Constantine P. Cavafy

(29 April 1863 – 29 April 1933 / Alexandria)

Constantine P. Cavafy Poems

1. Kimon, Son Of Learchos, 22, Student Of Greek Literature (In Kyrini) 9/25/2012
2. King Dimitrios 9/25/2012
3. In A Town Of Osroini 9/26/2012
4. In The Evening 9/26/2012
5. Herodis Attikos 9/26/2012
6. Lovely White Flowers 9/26/2012
7. Of Dimitrios Sotir 9/26/2012
8. Orophernis 9/26/2012
9. Passing Through 9/26/2012
10. Priest At The Serapeion 9/26/2012
11. Sculptor Of Tyana 9/26/2012
12. Temethos, Antiochian, A.D. 400 9/26/2012
13. That's The Man 9/26/2012
14. The Favour Of Alexander Valas 9/26/2012
15. The Funeral Of Sarpedon 9/26/2012
16. The Glory Of The Ptolemies 9/26/2012
17. The Twenty-Fifth Year Of His Life 9/26/2012
18. Theophilos Palaiologos 9/26/2012
19. To Antiochos Epiphanis 9/26/2012
20. When They Come Alive 9/26/2012
21. You Didn'T Understand 9/26/2012
22. Julian At The Mysteries 9/26/2012
23. September, 1903 9/26/2012
24. On The Stairs 9/26/2012
25. Returning From Greece 9/26/2012
26. Growing In Spirit 9/26/2012
27. To Have Taken The Trouble 9/26/2012
28. Two Young Men, 23 To 24 Years Old 9/26/2012
29. The Footsteps 9/26/2012
30. Prayer 9/26/2012
31. Outside The House 9/26/2012
32. Imenos 9/26/2012
33. Kleitos' Illness 9/26/2012
34. On Board Ship 9/26/2012
35. Tomb Of The Grammarian Lysias 9/26/2012
36. To Sensual Pleasure 9/26/2012
37. Things Ended 9/26/2012
38. The Photograph 9/26/2012
39. The Souls Of Old Men 9/26/2012
40. Simeon 9/26/2012
Best Poem of Constantine P. Cavafy

Ithaca

When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you.

Ask that your way be long.
At many a Summer dawn to enter
with what gratitude, what joy -
ports seen ...

Read the full of Ithaca

Half An Hour

I never had you, nor will I ever have you
I suppose. A few words, an approach
as in the bar yesterday, and nothing more.
It is, undeniably, a pity. But we who serve Art
sometimes with intensity of mind, and of course only
for a short while, we create pleasure
which almost seems real.
So in the bar the day before yesterday -- the merciful alcohol
was also helping much --

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