'--Ah, this view
That questions and questions. Have you ever noticed how the
makes our faces death-like. Or how that thief the sun
takes our make-up off each morning? I'd prefer
the sun's warmth without the sun; I'd look for
a sea that doesn't strip one bare: a voiceless blur
without that ill-bred daily interrogation.
The silent caress of the mist in the tassels of dream would
this world isn't ours, it's Homer's--
that's the best description I've heard of this place.'
[Giorgos Seferis, from 'In the Kyrenia District']