{"id":11423,"date":"2020-07-16T12:47:41","date_gmt":"2020-07-16T11:47:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11423"},"modified":"2020-07-30T14:47:41","modified_gmt":"2020-07-30T13:47:41","slug":"3-c-p-cavafy-translations","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11423","title":{"rendered":"3 C.P. Cavafy Translations"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/h4>\n

The Bandage<\/b><\/span><\/h4>\n

He said that he\u2019d stumbled into a wall or fallen.
\n<\/span>But likely the cut on his shoulder
\n<\/span>was caused by something more serious.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stood up abruptly, reaching for some
\n<\/span>photographs on a high shelf
\n<\/span>that he wanted to hold. The bandage
\n<\/span>loosened and the cut opened.<\/span><\/p>\n

I dressed his shoulder again, but was slow
\n<\/span>in finishing, because it caused him no pain
\n<\/span>and because I liked to look at his blood. That blood
\n<\/span>was the source of my longing for him.
\n<\/span>
\n<\/span>When he left, I found at the foot
\n<\/span>of his chair a bloodied cloth, cotton,
\n<\/span>a cloth that looked ready for the rubbish bin
\n<\/span>and that I took to my lips
\n<\/span>and held there for a long time \u2013
\n<\/span>the blood of longing on my lips. <\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

The Great Feast of Sosibios<\/b><\/span><\/h4>\n

My afternoon was stunning, simply
\n<\/span>stunning. The oar touched down softly,<\/span><\/p>\n

stroking the Alexandrian Sea.
\n<\/span>Well-earned rest after morning\u2019s difficulty.<\/span><\/p>\n

May the earth remain as innocent and benign
\n<\/span>as wistful evening falls. And there, no wine,<\/span><\/p>\n

not a drop left in the bowl.
\n<\/span>Time, dear one, to drift towards the waterfall.<\/span><\/p>\n

A wine-flushed house (that of glorious
\n<\/span>Sosibios and his good wife) calls to us.<\/span><\/p>\n

We must return to the inevitable
\n<\/span>and continue our dull political struggle.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

Prince of Western Libya<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

He was largely admired in Alexandria,
\n<\/span>the ten days he endured there,
\n<\/span>Aristomenis, son of Menelaos,
\n<\/span>a prince of Western Libya.
\n<\/span>Respectable, Greek: his name, his clothes.
\n<\/span>Honours were accepted, but he did
\n<\/span>not seek them \u2013 out of modesty.
\n<\/span>He purchased Greek books,
\n<\/span>much history and philosophy.
\n<\/span>He was considered a reserved man,
\n<\/span>bound to thoughtful appreciation,
\n<\/span>and such men do not have to speak.<\/span><\/p>\n

Except he was neither thoughtful
\n<\/span>nor anything else. Another ordinary,
\n<\/span>silly fellow. He took a Greek name,
\n<\/span>dressed like a Greek, learned the A to Z
\n<\/span>of carrying himself like a Greek.
\n<\/span>He trembled lest through fortune
\n<\/span>he spoil this levelheaded impression,
\n<\/span>speaking Greek with such stiff barbarousness
\n<\/span>the Alexandrians mocked him \u2013
\n<\/span>as is their habit, dreadful people.<\/span><\/p>\n

This is why he spoke so little,
\n<\/span>careful with declensions and pronunciation:
\n<\/span>he was terrified. He carried many
\n<\/span>conversations piled inside him. <\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The Bandage He said that he\u2019d stumbled into a wall or fallen. But likely the cut on his shoulder was caused by something more serious. He stood up abruptly, reaching for some photographs on a high shelf that he wanted to hold. The bandage loosened and the cut opened. I dressed his shoulder again, but […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":37,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[394,395],"tags":[398],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n3 C.P. Cavafy Translations - The Manchester Review<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11423\" \/>\n<link rel=\"next\" href=\"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11423&page=2\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"3 C.P. Cavafy Translations - The Manchester Review\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"The Bandage He said that he\u2019d stumbled into a wall or fallen. But likely the cut on his shoulder was caused by something more serious. He stood up abruptly, reaching for some photographs on a high shelf that he wanted to hold. The bandage loosened and the cut opened. 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He is the author of Later Emperors (Carcanet 2020) and The Barbarians Arrive Today: Poems & Prose of C.P. Cavafy (Carcanet 2020).\",\"url\":\"https:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?author=37\"}]}<\/script>\n<!-- \/ Yoast SEO plugin. -->","yoast_head_json":{"title":"3 C.P. Cavafy Translations - The Manchester Review","robots":{"index":"index","follow":"follow","max-snippet":"max-snippet:-1","max-image-preview":"max-image-preview:large","max-video-preview":"max-video-preview:-1"},"canonical":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11423","next":"http:\/\/www.themanchesterreview.co.uk\/?p=11423&page=2","og_locale":"en_US","og_type":"article","og_title":"3 C.P. Cavafy Translations - The Manchester Review","og_description":"The Bandage He said that he\u2019d stumbled into a wall or fallen. But likely the cut on his shoulder was caused by something more serious. He stood up abruptly, reaching for some photographs on a high shelf that he wanted to hold. 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