'Discharged' by Dinos Christianopoulos (read by Manos Cizek)

Written by Dinos Christianopoulos
Translated by Nicholas Kostis
Background paintings by Yannis Tsarouchis
Read by Manos Cížek

From the collective edition "Poems" by Dinos Christianopoulos, published by Odysseas Publications

Now, there is no military police anymore,
cries of corporals ripping open your dreams,
scrubbing the kitchen of some major's wife,
and hungering after a little warmth and comfort in the barrack every night
while smoking one cigarette after another.

Now, without military belt or beret,
dirty boots imply freedom,an open shirt means I am my own master,
here's even the small cord I used to clean my rifle,
I'll keep it to remind me of inspections.

I would like to buy something before leaving,
a bit of chintz for my sister, a toy for the youngsters,
but my pockets are as empty as my heart.
I would like to wander through the streets once more,
to see Salonika for the last time,
but I have no feet any more, no eyes,
I don't even feel like talking,
my mind is already travelling back to my village.

Horses 8, men 40
(may this be our last bottleneck, our last reward from the fatherland)
but why does this jolting squeeze my heart?
What we have gone through is nothing in comparison with what is to
come,
joblessness, drought, crop failure,
the daily struggle for a loaf of bread,
the children crying and father's pension inadequate,
and our uncle in America merely promises.

There is no end to this service.