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He said he'd hurt himself against a wall or had fallen down. But there was probably some other reason for the wounded, the bandaged shoulder. With a… - Konstantinos P. Cavafy
" "He said he'd hurt himself against a wall or had fallen down.
But there was probably some other reason for the wounded, the bandaged shoulder.
With a rather abrupt gesture, reaching for a shelf to bring down some photographs he wanted to look at, the bandage came came undone and a little blood ran.
I did it up again, taking my time over the binding; he wasn't in pain and I liked looking at the blood. It was a thing of my love, that blood.
When he left, I found, in front of his chair, a bloody rag, part of the dressing, a rag to be thrown straight into the garbage; and I put it to my lips and kept it there a long while- the blood of love against my lips.
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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
"Return"
Return often and take me,
beloved sensation, return and take me — when the memory of the body awakens,
and an old desire runs again through the blood;
when the lips and the skin remember,
and the hands feel as if they touch again.
Return often and take me at night,
when the lips and the skin remember...
You said: “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 lies buried like something dead.
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 neighborhoods, turn gray 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.
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