#c. p. cavafy

[havingapoemwithyou]

the city by C. P. Cavafy

[saintsebastiensbf]

C. P. Cavafy, The Windows

[psikonauti]

David Hockney (British, b. 1937)

Portrait of Cavafy in Alexandria, 1966

Etching and aquatint on paper

[quotesengage]

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

of social events and parties,

until it comes to seem a boring hanger-on.

C. P. Cavafy

[gwydionmisha]

In Despair - C. P. Cavafy

He lost him completely. And he now tries to find his lips in the lips of each new lover, he tries in the union with each new lover to convince himself that it’s the same young man, that it’s to him he gives himself. He lost him completely, as though he never existed. He wanted, his lover said, to save himself from the tainted, unhealthy form of sexual pleasure, the tainted, shameful form of sexual pleasure. There was still time, he said, to save himself. He lost him completely, as though he never existed. Through fantasy, through hallucination, he tries to find his lips in the lips of other young men, he longs to feel his kind of love once more.  

[insilverrolled]

The City

By C.P. Cavafy; Translated by Edmund Keeley [x]

You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore, find another city better than this one. Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong and my heart lies buried like something dead. How long can I let my mind moulder in this place? Wherever I turn, wherever I look, I see the black ruins of my life, here, where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”

You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore. This city will always pursue you. You’ll walk the same streets, grow old in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses. You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere: there’s no ship for you, there’s no road. Now that you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner, you’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world.

[poems-from-around-the-world]

As Much As You Can - C.P. Cavafy - Greece

Translator: Edmund Keeley, Philip Sherrard (Greek)

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 of social events and parties, until it comes to seem a boring hanger-on.

[luvetlux]

Laurie Anderson's Mind-Blowing Performance of 'Waiting for the Barbarians'

Laurie Anderson and more come together in a concert of new works inspired by poet C. P. Cavafy. Filmed at the Saint Thomas Church in New York City, the performance is commissioned by the Onassis Foundation.

[stanestreet]

C. P. Cavafy, “The God Forsakes Antony” (trans. Rae Dalven)

[sumpix]

Ithaka

By C. P. Cavafy. Translated By Edmund Keeley

As you set out for Ithaka hope your road is a long one, full of adventure, full of discovery. Laistrygonians, 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 stirs your spirit and your body. Laistrygonians, Cyclops, wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them unless you bring them along inside your soul, unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one. May there be many summer mornings when, with what pleasure, what joy, you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time; may you stop at Phoenician trading stations to buy fine things, mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony, sensual perfume of every kind— as many sensual perfumes as you can; and may you visit many Egyptian cities to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind. Arriving there is what you’re destined for. But don’t hurry the journey at all. Better if it lasts for years, so you’re old by the time you reach the island, wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way, not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey. Without her you wouldn't have set out. She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you. Wise as you will have become, so full of experience, you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

[saintsebastiensbf]

C. P. Cavafy, Walls

[engkanto-chanticleer]

The city where you grow up will always find you. The home that shapes you follows you wherever you are.

[chantssecrets]

[quotesengage]

Ithaka

BY C. P. CAVAFY

As you set out for Ithaka

hope your road is a long one,

full of adventure, full of discovery.

Laistrygonians, 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

stirs your spirit and your body.

Laistrygonians, Cyclops,

wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them

unless you bring them along inside your soul,

unless your soul sets them up in front of you.

Hope your road is a long one.

May there be many summer mornings when,

with what pleasure, what joy,

you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;

may you stop at Phoenician trading stations

to buy fine things,

mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

sensual perfume of every kind—

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

and may you visit many Egyptian cities

to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Keep Ithaka always in your mind.

Arriving there is what you’re destined for.

But don’t hurry the journey at all.

Better if it lasts for years,

so you’re old by the time you reach the island,

wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,

not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.

Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.

Without her you wouldn't have set out.

She has nothing left to give you now.

And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.

Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,

you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.

[conundrumoftime]

Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost

I love it when bits of stories turn up in other stories, told in different ways, and this is the most beautiful example of that I know, from Plutarch to Cavafy to Leonard Cohen and Sharon Robinson.

Starting off somewhere around 100 CE with Plutarch, telling the story of Antony in the city of Alexandria on the eve of the attack from Octavian's army, hearing a processing of music and dancers making their way through the streets at night and understanding it as his protector and patron Bacchus abandoning him:

And at supper, we are told, he bade the slaves pour out for him and feast him more generously; for it was uncertain, he said, whether they would be doing this on the morrow, or whether they would be serving other masters, while he himself would be lying dead, a mummy and a nothing. Then, seeing that his friends were weeping at these words, he declared that he would not lead them out to battle, since from it he sought an honourable death for himself rather than safety and victory. During this night, it is said, about the middle of it, while the city was quiet and depressed through fear and expectation of what was coming, suddenly certain harmonious sounds from all sorts of instruments were heard, and the shouting of a throng, accompanied by cries of Bacchic revelry and satyric leapings, as if a troop of revellers, making a great tumult, were going forth from the city; and their course seemed to lie about through the middle of the city toward the outer gate which faced the enemy, at which point the tumult became loudest and then dashed out. Those who sought the meaning of the sign were of the opinion that the god to whom Antony always most likened and attached himself was now deserting him.

Then in 1911, Constantin Cavafy's poem 'The God Abandons Antony', where the right thing to do in the face of imminent loss is to go bravely to the window and 'listen - your final pleasure - to the voices [...] say goodbye to the Alexandria you are losing':

The God Abandons Antony At midnight, when suddenly you hear an invisible procession going by with exquisite music, voices, don't mourn your luck that's failing now, work gone wrong, your plans all proving deceptive — don't mourn them uselessly: as one long prepared, and full of courage, say goodbye to her, to Alexandria who is leaving. Above all, don't fool yourself, don't say it was a dream, your ears deceived you; don't degrade yourself with empty hopes like these. As one long prepared, and full of courage, as is right for you who were given this kind of city, go firmly to the window and listen with deep emotion, but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward; listen - your final pleasure - to the voices, to the exquisite music of that strange procession, and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing.

Then Leonard Cohen rewrote this into a song with Sharon Robinson, turning 'Alexandria' into 'Alexandra', as the figure of a woman; she's leaving at the head of a procession carried the shoulder on the god of love, and you, "who had the honour of her evening, and by that honour had your own restored", should go to the window and say goodbye.

Alexandra Leaving Suddenly the night has grown colder. The god of love preparing to depart. Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder, They slip between the sentries of the heart. Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure, They gain the light, they formlessly entwine; And radiant beyond your widest measure They fall among the voices and the wine. It's not a trick, your senses all deceiving, A fitful dream, the morning will exhaust, Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving, Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost. Even though she sleeps upon your satin; Even though she wakes you with a kiss. Do not say the moment was imagined; Do not stoop to strategies like this. As someone long prepared for this to happen, Go firmly to the window. Drink it in. Exquisite music. Alexandra laughing. Your first commitments tangible again. And you who had the honour of her evening, And by the honour had your own restored, Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving; Alexandra leaving with her lord. Even though she sleeps upon your satin; Even though she wakes you with a kiss. Do not say the moment was imagined; Do not stoop to strategies like this. As someone long prepared for the occasion, In full command of every plan you wrecked, Do not choose a coward's explanation that hides behind the cause and the effect. And you who were bewildered by a meaning, Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed, Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving, Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost. Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving, Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

[cmacaulays]

c.p. cavafy, the first step