OVEN
The goat kept on bleating hoarsely.I angrily opened the oven what’s all the noise I asked
the guests can hear you.
Your oven’s not hot, it bleated
do something otherwise your cruelty
will go hungry and at festive time too.
I put my hand inside. It was true.
The head the legs the neck
the grass the pasture the crags
the slaughter all cold.
From: A minute´s licence
Publisher: 2000, Poetry Greece 2 p. 20-23, Corfu
Publisher: 2000, Poetry Greece 2 p. 20-23, Corfu
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