When suddenly there is heard at midnight

                                           

                                  The God Abandons Anthony

                                      by Constantinos P. Cavafy

When suddenly there is heard at midnight
A company passing invisible
With wonderful music, with voices, -
Your fortune giving way now, your works
Which have failed, the plans of a lifetime
All turned illusions, do not mourn uselessly.
As one prepared long since, courageously,

Say farewell to her, to Alexandria who is leaving.
Above all do not be tricked, never say it was
All a dream, and that your hearing was deceived;
Do not stop to such vain hopes as these.

As one prepared long since, courageously,
As becomes one worthy as you were of such a city,
Firmly draw near the window,
And listen with emotion but not
with the complainings and entreaties of cowards,
Listen, your last enjoyment, to the sounds,
The wonderful instruments of the mystic company,
And say farewell, farewell to Alexandria you are losing.

The poems of C.P. Cavafy. Trans. J. Mavrogordatos. 1951

                                  Anthony & Cleopatra

                                   by Wm. Shakespeare

SCENE III.

Alexandria. Before CLEOPATRA's palace

Enter a company of soldiers

FIRST SOLDIER. Brother, good night. To-morrow is the day.

SECOND SOLDIER. It will determine one way. Fare you well.

Heard you of nothing strange about the streets?

FIRST SOLDIER. Nothing. What news?

SECOND SOLDIER. Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you.

FIRST SOLDIER. Well, sir, good night.

[They meet other soldiers]

SECOND SOLDIER. Soldiers, have careful watch.

FIRST SOLDIER. And you. Good night, good night.

[The two companies separate and place themselves

in every corner of the stage]

SECOND SOLDIER. Here we. And if to-morrow

Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope

Our landmen will stand up.

THIRD SOLDIER. 'Tis a brave army,

And full of purpose.

[Music of the hautboys is under the stage]

SECOND SOLDIER. Peace, what noise?

THIRD SOLDIER. List, list!

SECOND SOLDIER. Hark!

THIRD SOLDIER. Music i' th' air.

FOURTH SOLDIER. Under the earth.

THIRD SOLDIER. It signs well, does it not?

FOURTH SOLDIER. No.

THIRD SOLDIER. Peace, I say!

What should this mean?

SECOND SOLDIER. 'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony lov'd,

Now leaves him.

THIRD SOLDIER. Walk; let's see if other watchmen

Do hear what we do.

SECOND SOLDIER. How now, masters!

SOLDIERS. [Speaking together] How now!

How now! Do you hear this?

FIRST SOLDIER. Ay; is't not strange?

THIRD SOLDIER. Do you hear, masters? Do you hear?

FIRST SOLDIER. Follow the noise so far as we have quarter;

Let's see how it will give off.

SOLDIERS. Content. 'Tis strange. Exeunt.

Imagined beloved voices

                                                                                  By C. P. Cavafy

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.

Mortal men perceive things as they happen.

What lies in the future the gods perceive,

gull 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.

Voices

Imagined voices, and beloved, too,

of those who died, or of those who are

lost unto us like the dead.

Sometimes in our dreams they speak to us:

sometimes in its thought the mind will hear them.

And with their sound for a moment there return

sounds from the first poetry of our life –

like music, in the night, far off, that fades away.

Come Back

Come back often and take hold of me,

beloved feeling come back and take hold of me,

when the memory of the body reawakens,

and old longing once more passes through the blood;

when the lips and skin remember,

and the hands feel like they're touching once again.

Come back often and take hold of me at night,

when the lips and skin remember . . .

Translations by Daniel Mendelsohn.

Cavafy's little gods: three versions

by C. P. Cavafy, 1909

All the little household gods

Have started crying . . .W. H. Auden

THE FOOTSTEPS

Eagles of coral

adorn the ebony bed

where Nero lies fast asleep --

callous, happy, peaceful,

in the prime of his body's strength,

in the fine vigor of youth.

But in the alabaster hall that holds

the ancient shrine of the Aenobarbi

how restless the household deities!

The little gods tremble

and try to hide their insignificant bodies.

They've heard a terrible sound,

a deadly sound coming up the stairs,

iron footsteps that shake the staircase;

and, faint with fear, the miserable Lares

scramble to the back of the shrine,

shoving each other and stumbling,

one little god falling over another.

because they know what kind of sound that is,

know by now the footsteps of the Furies.

            Trans. E. Keeley & P. Sherrard

FOOTSTEPS

On an ebony bed, ornamented

with coral eagles, sound asleep, lies

Nero -- unconscious, quiet and blissful,

flourishing in the vigor of the flesh

and in the splendid strength of youth.

But in the alabaster hall enclosing

the ancient shrine of the Aenobarbi

how restive are his Lares.

The small household gods tremble

and they try to hide their insignificant bodies.

For they heard a sinister clamor,

a deathly clamor ascending the stairs;

iron footsteps rattling the stairs.

And now in a faint the miserable Lares

bury themselves in the rear of the shrine;

one tumbles and stumbles over the toher,

one little god falls over the other

for they understand what sort of clamor this is,

by now they already know the Furies' footsteps.

           Trans. Rae Dalven

THE STEPS

On an ebony bed that is adorned

with eagles made of coral, Nero sleeps

deeply -- heedless, calm, and happy;

flush in the prime of the flesh,

and in the beautiful vigor of youth.

But in the alabaster hall that holds

the ancient shrine of the Ahenobarbi

how uneasy are his Lares!

The little household gods are trembling,

trying to hide their slight bodies.

For they've heard a ghastly sound,

a fatal sound mounting the stairs,

footsteps of iron that rattle the steps.

And, faint with fear now, the pathetic Lares,

wriggle their way to the back of the shrine;

each jostles the other and stumbles

each little god falls over the other

because they've understood what kind of sound it is,

have come to know by now the Erinyes' footsteps.

           Trans. D. Mendelsohn

ΤΑ ΒΗΜΑΤΑ

Σ´ἐβένινο κρεββάτι στολισμένο

με1 κοραλλένιους ἐετούς, βαθυὰ κοιμᾶται

ὁ Νέρων ‒ ἀσυνείδητος, ἧσυχος, κ´ευ"τυχής·

ἀκμαῖος μὲς στὴν εὐρωστία τῆς σαρκός,

καὶ στῆσς νεότητος τ´ὡραῖο σφρῖγος.

Άλλὰ στὴν αἴθουσα τὴν ἀλαβάτρινη ποὺ κλείνει

τῶν Άηνοβάρβων τὸ ἀρχαῖο λαράριο

τί ἀνήσυχοι ποὺ εῖν´ οἱ Λάρητές του.

Τρέμουν οἱ σπιτικοὶ μικροὶ θεοί,

καὶ προσπαθοῦν τ´ ἀσήμαντά των σώματα νὰ κρύψουν.

Γιατὶ ἄκουσαν μια1 ἀπαίσια βοή,

θανάσιμη βοὴ τὴν σκάλα ν´ἀνεβαίνει,

βέματα σιδερένια ποὺ τραντάζουν τὰ σκαλιά.

Καὶ λιγοθυμισμένοι τώπα οἱ ἄ1λιοι Λάρετες,

μέσα στὸ Βάθος τοῦ λαράριους χώνονται,

ὁ ἕνας τὸν ἄλλονα σκουντᾶ καὶ σκουντουφλᾶ,

ὁ ἕνας μικρὸς θεὸς πάνω στὸν ἄλλον πέφτει

γιατὶ κατάλαβαν τί εἵδομ βοὴ εἶναι τούτη,

τἄνοιωααν πιὰ τὰ βήματα των Ἐριννύων.