Constantine P. Cavafy
The days of the future stand in front of us
Like a line of candles all alight----
Golden and warm and lively little candles.
The days that are past are left behind,
A mournful row of candles that are out;
The nearer ones are still smoking,
Candles cold, and melted, candles bent.,
I don’t want to see them; their shapes hurt me,
It hurts me to remember the light of them at first.
I look before me at my lighted candles,
I don’t want to turn around and see with horror
How quickly the dark line is lengthening,
How quickly the candles multiply that have been put out.
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Comments about this poem (Candles by Constantine P. Cavafy )
- Native land., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
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- Don't Be Afraid, Lilly Emery
- Be, Andy Caldwell
- Tree saplings., Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
- Thank You, Tandin Dorji
- May Peace Prevail, Cathy Hodgson
- Baldy Bert, Von Kimball Barney
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