Constantine P. Cavafy: Poems in English

– Konstantinoupolis (1863 – 1933)
The English versions of Cavafy’s poems are taken from
Constantine P. Cavafy – Poems by Manolis
(Libros Libertad, Surrey 2008).

View ‘Constantine P. Cavafy: Biographical Note’
View these poems in Greek original

1. Voices
2. Candles
3. Thermopylae
4. Waiting For The Barbarians
5. The City
6. Ithaca
7. As Much As You Can
Translator’s Note

VOICES

Ideal and beloved voices
of the dead or those who
for us are lost like the dead.

At times they talk in our dreams;
at times our minds hear them when in thought.

And with their sound, for a moment, echoes
return from the first poetry of our lives—
like distant music, at night, that slowly fades away.

CANDLES

The days of the future stand in front of us
like a line of lit candles—
golden, warm, and lively little candles.

The days of the past remain behind,
a sorrowful line of burned out candles;
the closest ones are still smoking,
cold candles, melted, and drooping.

I don’t want to look at them; their shape saddens me,
and it saddens me to remember their previous light.
I look ahead at my lit candles.

I don’t want to look back and see in horror
how fast the dark line lengthens,
how quickly the burned out candles multiply.

THERMOPYLAE

Honor to those who in their lives
are committed to guard Thermopylae.
Never swerving from duty;
just and exact in all their actions,
but tolerant too, and compassionate;
gallant when rich, and when
they are poor, again a little gallant,
again assisting as much as they can;
Always speaking the truth,
but without hatred for those who lie.

And more honor is due to them
when they foresee (and many do foresee)
that Ephialtis will appear in the end
and the Medes will break through at last.

WAITING FOR THE BARBARIANS

—What are we waiting for, gathered in the agora?

The barbarians are to arrive today.

—Why such inactivity in the Senate?
Why do the senators sit and pass no laws?

Because the barbarians will arrive today.
What laws should the senators pass?
When the barbarians come they will pass laws.

—Why did our emperor wake so early,
and sit by the city’s main gate
on the throne, officially, wearing his crown?

Because the barbarians will arrive today.
And the emperor is waiting to receive
their leader. In fact, he’s prepared
a declaration for him. In it he wrote
a lot of titles and honorable names.

—Why have our praetors and two councils come out
today in their red, embroidered togas?
Why do they wear bracelets with so many amethysts,
and rings with richly glittering emeralds;
why are they carrying expensive canes
superbly decorated in silver and gold?

Because the barbarians will arrive today;
and such things dazzle the barbarians.

—Why don’t the famous orators come as usual
to make their speeches and have their say?

Because the barbarians will arrive today;
and they are bored by eloquent oratory.

—Why have this sudden anxiety and confusion?
(The faces, how solemn they have become).
Why do the streets and the plazas empty so quickly,
Why is everyone returning home deep in thought?

Because night is here and the barbarians have not arrived.
A few travelers, just in from the borders,
say the barbarians no longer exist.

And what will become of us without them?
Those people were a kind of solution.

THE CITY

You said: “I’ll go to another land, to another sea;
I’ll find another city better than this one.
Every effort I make is ill-fated, doomed;
and my heart —like a dead thing—lies buried.
How long will my mind continue to wither like this?
Everywhere I turn my eyes, wherever they happen to fall
I see the black ruins of my life, here
where I’ve squandered, wasted and ruined so many years.”

New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will return to the same streets.
You will age in the same neighborhoods; and in these
same houses you will turn gray. You will always
arrive in the same city. Don’t even hope to escape it,
there is no ship for you, no road out of town.
As you have wasted your life here, in this small corner
you’ve wasted it in the whole world.

ITHAKA

When you start on your way to Ithaka,
pray that your journey will be long,
full of adventures, full of knowledge.
Do not fear The Lestrygonyans,
the Cyclopes, or the angry Poseidon,
you will never run into things like that,
if your thoughts are kept high, if a clear,
excitement moves your body and your spirit.
You will never meet the Lestrygonians
or the Cyclops or the angry Poseidon
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raises them up in front of you.

Pray that the way is long.
Let the summer mornings be many
when you will enter with such pleasure, such joy,
harbors you have never seen before;
may you stop at Phoenician markets,
to buy their fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and pleasurable perfumes of every kind,
as many as you can get;
and may you visit a lot of Egyptian cities,
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.

Always maintain Ithaka in your mind.
Arrival there is your destiny.
But don’t hurry the trip at all.
Let it last for many years;
and when you reach the island and you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
do not expect any further riches from Ithaka.

Ithaca gave you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would never have started your journey.
She has nothing else to give you.

And if you find Ithaca poor, Ithaka has not tricked you.
You have become such a wise person, with so much experience,
you have already understood what Ithakas mean.

AS MUCH AS YOU CAN

And if you can not lead your life the way you want it,
at least try this
as much as you can: do not degrade it
in a crowded relationship with the world,
in too many things and too much talk.

Do not degrade it by showing it around,
dragging it along and exposing it
to the daily nonsense
of relationships and associations
until it is strange to you and a burden.

Translator’s Note
From ‘Constantine P. Cavafy – Poems’ by Manolis
View these poems in Greek original

The literary magazine Quill and Quire, issue of April 2008, states: “The moment you translate something as a Canadian, because you are interpreting it into English as spoken in Canada, and it is informed by the imagery and culture of the target language, it becomes a work of Canadian literature.” This is such a book written by one of the most celebrated Greek poets, C.P.Cavafy, translated by a Greek-Canadian writer Manolis and edited by George Amabile.

Although this translation is based almost entirely on the thirteenth edition of Kavafis— Collected Poems published by Ikaros, Athens, 1980, and although that edition is called Collected Poems (the Greek word used is «άπαντα»–‘apanda’ which means collected), we don’t call ours “Collected Poems” because there are a lot of other poems written by Cavafy between 1882—1932, some of which we found included only in the expanded edition published by Rae Dalven of 1976. Ikaros also published the “Unpublished Poems” of C.P. Cavafy in Athens in 1977.

We followed the format and sequence of poems in the “Ikaros” edition except for the shifting of sixteen poems written between 1896-1905 which we placed at the beginning of this translation unlike the edition by “Ikaros” where these poems were placed at the end of their volume.

Reference is made to the literary magazine of his era, New Protoporoi which devoted an article to Cavafy’s poetry; also to commentaries written by S. Tsirkas and Gr. Xenopoulos who analyzed and discussed Cavafy’s works from their point of view; reference is also made to the newspapers Vima, Nea and Kathimerini where N. Vagenas, H. Houzouri and S. Moskovou contributed articles about the poet. Last but not least reference is made to the commentary and notes by George Savidis in the thirteenth Ikaros edition the format of which we have followed in this translation.

The historical names were transliterated in no particular way; the most well known names internationally were left with their Latin transliterations as in: Constantinople instead of the Greek Konstantinoupolis; all the other lesser known names are presented sometimes in their Latin appearance and at other times in their Greek format based on what seemed visually appropriate.

From To Constantine P. Cavafy – Poems by Manolis (Libros Libertad, Surrey 2008)

View ‘Constantine P. Cavafy: Biographical Note’
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