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Pelion Pilion, Greece Real Estate House, Property & Land, home, cottage, rent, holiday rental |
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Pelion Holidays Alernative Customised Holidays |
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Picture of the Month |
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Pictures of past Months |
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My new home, Pelion. I was born here, Maybe in a small shed next to an olive bark. Or on one of the green slopes by the chestnut forest, I was raised here, running on the last tired trust of the waves, against the gathering of the broken shelves, or on the peak of the snow caped hill which is earliest to wake every day, to the first rays of the sun coming through the horizon I was born and raised here, it must have been that way…. Because the green of the forest is the greenest I know, It must have been the first green I learnt. .. I was raised here Because the blue of the sea is the deepest blue to me. The lush valley, Must be my mother! Because in her arms I felt the power to rise and the power to stop, and think and wonder, The thunder of Pelion’s creeks must be the voice of my father, Because in their every gentle drop, there is the will to crush the rocks, and always go on! My first cry , my first tears, must have been here, because all around me is scented with my passions. The first words that I said,
because the first words I said, I must have said them here, I was raised next to my neighbors, who work in the hills, in their fields all year and come home one evening every year with their gifts from the mountain, With their basket full of apples, with their basket full of nuts, with their basket full of hope, for the next year. The first time I fell in love, I don’t know, but it must have been here, maybe she hid our love in the ever green groves, or the apple groves, perhaps she locked it in a stone room or just left it on the beach, she hid our love somewhere in Pelion, maybe in a shell decorated with her tear. My first sorrow must have been here, leaving the hills, the creeks and the valley that to me they are so dear, The mighty mountain gives me the power not remember, that my very first fear was also rooted in here. The passion of the flowers, the wonder of the birds, the hope in every sun rise and the promise of all the blossoms, I must have known them all, the last time I was here. My first dream, it must have been here, I must have dreamt to be here, My first dream that came true, came true here, because finally, for the first time, I find myself here.
Pelion Poem Faris Nejad, Volos Feb.’06 |