Included in “Ich Bebe”, first self-published electronically in 2007 without copyright ( http://www.triaridis.gr/ichbebe/ )
Every time he saw, still a teenager, on TV or in books
those famous wonders of the world,
Pyramids, Great Walls, Cathedrals reaching to the sky,
he thought of killers holding swords and whips
and slaves buried in various foundations
unable to hold out
and others slain, torn apart by the guards,
because in vain they tried to hide in their armpits
a handful of grain or rice.
That’s why he got really mad at the tourists
and the couples in love
who took photos in front of the Pyramids
and had the doom of the slaves
as background to their love.
Oh, he was truly peculiar:
when one day saw in the paper
a favorite opera singer of his
wear a Great Wall t-shirt
(he was on tour in China)
he tossed the paper in anger —
and for long stopped listening to his CDs.
And when again in a bar
found an old classmate of his
showing the group photos of the Escorial
(his Master’s in Spain being recent)
he turned his back and left without saying a word —
he knew, you see, how much Indian blood took the Escorial to be built…
And so time passed —
and so our hero grew,
as we all grow eventually,
(no, we don’t erase the blood of the Indians,
just see things more generally,
just put things in their historical frame).
And the horror (which, after all, was only theoretical —
a monomania of the mind, what can you do)
started to dull, to retreat inside him —
altogether natural too…
Once, with his girlfriend
— they were going well for a year now,
thought seriously of an engagement —
took a five-day trip to Cairo.
Already on the second day
their group visited Giza — however else?
the tour guide spoke, like tens of other tour guides in so many languages.
But the tourists only half-listened,
all posing for a photo with a background
of four and a half thousand years of history beckoning…
And as they stood in embrace
a couple of co-travelling pensioners
offered to take their photo
(“if you young people don’t have their photo taken, who will…”)
He had no trouble passing the camera;
you see, the day was warm and poetic
and the sun shone so magically by the Pyramids
that he set aside his mind’s corpses.
What can you do, that’s History, he thought.
Besides, they were two people in love —
is there anything more sacred than love?
And so they took their photo;
and the doom of the slaves
was background to their sacred love.
the Budafoki amended 