Constantine Cavafy

Of Demetrius Soter (162—150 B.C.)
All his expectations turned out wrong!
He imagined that he would do famous deeds,
that he would stop the humiliation
that oppressed his homeland since the Battle of Magnesia,
that Syria would become a strong nation,
with her armies, with her fleets,
with great castles and great wealth.
He suffered, and he felt bitterness in Rome
when he sensed in his friends’ talk,
the youth of great houses,
in all the politeness and refinement
they showed him the son
of King Seleucus Philopator
as he sensed that there was always a secret
indifference toward the Hellenized dynasties,
they had declined; they were not destined for serious works,
were not suitable to lead the people.
He went off on his own, outraged, and swore
that it was not at all the way they thought.
Look, he had the drive,
he would act, fight, and succeed.
If he could only find a way to reach Anatolia,
to manage his escape from Italy,
all this strength that he carries
in his soul, all this ardour
he would pass on to the people.
Ah, if he could only reach Syria!
He left his homeland at such a young age
he hardly remembers its face.
But in his mind, he always thought of it
as something sacred, which you approach on your knees,
as the vision of a beautiful place, a vision
of Hellenic cities and ports.
And now?
Now despair and grief.
The young men in Rome were right.
It is impossible. The dynasties that arose
from the Macedonian Conquest can’t survive.
Irrelevant: he tried,
he fought as much as he could.
And in his dark disappointment,
he thinks of only one thing
with pride; that, even in failure,
he showed the world the same invincible bravery.
The rest were dreams and futile efforts.
This Syria hardly looks like his homeland,
it is the land of Heracleides and Valas.

https://draft2digital.com/book/3562856

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1926763823

Constantine Cavafy – Poems

Orophernis
He whose handsome,
delicate face seems to be smiling
on the four drachmas coin,
he is Orophernis son of Ariarathis.
As a child they ousted him from Cappadocia,
out of his father’s magnificent palace
and sent him to grow up
in Ionia, to be forgotten among strangers.
Oh, those beautiful Ionian nights
when fearlessly, and clearly in a Hellenic way
he got to know the fullness of carnal pleasure.
In his heart, always an Asian;
but in his manners and in his speech Greek,
dressed up in turquoise, in Greek chiton
his body fragrant with jasmine,
among the handsome Ionian youths,
the most handsome, the most ideal.
Later when the Syrians entered
Cappadocia, and made him a king
he dedicated himself and his monarchy
to enjoying in a new pleasure everyday,
to greedily gather gold and silver,
and to delight, and to boast,
watching his riches piling and shining.
As for the care of the place, and governing—
he had no idea what was happening around him
The Cappadocians quickly removed him;
and he ended up in Syria, in the palace
of Demetrios, where he lazed around partying.
One day, though, his great idleness was
interrupted by unusual thoughts;
he remembered that from his mother Antiochida
and from the old Stratoniki
he was connected to the crown
of Syria, almost a Seleucid.
For a while he got out of the lust and drunkenness,
and ineptly, and half dazed
he felt a longing to scheme something,
to do something, to plan something,
but he failed miserably, and got worn out.
His end was written somewhere but got lost;
or perhaps history passed it by,
and rightfully so, not bothering
to record such a paltry event.
He who on the four drachmas coin
left the charm of his beautiful youth,
the light of his youthful beauty,
an aesthetic memory of that Ionian boy,
is Orophernis, son of Ariarathis.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1723961833