A happy dove is hard to find...

 

Today I wanted to see a happy dove.
I woke up in this mood.
Maybe because the garden of Crete was waiting for me, 

maybe because I was thinking of moments of fleeting passion, who knows…
In any case I wanted to find a happy dove that would look at me and understand.
I passed by the neighborhood market in Lower Dorcolbut nothing, no luck.
Just some vegetables, medium quality, and some sad tomatoes ready to burst from the heat and boredom.
Walking towards the office I had lost all hope for the appearance of the dove I had been waiting for so long.
Suddenly before entering the building that houses my petty bourgeois insecurity I felt a small jolt in my shoulder.
My good suit, my expensive suit had just been spoiled by the filthy stump of a dove! Half a step before I crossedthe doorstep.
Damn, my misfortune!
As you understand every thought about happy doves flew away and desires incompatible with the love of birds overwhelmed me.
I looked around and hurried into the office. 

Fortunately, no one had seen me.
I felt ashamed and disappointed about this incident.
“Let it be” I thought.
After superficially cleaning the good and expensive suit, I opened my computer.
I was trying to concentrate but hey, my mind was stuck on the misfortune I had to accept the feces of a random pigeon!
After a while, I turned off the computer and left the office to go get a coffee.
Observing the crowds I saw something strange.
All the men who wore suits, expensive suits, had the feces of birds, probably pigeons, on their shoulders.
But what had happened…?
A conspiracy of pigeons to shit on elite executives?How? Why?
The spectacle was horrible; almost disgusting.
I looked up and saw three pigeons looking at me and smiling ironically.
I gave them a wild look and they understood.
I promised myself not to let it go.
But before I could retaliate, the pigeons flew and started circling over my head.
I was being ridiculed; it was obvious that all this was aimed at my personal humiliation.
I managed to order a single origin espresso.
The happy pigeons were standing in front of me.

 

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Ο Κήπος της Εδέμ/The Garden of Eden

Ζω σε έναν κήπο, περιτριγυρισμένο από όμορφα δέντρα, πολύχρωμα λουλούδια και ανυπόμονα πουλιά.

Πίσω μου υπάρχει ένα θορυβώδες σύμπαν, με ωθεί να σταματήσω να αισθάνομαι και να αρχίσω να ενεργώ.
Είμαι τόσο μπερδεμένος από τη μυρωδιά του σύκου που δεν μπορώ ούτε να αφήσω τον εαυτό μου να φύγει.

Μήπως αυτός είναι ο λόγος πίσω από την ευδαιμονική μου άγνοια;
Μπορώ να ξεφύγω από την Εδέμ δίχως μώλωπες;
Τα λόγια μου δεν είναι αρκετά, ούτε τα γράμματα μου.

Η κληρονομική αδυναμία μου είναι υπέροχη για τους θεατές του δράματος.

Δραματική τέχνη στον κήπο της Εδέμ χωρίς θεατές αλλά με τραγούδια πουλιών και μυρωδάτα σύκα. \ Μερικές φορές σκέφτομαι να αρχίσω να ενεργώ…

Και πάλι… προσποιούμαι ότι φεύγω από τον κήπο.
Όταν κοιτάζω τριγύρω, δεν υπάρχει τίποτα άλλο παρά σπουδαίοι ηθοποιοί, ανυπόμονοι θεατές και λίγα θυμωμένα πουλιά.
Το σύμπαν μου θα με παρηγορήσει για λίγο.

 —————————————————————

I’m living in a garden, surrounded by beautiful trees, colorful flowers and impatient birds.

Behind me there is a noisy universe, urges me to stop feeling and start acting.

I’m so confused by the smell of the fig that I cannot even let myself go.

 

Could this be the reason behind my blissful ignorance?

Can I escape of Eden without bruises?

My words are not enough, neither my letters.

 

My hereditary weakness is lovely for the spectators of the drama.

 

Dramatic art in the garden of Eden without spectators but with singing birds and fragrant figs..\Sometimes I think about start acting…

 

Then again…I pretend I’m leaving the garden.

When I look around there is nothing but great actors, impatient spectators and few angry birds.

My universe will comfort me for a while.