Katerina Anghelaki-Rooke: Hatred

My mirror, I'm talking to you, it is you in front of me, no one else. People, friends, they are lost. Are they lost from life or is it the meaning they were finding in me that's lost? You are looking at me, I am looking at you, a youthful face I am trying to recall, that was never beautiful, but always expressive of the moment, only the moment. I was ignoring you then and I was running around, the panting body that was left to me - crippled from the start - I wanted to exploit, to enjoy it, give myself to the air, to the sea, to impartial love. My girlfriends with their perfect bodies shining in the sun I was never jealous of never felt that people had deprived me of something I owned. And now the hour to confess has come. My little mirror, I always have you in front of me to get accustomed to you: I hate you. Will you forgive me?

I never knew what hatred was. But now, see, looking at my face enrages me against nature. Deep inside me of course, I know that my enemy isn't you, it's time. But time remains elusive because his sins are always suspended and he still dominates my life. My mirror, you too are a victim of human absurdity. I thank you for standing by me, allowing me to hate you.

Translated from the Greek by Dimitris Zacharakis