The City
Constantine P. Cavafy
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.
Next 10 Poems
- Constantine P. Cavafy : The First Step
- Constantine P. Cavafy : The God Abandons Antony
- Constantine P. Cavafy : The Satrapy
- Constantine P. Cavafy : The Windows
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Thermopylae
- Constantine P. Cavafy : They Should Have Provided
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Those Who Fought For The Achaean League
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Trojans
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Understanding
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Very Seldom
Previous 10 Poems
- Constantine P. Cavafy : The Bandaged Shoulder
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Supplication
- Constantine P. Cavafy : So Much I Gazed
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Since Nine O'clock
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Return
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Remember, Body...
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Priest At The Serapeum
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Poseidonians
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Pictured
- Constantine P. Cavafy : Picture Of A 23-year-old Youth Painted By His Friend Of The Same Age, An Amature