Selected writings, notes, and reflections.
The city we have described can never grow into a reality or see the light of day; yet, whether such a city exists or ever will exist makes no difference, for it is the only city in whose politics a wise person would wish to engage. He will live in it as a model, laid up in heavens, and will act in accordance with it within himself, not concerning himself with the cities of this world.
From The Shape of Thought
The blazest revolution comes when you protect your dignity,
when you refuse to play along,
when you choose not to live in falseness,
when is not noise, spectacle, dogma or "anarchy"
but a silent strength of living Attentively!..
From my notes
Although this Reason (logos) holds forever, men fail to comprehend it, both before they have heard it and even after hearing it for the first time. For, although all things come about according to this Reason (logos), men are like the untried when they attempt such words and works as I set forth, distinguishing each according to its nature and explaining how it is ordered. And some men are as ignorant of what they do when awake as they are forgetful of what they do when asleep.
From The Shape of Thought
Without ever knowing it, he wept—
maybe because he had to weep,
maybe because the sorrows are coming…
There are some dreadful retributions;
there is in the sky an iron, a mighty fist
that does not crush, but punishes,
and ceaselessly presses down...
I have some broken wings...
I don't even know why
this summer came to us—
for what unhoped-for joy,
for what loves,
for what dreamed-of journey?..
When the swelling sea comes rolling in
and wets the morning sand,
it tells me of some familiar shore,
it tells me of some life I lived before…
From Karyotakis: Selected Poems
And if you cannot shape your life the way you want,
this at least, try,
as much as you can: do not debase it
by too much contact with the crowd,
by too much activity and talk...
Try not to debase it by dragging it along,
taking it around and exposing it so often
to the daily foolishness
of social relations and encounters—
until it becomes a burdensome stranger...
From C.P. Cavafy: Selected Poems
...So much darkness may not dwell there—Oh God—
in the night, in the despair of the lands,
in the dreadful firmament, in the howling of the wind,
in the gazes, in the words of people…
Let there be nothing, nothing anymore,
but a little joy and contentment remain…
And everyone will speak as if they were gone forever,
everyone, as if they were dead…
From Karyotakis: Selected Poems
Near the bright-lit window of a tobacconist,
they stood among the crowd.
Their eyes met by chance,
and softly, falteringly, confessed
the forbidden longing of their flesh...
Then, a few nervous steps along the pavement—
until they smiled, and slightly nodded...
And then, at last, the closed carriage…
the sensuous nearing of their bodies,
the joined hands, the joined lips...
From C.P. Cavafy: Selected Poems
Body, remember not only how much you were loved,
not only the beds where you have lain,
but also those desires that for you
gleamed plainly in the eyes,
and trembled in the voice—and some
chance obstacle interrupted them.
Now that all of it lies in the past,
it almost seems as if you gave yourself also
to those desires too—how they gleamed
remember, in the eyes that looked at you;
how they trembled in the voice, for you, body, remember...
From C.P. Cavafy: Selected Poems
Alas for human destiny! People’s happiest hours are pictures drawn in shadow...
— Aeschylus
The saddest aspect of life is that there is no one on earth whose happiness is such that he won't sometimes wish he were dead rather than alive...
— Herodotus
In every abundance coexist emptiness.
— Hippocrates
All cruelty springs from weakness...
— Seneca
The best revenge is not to become like the wrong-doer.
— Marcus Aurelius
Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices still are overthrown;
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.
— Shakespeare
If God has made us in his image, we have returned him the favour...
— Voltaire
From The Shape of Thought
A dry laurel leaf will fall at this very hour—
the pretext of your life, and you will be laid bare.
You will be as a tree without leaves,
that met the winter there, in the middle of the road...
And since by then it will be too late to create new chimeras,
or even some frivolous and conventional joy,
you will open the window for the last time,
and, looking at your whole life, quietly you will laugh...
From Karyotakis: Selected Poems