Ithaca, a poem by C.P. Cavafy

The poet Cavafy most probably doesn’t ring a bell with most of us. I must confess I hadn’t heard of him until the death of Sean Connery on October 31, 2020. There is no apparent link between both names except that the actor has read Cavafy’s poem with the musical background of the Greek composer Vangelis, who also composed the music for the Alexander movie directed by Oliver Stone.

Cavafy was born in Alexandria, Egypt, to Greek parents. After his father died in 1870, he moved to Liverpool, where he developed his command of the English language. Eventually, he returned to Alexandria.

Nothing predicted his destiny to become one of the most distinguished Greek poets of the 20^th century. He remained obscure all his life, and he only circulated his verses among friends. The main reason probably was that he was gay and that many of his poems were sexually explicit.

Cavafy was fascinated by ancient Greek and Roman civilizations, which was reflected in his poems describing life in those days.

The poem entitled “Ithaca,” which I quote hereafter, is generally accepted as one of his great works. It is based on Homer’s Odyssey and talks about the importance of our journey in life to reach our final destination. In other poems, like “The Battle of Magnesia” and “To Antiochus of Epiphanes,” Cavafy develops his theory that the decadence of civilization leads to its destruction.

ITHACA

As you set out to Ithaca 

hope that your journey is a long one, 

full of adventure, full of discovery. 

Laistrygonians and Cyclops, 

angry Poseidon-don't be afraid of them: 

you'll never find things like that on your way 

as long as you keep your thoughts raised high, 

as long as a rare sensation 

touches your spirit and your body. 

Laistrygonians and Cyclops, 

wild Poseidon-you won't encounter them 

unless you bring them along inside your soul, 

unless your soul sets them up in front of you. 

Hope that your journey is a long one.

May there be many summer mornings when, 

with what pleasure, what joy, 

you come into harbors you're seeing for the first time; 

may you stop at Phoenician 

to buy fine things 

mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

sensual perfume of every kind - 

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

and may you visit many Egyptian cities 

to learn and learn again from those who know. 

Keep Ithaka always in your mind. 

Arriving there is what you're destined for. 

But don't hurry the journey at all. 

Better if it lasts for years, 

so that you're old by the time you reach the island, 

wealthy with all you've gained on the way,

not expecting to make you rich. 

Ithaca gave you the marvelous journey. 

Without her you would have not set out. 

She has nothing left to give you now. 

And if you find her poor, Ithaca won't have fooled you. 

Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,

you'll have understood by then what these Ithacas mean.