Mature Ears

Mature fruit, free clean and in the thick fields

rich golden ear

June month, month mower to fatigue and the fire of the Sun

Spilled ear

With thin wicker loops

And wild-ears in the harsh blond haystacks

tied the dense bundles

 

And then Julius we are cutting,

 fruit fallen In rocking and sifting

 in harvesting to grind

 The worm from wheat

stands out

  to make the sweet bread roll

 

Inside the palms

Sweet bread, God's gift ......I am the bread of life, the good seedling ...... of the earth

with sacred seed fermented protoplast

well made

 

The Sweetest Bread

 my mother caress, mother kiss

hungry people ............

 on a wooden table "hot bread" share enemies and friends

bread from sun and light shared .... Bread blessed

 

 God's wheat

The tall cars were loaded and gone

Inside the deserted and empty State remains

 The hand that will paint only on the big walls BREAD AND FREEDOM (Odysseas Elytis)