A mezzanotte, d'improvviso, quando al suono di una musica che esulta fuori si sentono passare non visti gli attori

in allegra brigata ebbene sulla fortuna che sta per lasciarti, sulle tue imprese fallite coi progetti della vita che si palesarono illusori, non timpietosire! Ma da uomo preparato per tempo, da forte salutala, la tua Alessandria che dilegua. Non t'illudere, soprattutto non dire che fu un sogno che le orecchie t'ingannarono; rifiuta queste vane speranze. Come un uomo preparato per tempo, da forte cui s'addice l'esser degno di una citt come questa, avvicinati con passo fermo alla finestra e commosso ma senza l'abbandono i lamenti e le suppliche dei vili concediti quest'ultimo piacere! ascolta il suono il dolcissimo concerto della mistica brigata e saluta la tua Alessandria che tu perdi When suddenly, at midnight, you hear an invisible procession going by with exquisite music, voices, dont mourn your luck thats failing now, work gone wrong, your plans all proving deceptivedont mourn them uselessly. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving. Above all, dont fool yourself, dont say it was a dream, your ears deceived you: dont degrade yourself with empty hopes like these. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, as is right for you who proved worthy of this kind of city, go firmly to the window and listen with deep emotion, but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward; listenyour final delectationto the voices, to the exquisite music of that strange procession, and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing. Translated by Edmund Keeley/Philip Sherrard (C.P. Cavafy, Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Edited by George Savidis. Revised Edition. Princeton University Press, 1992) , , , , , , .

 , , , A . , , . , , , , , , , , , A . If unexpectedly, in middle night, an unseen company be heard to pass, with music and with voices exquisite, turn not away and uselessly lament your fortune that is giving in, your work that came to nothing, the projects of your life that proved illusory from first to last. As one prepared long since, as fits the brave, bid now farewell to the departing city, farewell to the Alexandria you love. And above all, do not deceive yourself: say not that your impression was a dream, that, it may be, your hearing played you false: to futile hopes like these never descend. As one prepared long since, as fits the brave, as most fits you who gained so great a city, approach the open window steadily, and with emotion, but without the plaints and supplications of the timorous, listen knowing it to be your last delight listen to the elysian sounds, the exquisite instruments of the mystic company; and bid farewell to the city you are losing, farewell to the Alexandria you love. Translated by John Cavafy When abruptly, at midnight, you hear an invisible procession pass by with delightful music, and voices, dont grieve for your failing fortunes, your spoiled deeds, the illusion of your lifes plan; to mourn is useless. Rather, with foreknowledge and boldness, bid farewell to the departing Alexandria. Above all, dont fool yourself, dont claim it was just a dream, that you heard a lie;

avoid all such futile notions. As if long prepared, and ever courageous, acting as one who deserves such a city, make your way to the window, and listen closely with your heart, not with cowardly pleas and protests; hear, as a last pleasure, those sounds, the delightful music of the invisible procession, and bid farewell to the Alexandria you are losing. Translated by Stratis Haviaras BURBANK crossed a little bridge Descending at a small hotel; Princess Volupine arrived, They were together, and he fell. Defunctive music under sea Passed seaward with the passing bell Slowly: the God Hercules Had left him, that had loved him well. The horses, under the axletree Beat up the dawn from Istria With even feet. Her shuttered barge Burned on the water all the day. But this or such was Bleisteins way: A saggy bending of the knees And elbows, with the palms turned out, Chicago Semite Viennese. A lustreless protrusive eye Stares from the protozoic slime At a perspective of Canaletto. The smoky candle end of time Declines. On the Rialto once. The rats are underneath the piles. The jew is underneath the lot. Money in furs. The boatman smiles, Princess Volupine extends A meagre, blue-nailed, phthisic hand To climb the waterstair. Lights, lights, She entertains Sir Ferdinand Klein. Who clipped the lions wings And flead his rump and pared his claws? 3 0 2 5 2 0 1 5 1 0 5

Thought Burbank, meditating on Times ruins, and the seven laws.