"I'll go to another country, go to another shore, find another city better than this one. Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong and my hear… - Konstantinos P. Cavafy
"I'll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart -like something dead- lies buried.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I've spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally."
You won't find a new country, won't find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You'll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighbourhoods, turn grey in these same houses.
You'll always end up in this city. Don't hope for things elsewhere:
there's no ship for you, there's no road.
Now that you've wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you've destroyed it everywhere in the world.
English
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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
Anyway, those things would not have lasted long.
The experience of the years shows it to me.
But Destiny arrived in some haste and stopped them.
The beautiful life was brief.
But how potent were the perfumes,
On how splendid a bed we lay,
To what sensual delight we gave our bodies.
An echo of the days of pleasure,
An echo of the days drew near me,
A little of the fire of the youth of both of us,
Again I took in my hands a letter,
And I read and reread till the light was gone.
And melancholy, I came out on the balcony
Came out to change my thoughts at least by looking at
A little of the city that I loved,
A little movement on the street and in the shops.
Translated by Rae Dalven
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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