The Cavafy Archive

quoted by wiki ;
Constantine P. Cavafy, also known as Konstantin or Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis, or Kavaphes (Greek Κωνσταντίνος Π. Καβάφης) (April 29, 1863–April 29, 1933) was a renowned modern Greek poet who lived in Alexandria and worked as a journalist and civil servant. His poetry is mainly inspired by the Hellenistic era with Alexandria at primary focus. Other poems originate from Helleno-romaic antiquity and the Byzantine era. Mythological references are also present. The periods chosen are mostly of decline and decadence (eg Trojans); his heroes facing the final end.

this is a link to the Cavafy Archive Website containing translations of all his major works complete with essays , bios etc ... http://www.kavafis.com/index.asp

these are two of my favourite poems of his-just to take a glimpse of his art ...

Awaiting the Barbarians

— Why are we come together in the market place?

Barbarians are expected here to-day.

— Why in the Senate-house this inactivity —
why sit the Senators and do not legislate?

Because barbarians are to come to-day
What laws should they make now — the Senators?
Presently the barbarians will make laws.

— Why has our Emperor risen close upon the sun —
why is he waiting there, by the main city-gates,
seated upon the throne, — august, wearing the crown?

Because barbarians are to come to-day
And so the Emperor in person waits
to greet their leader. He has even prepared
a title-deed, on skin of Pergamus,
in favour of this leader. It confers
high rank on the barbarian, many names.

— Why do our consuls and the praetors go about
in scarlet togas fretted with embroidery;
why are they wearing bracelets rife with amethysts,
and rings magnificent with glowing emeralds;
why are they holding those invaluable staffs
inlaid so cunningly with silver and with gold?

Because barbarians are to come to-day;
and the barbarians marvel at such things.

— Why come not, as they use, our able orators
to hold forth in their rhetoric, to have their say?

Because barbarians are to come to-day;
and the barbarians have no taste for words.

— Why this confusion all at once, and nervousness:
(how serious of a sudden the faces have become):
why are the streets and meeting-places emptying,
and all the people lost in thought as they turn home?

Because the daylight fails, and the night comes,
but the barbarians come not. And there be
who from the frontier have arrived and said
that there are barbarians now at all.

And now what shall become of us without barbarians?
These people were in sooth some sort of settlement.
Translated by John Cavafy[/I]




Demetrius Soter (B.C. 162-150)

All his plans have failed!

He thought he could accomplish great deeds,
that he would end the humiliation that oppressed
his country from the time of the battle of Magnesia.
Syria would become a powerful state again—
with her armies, with her fleets,
with her strong fortresses, with her riches.

At Rome, he suffered, he was embittered
when he noticed in conversation with his friends,
the young men of the noble houses,—
in spite of all the courtesy and the tact
which they showed to him, the son
of king Seleucus Philopator—
when he noticed that there was always
a veiled disesteem for the Hellenistic dynasties,
which had declined, which were not for serious things,
which were wholly unsuited for the government of nations.
Indignant, he used to draw aside, and vow
that things would not be as they thought;
he, at least, had a will;
he would struggle, he would achieve, he would uphold.

If only he could find his way to the East,
if he could effect his escape from Italy—
he would impart to the people
all the strength that he carried
in his soul, all the enthusiasm.
Could he but find himself in Syria!
He had left his country so young
that he remembered only faintly its features.
But it was always present in his thoughts
as something sacred to be approached with reverence,
as a picture of a most beautiful land, as a mirage
of Greek cities and harbours.—

And now?
Now is despair and lamentation.
The boys at Rome were right.
It is not possible to sustain the dynasties
that arose from the Macedonian conquest.

But it does not matter:
he fought as long as he could.
And in his black despair
he reckons only one thing
with pride: that even in his misfortune
he shows the same indomitable courage before all the world!

For the rest —it was a dream and vain endeavour.
The Syria —she almost seems not to be his country,
she is the land of Heraclides and Bala.


Translated by George Valassopoulo