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CHRISTODOULOS E.G. MOISA
ELEGY II
In memory of Andreas Thomas
You sat there
looking up at me
your soulful dark eyes
those of
a Bassset Hound
that never
wanted to be
an Alsatian
and your shoulders
had a stoop
that only one
who carries
the worries
of the world
has.
And you leaned back
in your chair
and
weathered
my self righteous tirade
much like a bamboo stalk
weathers a storm
and then
you began to speak
quietly
as a teacher would talk
to an recalcitrant student
your voice soothing
somehow
calming me down
as you explained to me
that you
were only
the caretaker
and then added:
The Government
has no money for books friend…
It spends it
on guns
and as
for the Ministry they
only send me people
who are
damaged by the war
or by life…
or are waiting
like me
until
they are appointed as teacher …
And that can take ten years…
A farcical
rite of passage
the wait…
after
six years
in foreign universities
learning
two new languages
and getting
a piece of paper
that says Master… yes Master!
Master of what?
Master of futility
more like it …
And
you said it
as if I was visiting
some provincial Russian town
and a Chekhov or a Tolstoy
were explaining to me
the laws of Governance
on the Steppes
of Russia …
And taking off
your tinted glasses
you cleaned them
saying
that I was right
old books should be respected
they should be cared for
from the vagaries
of light
dust
and humidity
and you got up
and moving into the main room
you walked over
and slammed the window shut
the window rattling
shutting out
that bright siesta light
the smells of summer …
We are like that garden
you said
nodding towards the outside
We try to survive
in a hostile land …
This country sucks every drop
of goodness
from us
from everything …
and then
shrugging your shoulders
you added
At least in that garden
grass and roses
are treated the same …
And then
you asked me if I’d like a coffee
and after
you introduced me to your staff
and then
you mused aloud
with
a deprecating smile
followed by a deep sigh
We are but
beached whales here
friend
waiting to die …
And I think it was then
that I said that
that was almost a haiku
and
to my surprise
you knew what a haiku was
and a tainka
and a roei …
and then we started
talking about haiku
those
of Bashoh and Seferis
and then
of other poetry
that of Cavafy
Ritsos and all the greats …
So was
our first meeting
Andrea
at the
old Lefkosia Public Library.
