I was born in
a small mountainous village of Greece on a cold night of
January , back in 1955 . I grew up in the damp city of Patras
, Brought up with all available "luxuries", within a post
civil war atmosphere .
I dreamed, I loved, I fought, I
sought, I sang, I sighed Normal things for someone of my age .
So , there is nothing
enigmatic about my life. But rather exploit a W.H.Auden's
poem as a biography :
life will give you all the facts :
How Father beat him, how he run away,
What were the struggles of his youth, what acts
Made him the greatest figure of his day :
Of how he fought, fished, hunted worked all night
Though giddy, climbed new mountains ; named
Some of the last researchers even write
Love made him weep his pints like you and me .
With all his honors
on, he sighed for one
Who, say astonished critics, lived at home ;
Did little jobs about the house with skill
And nothing else; could whistle; would sit still
Or potter around the garden; answered some
Of his long marvelous letters but kept none .