The Living Dead

Honouring our poetic ancestors 

The Comforter
By Dimitris Tsaloumas (1921-2016)

So that's how the land lies?

You've no idea how I hurried in this heat

with not a leaf stirring in the poplars

and my throat as dry as a bone.

It's closed; I shut it.

Yes, the window too. Don't worry.

I've a good mind to put you out in the yard

so that he'll find you there, next to the tin-can

with the jonquil, where you can see the shore

crowded with sponge-boats back from Barbary.

All hell's let loose at Rebelos's place

with sponge-divers

chucking their money around by the fistful.

I can hear you. Your voice is a bit hoarse

but I can hear you. And don't turn to the wall

and curl yourself up that way.

You've never been scared of war or woman

in your life. What's got into you now?

It's nothing � you'll see.

He never comes with a taxman's satchel in his hand

or in a gendarme's uniform.

In fact, they say he's rather gently-spoken

so perhaps he'll just sigh a bit and say

come on, Nicolas old chap,

come on, we're running late and ought

to cross the border before nightfall.

No matter how often you take this road

you never get used to it.

You know, he's got his problems too.

I can see you, I can see you �

don't imagine I'd take my eyes off you now

you poor bugger!

And where's that no-good son of yours?

You can bet he'll be coming home now,

as soon as he gets the message,

to rip open the mattress.

Look, I�ll get the woman next door

to light the icon-lamp. I�ll be back,

never fear. I�ll go for a stroll on the beach

and I�ll be back.

From The Observatory. Brisbane, University of Queensland Press, 1985

Today we're revisiting Australian-Greek poet Dimitris Tsaloumas, who was featured in 'I Wish I'd Written This' in October 2012. The poem I chose that time was full of his undoubted love for his adopted country. He also continued to have great love for his native land, despite having to flee it in 1951 due to persecution for his political ideas.

In later life, with the political climate much changed, he spent part of every year back in Greece. He died recently aged 94, having spent his last three years on the island of Leros, his birthplace.

After migrating, he didn't start writing poetry again until 1974, but then went on to have a distinguished career, writing in both Greek and English. Wikipedia tells us that:

Among the many prizes he has received for his writing are the National Book Council Award (1983), Patrick White Award (1994) and an Emeritus Award from Literature Board of the Australia Council for outstanding and lifelong contribution to Australian literature (2002).

My previous column refers you to the article about him at Australian Poetry Library, where you can also read many of his poems. Today I'm linking you to an obituary by Jason Steger, Literary Editor of the Melbourne Age.

Poems and photos posted to 'The Living Dead' for purposes of study and review remain the property of the copyright holders.