Ola ta Eepofero

Page Forty-two

sehnen posted on Jun 06, 2008 | views: 85 | Tags: kalisperax, my lost friendsx

still fri 6 june, 2008   Greenfield

A little poem an old lady taught me a long, long time ago. It’s a poem you can say to anyone you love, and I, of course, am leaving it here for my 14 stolen friends. The verbs are all singular (like you know or care?), and I, being the fussbudget about such things that I am, should change one of them to the plural, and I’m not going to. But I do have to transliterate. That’s not something dirty. It’s something languagey people do all the time.                                        

esee may vas anyeezees
ma ti boro na po
ola ta eepofero
yatee se agapo.
———— (anonymous)

 

Eenay ola eleenyeeka ya sena

Loose ends to tie up, etc. The loose ends are taking a bit longer than I thought they would. Loose ends on blogs, loose ends in this existence that isn’t my own life, and other kinds of loose ends as well. Still trying to tie them up.

Some more words for my animals. I like corny old folk songs, and the older, the better. And the more versions of each one I can find, the better. I’ve heard 3 different versions of this one, all called Ned of the Hill, but with different music and different words. Anyway, I don’t know the name of the person who wrote these sad, corny lyrics. However corny you may find them, I like them, and they fit what I’ve been going through. 

through frost and through snow
tired and hunted I go
in fear of both friend and neighbor.
my horses run wild
my acres untilled
and all of it lost to my labor.
but what grieves me still more
than the loss of my store
is there’s no one who’d shield me (us) from danger.
so my fate it must be
to bid farewell to thee
and languish amid strangers.

So much waste, so much broken, so much useless struggle. It wasn’t worth it.

Update 17 June 2009: I was very depressed when I wrote this post, and angry too. I can feel little bite in some of my words. But last June I had absolutely no idea how very long it was going to go on: the wandering on streets through frost and snow and heat, and no one to shield me from any of it. If the feds were protecting me from a bullet, they were not protecting me from the homelessness, from the humiliation and degradation, from the 15 months of living a nightmare and languishing among strangers. I also had the belief still (when I first wrote this) that the DMH would help me, and that I’d get to visit some of my animals in their “foster” homes, and that I would get some of them back. Early June 2008, when this was written, I had no idea how very bad things were going to get and how long they were going to go on. And I kept myself going whatever way I could (denial, shtyk, pushing away my grief, living outdoors), because after Matthew told me “feds,” I believed without question that I would be located in a home somewhere and have some of my animals returned to me. And he knew I believed this, and never told me otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~  website  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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