The Peregrine Muse

In Winters

Can’t find the words

To suit your eyes

Can’t find the words

To sculpt your body

Describing you

With indescribable words

The sea
Only the sea knows how
To keep its promises
Before its calm
After its calm
The infinite
More distant
So close
Beyond your eyes

Touching you
Touching your body
From another room
When thinking of you
In the other room
Like rain
In the rain
The white
Even more white
than marble

when silent
missing you again
and when missing
the rain comes
I hear your silence
In the rain
I opened the door
But didn’t go out
You didn’t come

She told me
Your poems
Warm clothes in hard winters
I told her
Your words
Warm clothes in hard winters too.

Dance a Waltz Tonight

Dance a waltz tonight
A waltz under the rainfall

Like the leaves
Whirled by the wind
when falling,
and your hair
fluttering in the music

and when the thin smoke
goes up
away the clouds will leave

dance a waltz tonight
and stars will fall
from the sky

In a kiss, a hug in your arms
some nostalgia
with a glass of red Sangria

Empty Streets

Empty streets
And in your eyes
A memory taking you away

A grey town
And your nights
Tearful in a corner

A voice
And the wind
Blowing your hair away

Like a bird
And like an angel
With broken wings

A wound
In your palm
Looking again for a new hug

And the rain
A tear in your eye
While waiting for the white sail

Empty streets
And from your eyes
A gull is going far

The Dead Soldier’s Ballad

My breath
In your mouth
My blood
From a wound

A wound
That stained
Your white

A scream
Like memory
Of a inextinguishable

My voice
Like open window
Even more blue
Than the Ocean

Hold still
The movement
Of my eyes

To look at you
Deep in the eyes
Not to get lost

My name
fresh water
on your lips,
of an

and when you quench your thirst

to kiss you...

In the Most Distant Spring

In the most distant spring
A tree
Is falling
In the river
Its hair
On fire
By the snow
in my palms
Filled with
Are its branches
And your silence

And I Was Left Alone…


The night flower
Wandering again
Under the moonlight
In silence
Just like you

And I was left alone

With the words
You loved

Traveler of Night

There are nights

That like a train are delayed

In the station

Comes the sleep

And in the waiting room

The last traveler

Smokes whistling

His already outdated


He Leaned

He gave his sadness
to the roses
He leaned a teardrop
Like a drop of rain
On their petals

And one shadow
He left in his eyes
You will be like Spring
He said to her...

I hope that you like it

Became Night...

In empty
A teardrop
Fell asleep

In a dream
That was dawn

Was dawn

And it was leaving

With you

It was leaving

As if
You were coming

To me...


The nightfall comes, always tired

Entering slowly through the door

That never closes

It sits at the end of the bed

Keeping its head in its two hands

It stands in front of the window

And doesn't speak to anybody

It looks only at the city

That always leaves it far behind

The Light that pales in its eyes

And then

The ward fills up with memories

The lamp blurs

From the pane

A teardrop rolls

My Eyes Filled

The boats are whistling

The harbor empty

The wind

Is playing with the baggage

Of the travelers

It is throwing down the bags

A dog

Is staring at me sadly

By the jetty

Anchors are speaking to me

From the bottom

One more cigarette

And my eyes

Are filled

With sea

Secret Extensions

Secret extensions
Of the horizon
Your eyelashes

Your brows
Two big black crescents

In your eyes
A teardrop
From my own

            From the collection Erotic Short Poems, 2005

When You Weep

When you weep
Two stars fall
Into the sea
Two eyes

In your eyes
A boat sinks

Two stars look at you
From the bottom
But you didn't see...

            From the collection Erotic Short Poems, 2005


A little boat of sea
With the right oar

A seabird,
The wave
On its left side

With a piece of
In its beak

With two wings

The rain
In its eyes

Your silence
My songs

Stay with me tonight
though far

Now everything
speaks of you

A sea
on fire
in my hands


Your silence
My songs

Stay with me tonight
though far

Now everything
speaks of you

A sea
on fire
in my hands

When Memories Come

I seek your name
Like on a strand
Where raindrops fall
But have been washed away

I hear at night
Your eyelids blinking
But in the morning
Wake up alone again

Sorrow is born in harbors
Where ships never anchor

Standing alone
In front of a window
Listening to music

And when memories come
The tears in your eyes
Like rain on a pane of glass

The Wind

The wind
In your hair

A statue
Without a head
Looking at us
With its hands

Dimitris Papadopoulos, who lives in Athens, was born in Mycenae, an ancient well-known city in southern Greece. He began writing poetry as a young boy and his original style has remained much the same over time. Dimitris recently published his first collection, Erotic Short Poems, two of which appear on Soul to Soul, translated by Dimitris Palasis. His most recent poems have been translated by Piriovolis Georgia.

Poetry of Dimitris A. Papadopoulos