my memoirs: Greece

the eternal question

(as considered in a light-hearted moment one morning in Kardamyli and just before my early morning swim in the warm, still, calm sea)
early this morning there was a glimmer of light in the east,
and a mug of tea was before me on the table,
and a cock crowing in the west and a stray dog barking,
with another barking in reply – and there was I –
looking at the brightening sky –

oh my oh my –
why oh why –
why oh why oh why?

That is the question: it’s not to be or not to be
it’s why, and why, and why
here in Greece, where the thinkers thought,
that eternal question was always asked
but always, always it came to nought
so that still we have to ask
as another flask
of glorious golden Samian wine
goes pouring down our throats
his and hers and yours and mine
the answer never comes it never did
but it isn’t wrong
to ask the question
and hear it floating like a song –

why oh why,
why oh why oh why?