Translation:The High Mountains/5

by Zacharias Papantoniou

The Song of Uncle Fotis

“Hey Uncle Fotis! won't you sing us a song? “ asked Mr Stephan.

Old Fotis gave a smile.

“One that speaks of high mountains” added Mr Stephan.

“Like what?” asked the mule-driver.

The time passed and they were kept waiting for their song. He was thinking: “Shall I choose The Doe? Or rather Robin Hood? The Little Vlach? Or even....”

Finally he decided. “I am old now”, he said “but I'm going to sing for Mr Stephan”.

And after having raised his gourd and drunk two mouthfuls, he began:

Happy are the mountains that grow not old
In summer all green and in winter snowed over
They wait for the spring, and sweet summer clover
The sun buds the branches, green trees unfold
This brings out the herds and the young Vlachs
playing their flutes

The song doesn't grow old! Old Fotis has aged but his voice has stayed light as in his youth. If only that front tooth hadn't been missing!