The Complete Poems of C.P. Cavafy - Daniel Mendelsohn

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       The God Abandons Antony

      When suddenly, at midnight, there comes the sound

      of an invisible procession passing by

      with exquisite music playing, with voices raised—

      your good fortune, which now gives way; all your efforts’

      ill-starred outcome; the plans you made for life,

      which turned out wrong: don’t mourn them uselessly.

      Like one who’s long prepared, like someone brave,

      bid farewell to her, to Alexandria, who is leaving.

      Above all do not fool yourself, don’t say

      that it was a dream, that your ears deceived you;

      don’t stoop to futile hopes like these.

      Like one who’s long prepared, like someone brave,

      as befits a man who’s been blessed with a city like this,

      go without faltering toward the window

      and listen with deep emotion, but not

      with the entreaties and the whining of a coward,

      to the sounds—a final entertainment—

      to the exquisite instruments of that initiate crew,

      and bid farewell to her, to Alexandria, whom you are losing.

      [1910; 1911]

       Theodotus

      If you are among the truly elect,

      watch how you achieve your predominance.

      However much you’re glorified, however much

      your accomplishments in Italy and Thessaly

      are blazoned far and wide by governments,

      however many honorary decrees

      are bestowed on you in Rome by your admirers,

      neither your elation nor your triumph will endure,

      nor will you feel superior—superior how?—

      when, in Alexandria, Theodotus brings you,

      upon a charger that’s been stained with blood,

      poor wretched Pompey’s head.

      And do not take it for granted that in your life,

      restricted, regimented, and mundane,

      such spectacular and terrifying things don’t exist.

      Maybe at this very moment, into some neighbor’s

      nicely tidied house there comes—

      invisible, immaterial—Theodotus,

      bringing one such terrifying head.

      [<1911; 1915]

       Monotony

      On one monotone day one more

      monotone, indistinct day follows. The same

      things will happen, then again recur—

      identical moments find us, then go their way.

      One month passes bringing one month more.

      What comes next is easy enough to know:

      the boredom from the day before.

      And tomorrow’s got to where it seems like no tomorrow.

      [1898; 1908]

       Ithaca

      As you set out on the way to Ithaca

      hope that the road is a long one,

      filled with adventures, filled with discoveries.

      The Laestrygonians and the Cyclopes,

      Poseidon in his anger: do not fear them,

      you won’t find such things on your way

      so long as your thoughts remain lofty, and a choice

      emotion touches your spirit and your body.

      The Laestrygonians and the Cyclopes,

      savage Poseidon; you won’t encounter them

      unless you stow them away inside your soul,

      unless your soul sets them up before you.

      Hope that the road is a long one.

      Many may the summer mornings be

      when—with what pleasure, with what joy—

      you first put in to harbors new to your eyes;

      may you stop at Phoenician trading posts

      and there acquire the finest wares:

      mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

      and heady perfumes of every kind:

      as many heady perfumes as you can.

      Many Egyptian cities may you visit

      that you may learn, and go on learning, from their sages.

      Always in your mind keep Ithaca.

      To arrive there is your destiny.

      But do not hurry your trip in any way.

      Better that it last for many years;

      that you drop anchor at the island an old man,

      rich with all you’ve gotten on the way,

      not expecting Ithaca to make you rich.

      Ithaca gave you the beautiful journey;

      without her you wouldn’t have set upon the road.

      But now she has nothing left to give you.

      And if you find her poor, Ithaca ­didn’t deceive you.

      As wise as you will have become, with so much experience,

      you will understand, by then, these Ithacas; what they mean.

      [1910; 1911]

       As Much As You Can

      And even if you cannot make your life the way you want it,

      this much, at least, try to do

      as much as you can: don’t cheapen it

      with too much intercourse with society,

      with too much movement and conversation.

      Don’t cheapen it by taking it about,

      making the rounds with it, exposing it

      to the everyday inanity

      of relations and connections,

      so it becomes like a stranger, burdensome.

      [1905; 1913]

       Trojans

      Our efforts, those of the ill-fortuned;

      our efforts are the efforts of the Trojans.

      We will make a bit of progress; we will start

      to pick ourselves

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