The Complete Poems of C.P. Cavafy. Daniel Mendelsohn

in the middle; hence the name Charmides is KAHR-mih-deez, not Tchar-mih-deez.

       An initial i is consonantal, pronounced as a y: hence the name Iases is pronounced Yah-SEEZ. Otherwise, the vowel i is pronounced ee, and never rhymes with the word eye.

       The final -es in masculine nouns and names is invariably voiced, and pronounced eez, like the -es at the end of the name Socrates. Hence the name Mebes is pronounced Meebeez, never Meebs.

       In the case of Classical Greek names, the final e in feminine nouns and names is always sounded as ay: hence the name Stratonice is Strah-toe-NEE-kay. In the case of Byzantine names, the final e is pronounced as ee: hence the second part of the empress Anna Dalassene’s name is Dah-lah-see-NEE, never Dah-lah-SEEN.

I

Poems 1905–1915

       The City

      You said: “I’ll go to some other land, I’ll go to some other sea.

      There’s bound to be another city that’s better by far.

      My every effort has been ill­fated from the start;

      my heart—like something dead—lies buried away;

      How long will my mind endure this slow decay?

      Wherever I look, wherever I cast my eyes,

      I see all round me the black rubble of my life

      where I’ve spent so many ruined and wasted years.”

      You’ll find no new places, you won’t find other shores.

      The city will follow you. The streets in which you pace

      will be the same, you’ll haunt the same familiar places,

      and inside those same houses you’ll grow old.

      You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t bother to hope

      for a ship, a route, to take you somewhere else; they don’t exist.

      Just as you’ve destroyed your life, here in this

      small corner, so you’ve wasted it through all the world.

      [1894; 1910]

       The Satrapy

      What a pity, given that you’re made

      for deeds that are glorious and great,

      that this unjust fate of yours always

      leads you on, and denies you your success;

      that base habits get in your way,

      and pettinesses, and indifference.

      How terrible, too, the day when you give in

      (the day when you let yourself go and give in),

      and leave to undertake the trip to Susa,

      and go to the monarch Artaxerxes,

      who graciously establishes you at court,

      and offers you satrapies, and the like.

      And you, you accept them in despair,

      these things that you don’t want.

      But your soul seeks, weeps for other things:

      the praise of the People and the Sophists,

      the hard-won, priceless “Bravos”;

      the Agora, the Theatre, and the victors’ Crowns.

      How will Artaxerxes give you them,

      how will you find them in the satrapy;

      and what kind of life, without them, will you live.

      [1905; 1910]

       But Wise Men Apprehend What Is Imminent

       The gods perceive what lies in the future, and mortals, what occurs in the present, but wise men apprehend what is imminent.

      —PHILOSTRATUS, Life of Apollonius of Tyana, VIII, 7

      Mortal men perceive things as they happen.

      What lies in the future the gods perceive,

      full and sole possessors of all enlightenment.

      Of all the future holds, wise men apprehend

      what is imminent. Their hearing,

      sometimes, in moments of complete

      absorption in their studies, is disturbed. The secret call

      of events that are about to happen reaches them.

      And they listen to it reverently. While in the street

      outside, the people hear nothing at all.

      [1896; 1899; <1915]

       Ides of March

      Of glory be you fearful, O my Soul.

      And if you are unable to defeat

      your ambitions, then hesitantly, guardedly

      pursue them. And the further you proceed,

      the more searching, the more attentive must you be.

      And when at last you reach your apogee—a Caesar;

      and cut the figure of one who’s much renowned,

      then take heed more than ever as you go out on the street,

      a man of power, conspicuous with your retinue,

      when someone approaches you out of the crowd,

      a certain Artemidorus, bringing a letter,

      and hurriedly says “Read this right away,

      it’s something important that concerns you,”

      don’t fail to stop; don’t fail to put off

      all talk and business; don’t fail to

      brush off all and sundry who salute and fawn

      (you can see them later); let even

      the Senate wait, and find out at once

      the weighty contents of Artemidorus’s letter.

      [1906; 1910]

       Finished

      Deep in fear and in suspicion,

      with flustered minds and terrified eyes,

      we wear ourselves out figuring how

      we might avoid the certain

      danger that threatens us so terribly.

      And yet we’re mistaken, that’s not it ahead:

      the news was wrong

      (or we ­didn’t hear it; or ­didn’t get it right).

      But a disaster that we never imagined

      suddenly, shatteringly breaks upon us,

      and unprepared—no time left now—we are swept away.

      [1910; 1911]