The friend and the enemy

In my flaming head I have a friend and an enemy
and when one talks to me the other refutes him
like two bar habitués under the influence
who start wrangling and fighting, causing a rumpus.

One says I’ll find myself naked in front of everyone
and each one will point with horror at my wounds
and the other says I’ll be following in the devils’ footsteps
discreetly and no one will see me leaving any traces.

One says I need to find the ladder to heaven
and climb up without fear and without looking down
and the other that I should head with far-sightedness
in this world, confident that I’ll win it over.

Thus do they go on sparring and bickering over me
and every time in my head the fire flames up
mercilessly and on leaving they leave behind cinders
in which my mind searches helpless and forlorn.

And yet one is an enemy and the other a friend
I feel it when the sense of both follows me
and one pushes me to the edge of a cliff
and the other seizes me when I confront chaos.

And it’s the only time when I realize
that one is my friend and the other my enemy
it’s those tragic moments I go through life
and a couple of steps ahead lies death.

But I don’t see them and what they tell me to single out mentally
I cannot, because neither enemies nor friends say such things;
but I do know the moment will come when I’ll decide on them
before the night of life falls upon the afternoon’s tranquillity.


Μετάφραση Γιάννης Γκούμας