Walls Without reflection, without mercy, without shame, they built strong walls and high, and compassed me about. And now I sit here and consider a… - Konstantinos P. Cavafy

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Walls

Without reflection, without mercy, without shame,
they built strong walls and high, and compassed me about.

And now I sit here and consider and despair.

My brain is worn with meditating on my fate:
I had outside so many things to terminate.

Oh! why when they were building did I not beware!

But never a sound of building, never an echo came.
Out of the world, insensibly, they shut me out.

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About Konstantinos P. Cavafy

Constantine P. Cavafy, also known as Konstantin or Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis, or Kavaphes (Greek Κωνσταντίνος Π. Καβάφης) (29 April 1863 – 29 April 1933) was a Greek poet who is often ranked among most important literary figures of the 20th century.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Native Name: Κωνσταντίνος Πέτρου Καβάφης
Alternative Names: Constantine kavafy C. P. Cavafis Constantin Cavafy K. P. Kavaphēs K. P. Kavafis C. P. Cavafy Konstantine Kavafy Constantinos Cavafis Konstantino Kavafis Constantino Kavafis Konstantin Kavafis Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis Kōnstantinos Petrou Kavaphēs Kavafis Kōnstantinos Petrou Kabaphēs Kawafis Konstandinos Kavafis Konstantinas Kavafis C.P. Cavafy Constantine Peter Cavafy Kōnstantinos P. Kavafīs
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Additional quotes by Konstantinos P. Cavafy

"In these dark rooms I pass
such listless days, I wander up and down
looking for the windows - when a window opens
there will be some relief.
But there are no windows, or at least
I cannot find them. And perhaps it's just as well.
Perhaps the light would prove another torment.
Who knows what new things it would reveal?

("The Windows")"

Morning Sea Let me stop right here. Let me, too, have a look at nature:
the morning sea and the cloudless sky,
both a luminous blue, the yellow shore, all of it
beautiful, and in such magnificent light. Let me stop right here. Let me pretend this is actually
what I’m seeing (I really did see it, when I first stopped)
and not, here too, more of those fantasies of mine,
more of those memories, those voluptuous illusions.

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As the shores of Ithaca gradually Faded away behind him And he sailed swiftly westward Toward Iberia and the Pillars of Hercules, Far from every Achaean sea, He felt he was alive once more, Freed from the oppressive bonds Of familiar, domestic things. And his adventurous heart rejoiced Coldly, devoid of love.

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