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Kyriakos
06-30-2010, 06:16 AM
Cavafy is my favourite poet. I like how he used (at least this is how i view it) greek history to symbolise his own life, worries, dramatic events, sadness and thriumph. :)
You can read most of his poems at www.cavafy.com.

Oh, as a small gift, and an introduction to Cavafy, here is my own translation of one of his poems which (i think) has not yet been officially translated to english:

The pawn

Many times, while watching others playing chess
my eye is following a pawn
which slowly finds the way
to reach the final square.

It reaches it with such willingness
that one thinks that there will be the start of
its pleasures, and its compensations.

It finds much unfortune while still on its way there.
Unmounted troops throw their blades to its side
the castles hit it with their broad lines
inside of their two squares fast riders
seek to make it get stuck, cunningly
and with the threat behind the corner,
and now and then also it finds on its path
another pawn, sent from the barracks of the enemy.

But it survives all those dangers
and it reaches the final square.

How thriumphantly it reaches there,
in the horrible final square
how willingly does it touch its death!

Because here the pawn will die
and all of its hardships were just for that.
For the Queen, which shall save us,
to ressurect her from the grave
it came to fall to the hades of the chessboard.

quasimodo1
06-30-2010, 10:01 AM
An old man
At the back of the noisy café
bent over a table sits an old man;
a newspaper in front of him, without company.

And in the scorn of his miserable old age
he ponders how little he enjoyed the years
when he had strength, and the power of the word, and good looks.

He knows he has aged much; he feels it, he sees it.
And yet the time he was young seems
like yesterday. How short a time, how short a time.

And he ponders how Prudence deceived him;
and how he always trusted her -- what a folly! --
that liar who said: "Tomorrow. There is ample time."

He remembers the impulses he curbed; and how much
joy he sacrificed. Every lost chance
now mocks his senseless wisdom.

...But from so much thinking and remembering
the old man gets dizzy. And falls asleep
bent over the café table.

Constantine P. Cavafy (1897)

Kyriakos
06-30-2010, 02:57 PM
Nice pick :)