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The Town

You said: “I’ll go to another land, to other seaways wandering,

Some other town may yet be found better than this,

Where every effort of mine is a writ of guiltiness;

And my heart seems buried like a corpse. My mind—-

How long is it to be in this decay confined?

Wherever I turn, wherever I lift my eyes,

The blackening ruins of my life arise,

here I have spent so many years spoiling and swquandering

by Constantine P Cavafy

Che Fece Il Gran Rifiuto

For some people the day comes

when they have to declare the great Yes

or the great No. It's clear at once who has the Yes

ready within him; and saying it,

he goes from honor to honor, strong in his conviction.

He who refuses does not repent. Asked again,

he'd still say no. Yet that no-the right no-

drags him down all his life.

by Constantine P Cavafy

Morning Sea

Let me stop here. Let me, too, look at nature awhile.

The brilliant blue of the morning sea, of the cloudless sky,

the yellow shore; all lovely,

all bathed in light.

Let me stand here. And let me pretend I see all this

(I really did see it for a minute when I first stopped)

and not my usual day-dreams here too,

my memories, those images of sensual pleasure.

by Constantine P Cavafy

Manuel Komninos

One dreary September day

Emperor Manuel Komninos

felt his death was near.

The court astrologers -bribed, of course- went on babbling

about how many years he still had to live.

But while they were having their say,

he remembered an old religious custom

and ordered ecclesiastic al vestments

by Constantine P Cavafy

He Swears

He swears from time to time to

Begin a better life

Whenever though the night comes

With its own counsellings

With its own compromises

And its own undertakings;

But whenever the night comes

by Constantine P Cavafy

Far Off

I should like to relate this memory…

but it is so faded now… scarcely anything is left —

because it lies far off, in the years of my early manhood.

A skin as if made of jasmine…

that night in August — was it August? — that night…

I can just barely remember the eyes; they were, I think, blue…

Ah yes, blue; a sapphire blue.

by Constantine P Cavafy

Addition

I do not question whether I am happy or unhappy.

Yet there is one thing that I keep gladly in mind —

that in the great addition (their addition that I abhor)

that has so many numbers, I am not one

of the many units there. In the final sum

I have not been calculated. And this joy suffices me.

Original Greek:

Πρόσθεσις

by Constantine P Cavafy

Of The Shop

He wrapped them carefully, neatly

in costly green silk.

Roses of ruby, lilies of pearl,

violets of amethyst. As he himself judged,

as he wanted them, they look beautiful to him; not as he saw

or studied them in nature. He will leave them in the safe,

a sample of his daring and skillful craft.

When a buyer enters the shop

by Constantine P Cavafy

Ithaka

As you set out for Ithaka

hope your road is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonia ns, Cyclops,

angry Poseidon-don 't be afraid of them:

you'll never find things like that on your way

as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,

as long as a rare excitement

by Constantine P Cavafy

As much as you can

And if you can't shape your life the way you want,

at least try as much as you can

not to degrade it

by too much contact with the world,

by too much activity and talk.

Try not to degrade it by dragging it along,

taking it around and exposing it so often

to the daily silliness

by Constantine P Cavafy

He vows

Every so often he vows to start a better life.

But when night comes with her own counsels,

with her compromises, and with her promises;

but when night comes with her own power

of the body that wants and demands, he returns,

forlorn, to the same fatal joy.

Original Greek:

Ομνύει

by Constantine P Cavafy

Monotony

One monotonous day is followed

by another monotonous, identical day. The same

things will happen, they will happen again —

the same moments find us and leave us.

A month passes and ushers in another month.

One easily guesses the coming events;

they are the boring ones of yesterday.

And the morrow ends up not resembling a morrow anymore.

by Constantine P Cavafy