Climb… Climb… Keep climbing.
Higher and higher.
At the top, Love’s waiting
With a bouquet of roses.
Climb. Go upward. Always higher.
If you don’t find a path
Carve it open. In Love
There are no ready-made ways.
You cleave them yourself.
Climb… Even if you may see
That the flowers are fake
And love, passionate love,
Is only smoke.
Keep climbing.
Climb… Even if at the top,
Instead of roses,
A bouquet of knives is waiting.
You keep climbing.
Climb… and say “thank you”
– not to the roses, not to the knife –
Say “thank you” only to the Strength
That enabled you to climb.
Menelaos Ludemis (the literary penname of Dimitrios Valasiadis), prose writer and poet. Born in Constantinople, he enrolled in the leftwing movement, which caused his deportation, and then his exile in Romania, after 1959. In Bucharest he created and published most of his works (23 titles comprising of poetry, novels, and short prose). He was one of the most important Greek writers in Romania, one of the most talented prose writers of his generation. He was also one of the most active promoters of Romanian literature in Greece.
