Everything in the world is lost, she is the only one left.
At her words, the grandchildren carefully gathered,
ὦ, years of fairy tales, innocent beautiful years.
Outside, the snow glistens in the wild breeze
and here in the semi-darkness, around the barbecue
that hides dark embers and dreams rise,
other than the grandchildren happily warms his hands
and another stands by
and all with one soul, with one heart,
they look into the eyes of the grandmother, who begins a fairy tale.
The rocket rests in the fleshless inner hand,
until the long and tireless night begins.
It was, he tells them, once upon a time
a grand city, built of marble,
beautiful as Athens. More jerks and more
and had an old king with wisdom, with knowledge.
And this old king, only his shoots
he had two royal children, two sons so to speak.
The first savage and evil, tyrannized the world,
He did not pity the poor, nor did he defy the lord.
The second kind, brave as he should be,
he knew how to spread graces, bring joy everywhere.
And the first one once said "you don't know the world,
he is heartless, he is cruel and sees all evil.
If you want to be king and if you also want glory,
you must become heartless, cruel like me.
Only fear rules the world and riches".
The second turned and politely replied,
"Fear does not rule him, it temporarily binds him,
it is to say a prison built with briars,
whose door is often and easily opened
and the convict rushes in and drowns his guard.
Put the bridle on him of Divine love,
be the father of a king and not a cruel satrap".
Not to tell you too much, after a year,
the old king died and ascended the throne,
his son the first evil, terror everywhere and horror,
he reigned with the sword drawn from the sheath.
The prisons were full, the lie, the injustice,
the lie, the fraud, the flattery,
whatever evil was found in that dark hour,
it flared up and ravaged that black country.
Until the complaints arrived one day,
if this king will change his mind,
to rule his country by God's law,
she will rise up to dethrone him,
to bring the smallest to rule it.
As if the king heard it, he calls out to his brother
and a monk judges him unjustly and with complaints.
He found him a liar and guilty and without other words,
shut him up in the palace's dark quarters,
to spend his days and nights with bitterness
But injustice lives long and does not last long.
Some great king from another state,
he offended without reason and without any other reason
and takes his scarves and starts and enters,
in the long-suffering, ill-governed country
and in a battle he only wins and decimates
and he seizes the king and makes him a slave.
"And the brother?" asked the grandchildren in unison?
"Now you will see my eyes, it is not over yet."
When the battle had ended and the askeri had been pacified,
the new king sent his daughter to bring,
with gilded horses and with thousands of reasons,
to see the marble buildings, to see the beautiful palaces.
And she ran in that haste to show her joy,
in everything precious that she sees around her.
But when he reached the palace and the dark quarters,
where the king's brother was a year,
she felt sadness in her soul and pain in her heart.
And without thinking about it, without knowing what he has,
she runs to her father's king, pale
and she cries, she cries on her knees with her secret desire
and her royal father "get up", he tells her, "I feel you".
He brought the little brother from the dark quarters
and without longing, without long words,
He says to him: my daughter loved you, I give her to you as a wife
and their weddings took place that same night,
with instruments and drums and with great joy.
And the evil king was brought back again,
together with servants to receive the askeri in their joy
and they lived well and we better than them.
Athena, daughter of heaven, the earth is proud of you. The sun spreads its rays at her feet. The beautiful moon rejoices in your beauty. And your name Athena has become a song.
Αθήνα κόρη του ουρανού η γη σε καμαρώνει. Ο ήλιος της ακτίνες του στα πόδια της απλώνει. Και η ομορφιά σου χαίρετε και η όμορφη σελήνια. Και το όνομα σου Αθήνα μου τραγούδι έχει γίνει.
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