At the Cafe Door

Cavafy was Greek, raised in Alexandria, Egypt. Here, his poem titled At the Cafe Door:

Something they said beside me made me look toward the café door,and I saw that lovely body which seemedas though Eros in his mastery had fashioned it,joyfully shaping its well-formed limbs,molding its tall build,shaping its face tenderly,and leaving, with a touch of the fingers,a particular nuance on the brow, the eyes, the lips.
 

Sounio

Salonica

On my mind:

He Who Breaks Limbs

From Hesiod:

Thus before all else, there came into being the Gaping Chasm, Chaos, but there followed the broad-chested Earth, Gaia, the forever-secure seat of the immortals . . . and also Love, Eros, the most beautiful of the immortal gods, he who breaks limbs

Salonica

Here are some old photos / postcards that I found of Thessaloniki -- also known in earlier days as Salonique, Salonica, and so on.

Aristotle's Challenge

From The Nicomachean Ethics:

Anyone can become angry -- that is easy. 

But to be angry with the right person, 

to the right degree, 

at the right time, 

for the right purpose and in the right way -- 

this is not easy.

  -- Aristotle

So They Will Come --

From Cavafy:
So They Will Come --

One candle is enough.    Its dim light
is more apt,        more genial
when Love comes,      when its Shadows come.

One candle is enough.        Tonight the room
should not have much light.         Fully inside the dream,
evocative,     in the low light --
inside the dream like this,          I will have visions
so Love will come,      so its Shadows will come.

(1920)
Translated by Aliki Barnstone

With a Bird in Your Palm

From Elytis, The Eternal Wager

1
That one day you will bite into the new lemon
and release
huge amounts of sun from it.

2
That all currents of the seas
suddenly illumined will reveal you
raising the tempest to the ethical level.

3
That even in death you will again
be like water in the sun
turning chill by instinct.

4
That you will be catechized by the birds
and a foliage of words will clothe you
in Greek so you will seem invincible.

5
That a water drop will culminate
imperceptibly on your eyelashes
beyond the pain and way after the tear.

6
That all the worlds' unsympathy will turn to stone
on which you can sit like a prince
with a docile bird in your palm.

7
That alone at last you will harmonize
slowly with the grandeur
of sunrise and sunset.

Dice Were Cast

A poem by Yannis Ritsos. From Clay.


Clay: 33

He took off
his beautiful mask
and placed it
on the bed.
His face completely
incomprehensible
appeared bloody.
Then the dice were cast.

The Thousand Fragments

From Sixteen Haiku by George Seferis, this is 11:

How can you gather together
the thousand fragments
of each person?

But The Water Was Brackish

A poem - by Seferis:

Denial
by George Seferis

On the secret sea-shore
white like a pigeon
we thirsted at noon:
but the water was brackish.

On the golden sand
we wrote her name;
but the sea-breeze blew
and the writing vanished.

With what spirit, what heart,
what desire and passion
we lived our life: a mistake!
So we changed our life.

White Tower in Blue

Interval of Joy

Interval of Joy by George Seferis

We were happy all that morning Ο God how happy. First the stones the leaves and the flowers shone and then the sun a huge sun all thorns but so very high in the heavens. Α Nymph was gathering our cares and hanging them on the trees a forest of Judas trees. Cupids and satyrs were singing and playing and rosy limbs could be glimpsed amid black laurel the flesh of young children. We were happy all that morning; the abyss was a closed well οn which the tender foot of a young faun stamped do you remember its laughter: how happy we were! And then clouds rain and the damp earth; you stopped laughing when you reclined in the hut, and opened your large eyes and gazed on the archangel wielding a fiery sword 'Ι cannot explain it, ' you said, 'Ι cannot explain it, ' Ι find people impossible to understand however much they may play with colors they are all black.

From PoemHunter

Thessaloniki

A big moon hangs close to the white tower, over a city that I love.

Photo from www.kairos-holidays.com

Meaning

It was not my intention to post another poem today; however, I opened my collection by Cavafy to a page titled Meaning. I share it here:

Meaning
by C.P. Cavafy

The years of my youth, my sensual life--
how clearly I see their meaning now.

What needless repentances, how futile...

But I didn't see the meaning then.

Out of the dissolute life of my youth
my poetry's aims grew
my art's realm was drawn.

That is why the repentances were never steadfast.
And my resolutions to hold back, to change,
lasted two weeks at most.