POETRY | Cavafy Poetry Threesome

Imani got me thinking about Cavafy, which got me all nostalgic and pensive. Never a good thing. ;)

Many years ago I was at a low point of my life. I came to the poetry of Cavafy and it felt as though he spoke to me. I shared The City -- one of the Cavafy poem I love -- with a colleague. She read it, I asked her how she felt. She replied:

"Now I'm depressed."

I laughed. But much later the truth in the poem hit me. I was forced to look back at the wreckage of my life, and there was no clean slate, no fresh start; There was no forgiveness, no redemption. The wreckage that was my life I will bring with me no matter where I go. As the poem goes, "As you have ruined your life here/in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world". The only way is to build on the ruins of my regrets.

The City

You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;

and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."

New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.

There was a time I questioned my direction and my choices in life. What do I really want? Have I stayed true to my dreams? Have I sold out to an easy, comfortable job and lost my way? I wondered if I was like The Satrapy.

The Satrapy

What a misfortune, although you are made
for fine and great works
this unjust fate of yours always
denies you encouragement and success;
that base customs should block you;
and pettiness and indifference.
And how terrible the day when you yield
(the day when you give up and yield),
and you leave on foot for Susa,
and you go to the monarch Artaxerxes
who favorably places you in his court,
and offers you satrapies and the like.
And you accept them with despair
these things that you do not want.
Your soul seeks other things, weeps for other things;
the praise of the public and the Sophists,
the hard-won and inestimable Well Done;
the Agora, the Theater, and the Laurels.
How can Artaxerxes give you these,
where will you find these in a satrapy;
and what life can you live without these.

In life, one can only aspires to the expansive soul that was King Demetrius. We all come to a role in life, and when it is time for the curtain-calls, grace asks that we step down, move on. Nothing is permanent, not love, not hate, and definitely not your job. There were some changes at work some years back -- I took it badly because all that I have built the past 4 years seemed for naught. It was until much later that I saw how foolish I had been.

King Demetrius

Not like a king, but like an actor,
instead of his royal robe, he put on a
gray cloak and stealthily departed.
PLUTARCH, "Life of Demetrius."

When the Macedonians abandoned him,
and proved that they prefer Pyrrhus,
King Demetrius (he had a great soul)
did not--so they stated--behave
in the least like a king. He went
and took off his robes of gold,
and cast off his purple shoes.
He dressed hurriedly
in simple clothes and went off.
Behaving like an actor
who when the performance is over
changes his clothes and departs.