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by admin
For some it is important to meet people, whose spirit can relate to the common one we loved. The Sea. And to be able to express in simple understandable words, descriptions and meanings, for the so-so simple things and life forms that can live and breathe from the sea.
We are next to them, but we are used to being so common that we do not deal with them. We just like the decor they offer. Till there…
And a great thinker, Giorgos Doultsinos, comes so simply to tell us that next to the sea, where we enjoy the sun or the little children build their castles on the sand, there are these “pirates” who have the way to enjoy what we do, to leave and come in their own periodicity, unknown to us but so magical and sublime for them.
I really envy the way this “next door” thinker refers to what we all passed by. The “tamarinds”
Giorgos, thank you for the pleasure you give us to be able to travel mentally with them.
To travel with these Sun reborn Pirates. The tamarinds. Here is how he describes them in his own thoughtful way.
“…Those who are Sun reborn …”
They were pirates. They seem to have lived outside the law, there is no other way to explain it. Hundreds of years ago. But the pirates are killed, and the sea always washes them ashore.
The way it is. Distorted, spooky, scary, raggedy. They went out there, dug their fingernails and toenails into the sand and rooted.
They were reborn to stay close to her. Reborn from the Sun. Now, they try to trick their beloved. To find the opportunity, to put themselves in her arms again.
Deep, final now. Sometimes, entire armies of them. They wait stoically and to atone for their sinful piracy, they do supposedly good deeds.
They cover and protect unsuspecting bathers in the summer with their shade. Who knows what they are thinking when little kids build sandcastles? In front of them they play with their plastic boats…
This is where the season of sun and shadow ends. It is the time when the great wave will burst upon them. He will uproot them, they will drag the wooden leg, he will polish their one good eye, and the parrot on their shoulder will have turned. They will ache the breasts of the sea so fiercely that they will seize them, foaming joy, to barge.
Some afternoon when the sun will have already set, no one will understand anything, and they will be innocent. Their hidden treasure is somewhere over the horizon waiting for them…”