(translated from the Greek of Andreas Kalvos for Stella, one of my favourite students)
Let those who feel
the heavy brazen hand of fear
freedom needs virtue,
This (for myth may veil
the spirit of truth) lent wings
to Icarus – and though he fell,
the wingèd one and drowned
beneath the waves,
he fell from on high
and died free. Should you
die like a sheep, dishonoured,
at the hands of a tyrant,
your grave will be an abomination.
Why is this poem of particular significance to me? Because for so many years I lived like a sheep, dishonoured, at the hands of tyrants; when when my time comes may I too die free, back where I belong, beneath the waves.