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Speak not of guilt, speak not of responsibility. When the Regiment of the Senses parades by, with music, and with banners; when the senses shiver and… - Konstantinos P. Cavafy
" "Speak not of guilt, speak not of responsibility. When the Regiment of the Senses parades by, with music, and with banners; when the senses shiver and shudder, it is only a fool and and an irreverent person that will keep his distance, who will not embrace the good cause, marching towards the conquest of pleasures and passions. All of morality’s laws – poorly understood and applied – are nil and cannot stand even for a moment, when the Regiment of the Senses parades by, with music, and with banners.
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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
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C. P. Cavafis
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Constantin Cavafy
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K. P. Kavaphēs
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K. P. Kavafis
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C. P. Cavafy
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Konstantine Kavafy
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Constantinos Cavafis
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Konstantino Kavafis
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Constantino Kavafis
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Konstantin Kavafis
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Konstantinos Petrou Kavafis
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Kōnstantinos Petrou Kavaphēs
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Kavafis
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Kōnstantinos Petrou Kabaphēs
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Kawafis
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Konstandinos Kavafis
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Konstantinas Kavafis
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C.P. Cavafy
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Constantine Peter Cavafy
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Kōnstantinos P. Kavafīs
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Additional quotes by Konstantinos P. Cavafy
The Footsteps On an ebony bedstead
adorned with eagles made of coral,
Nero lies deep in sleep – quiet, unconscious, happy:
in the prime of his body’s vigour;
in the beautiful ardour of his youth. But in the alabaster hall
that holds the ancient shrine of the Ahenobarbi,
the Lares of his house are anxious.
These minor household gods are trembling,
trying to conceal their already negligible bodies.
For they heard a terrible noise,
a deadly sound spiralling up the staircase,
iron-soled footsteps shaking the steps.
The miserable Lares, near-fainting now,
huddle in the corner of the shrine,
jostling and stumbling over each other,
one little god falling over the next,
for they knew what sort of noise it was;
they recognize, by now, the footsteps of the Furies.
Honor to those who in the life they lead define and guard a Thermopylae. Never betraying what is right, consistent and just in all they do but showing pity also, and compassion; generous when they are rich, and when they are poor, still generous in small ways, still helping as much as they can; always speaking the truth, yet without hating those who lie.
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