With no consideration, no pity, no shame,
they have built walls around me, thick and high.
And now I sit here feeling hopeless.
I can't think of anything else: this fate gnaws my mind -
because I had so much to do outside.
When they were building the walls, how could I not have noticed!
But I never heard the builders, not a sound.
Imperceptibly they have closed me off from the outside world.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Katzantzakis writes: ηθικη, θρεισκια, πατριδα, φραχτες που ασκωσε ο κακομοιρης ο φοβισμενος ο ανθρωπος για να κουτσοπερασει ασφαλισμενα τη φτωχουλα του τη ζωη Translated: morality, religion, patriotism, fences that unfortunate man build to pass Securely his poore life. Kavafy seems to regret the walls (fences) that society build around him at his old age that keep us from the ‘sinful pleasures’ when young.