|Harriet Monroe, ed. (18601936). Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. 191222.|
|The Red Fish|
|By Eunice Tietjens, trans.|
From Modern Greek Popular Songs
From Antonin Prousts French version
I KISSED her red lips; they dyed my own.
|I wiped them with a kerchief, and the kerchief was dyed. I washed the kerchief in the stream and the shores of the stream were dyed; the waves of the sea kissed the shores of the stream, and the sea grew red.|
|That is why the little fish are grown red also; that is why, when I see them flickering, I think of Photini of the red lips.|