But the old mirror that during all the many years / of its existence had looked upon / thousands of objects and faces, / the old mirror was happy now… - Konstantinos P. Cavafy

People of Kommagini, let the glory of Antiochos, the noble king, be celebrated as it deserves. He was a provident ruler of the country. He was just, wise, courageous. In addition he was that best of all things, Hellenic — mankind has no quality more precious: everything beyond that belongs to the gods.

Wymarzone, ukochane głosy
tych, co umarli, albo tych, co dla nas
tak są straceni, jak umarli.

Czasem do nas przemawiają w snach
czasem je w zadumaniu słyszy umysł.

A z ich brzmieniem powraca na chwilę
dźwięki najpierwszej naszego życia poezji,
jak muzyka, która nocą, gdzieś w dali, dogasa.

The god abandons Antony

When at the hour of midnight
an invisible choir is suddenly heard passing
with exquisite music, with voices — Do not lament your fortune that at last subsides,
your life’s work that has failed, your schemes that have proved illusions.
But like a man prepared, like a brave man,
bid farewell to her, to Alexandria who is departing.
Above all, do not delude yourself, do not say that it is a dream,
that your ear was mistaken.
Do not condescend to such empty hopes.
Like a man for long prepared, like a brave man,
like the man who was worthy of such a city,
go to the window firmly,
and listen with emotion
but not with the prayers and complaints of the coward
(Ah! supreme rapture!)
listen to the notes, to the exquisite instruments of the mystic choir,
and bid farewell to her, to Alexandria whom you are losing.