After Cavafy

‘Go find yourself another country, far away

city shore … Memphis, Thebes, Timbuktu --

God knows where … Anywhere but here!’

Someplace free from the stodgy squabs, old men,

the never-ending counter revolutions …

Go, find yourself a purpose, some reason

beyond this hour-to-hour existence  

of lazy decomposition, waiting for news

of how little life’s left to squander …

 

And though I never would drift too far from the familiar

shores of our old neighborhood, I’d never forgot

your precautionary warning -- where matters of the mind

are concerned -- don’t hope for art, the illusionary

ship of fools. When all’s said and done, what’s left should

speak through the generations to how much

you sweated to destroy everything else in this world.

Ken e Bujold