Ευχές για την εθνική αναγέννηση δια την παλιγγενεσία

A little longer now, blossoms and as if in flight will bloom; a little further now and Ithaca may come in sight
Breathe scents from almond blooming trees; while summer rain and winter snow can make Ithaca fade away
Scents are god’s gift to gods, while all imagined isles like Ithaca are sanctioned by some poet
Who wisely know that only god can make a tree while this here poem is fashioned by a fool like me.

Don’t ask how far it is, to Ithaca! Know that the way will be long and hard, with ups and downs
Your entry into Ithaca always will be delayed All routes pointing to Ithaca are paved with joy doubt and hope
Don’t take the road to Ithaca unless you know what it’s about.

Don’t start out for Ithaca unless you have thought it through
Don’t be carried away by poetry, most of your dreams will never come true
Your chances of reaching Ithaca, remote it is right from the start
But if you set out for the Island, go forward with joy in your heart
Brimming over as you set forth, don’t give up on your fancies too soon
Stay carefree while keeping your heart strong, above all move with sure steps all day long

There’s no Roman road to that Island of somewhere
Though headlong, straight on, you must go
Travel should not be hurried along, but never give up on your song
Don’t hold back on the beat of some rousing or romantic refrain
Some days will pass with great interest, while others may go awfully wrong
There will be days when you’ll see high spires above Ithaca; the moment though won’t hang around long
Rub your eyes, look again and it’s gone
Sometimes you’ll think you’ve touched Ithaca, yes it happened to me twice perhaps
But don’t be carried away by theatrical masks
Think of Ithaca as an ambition and a great purpose, always there when we are young
Just there, just for the taking, just out of reach, just ahead

Blame not imagined wrongs on the Island; Ithaca has never done anyone wrong
You maybe have failed Ithaca; Ithaca never gave up on you
Don’t blame the wrong song’s tempo that once spurred your footsteps on and on
Don’t blame rough roads you’ve taken or rains on them which fell
They were meant to give you courage, a compass in life pathways through storm
Blame not your hell on earth on Ithaca don’t blame others friend or foe or some neighbor
Perhaps you have let go of your purpose, or never found it at all
.
So if your feet falter, or your gait simply slow down
If the love of your life has departed, should you never have reached the alter at all
If you think your purpose in life has faded, feel your road washed out by the rain
Hold hope in your heart tightly; keep on right to the end of your road
As your days dwindle down, Ithaca will never desert you
She waits for you round the next bend, If not just ahead, then just round the next coming corner
Maybe there, just maybe, some unexpected grand perhaps, awaits.

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