Ithaca

                                               
 

Mike left me a comment on my last post about Cavafy and I searched for a poem he mentioned. I am not sure if I found the right poem but instead I also found  a few videos related to Cavafy. The first one is a recitation of the English translation of his poem 'Ithaca' by Sean Connery and music by Vangelis. The second is the original Greek version of the poem as seen in the 1996 movie 'Cavafy' directed by Iannis Smaragdis (which looks beautiful).

Then there also is a video I got from You Tube by Souldier. It is based on the poem I posted in my last post about Cavafy called 'Body Remembers'. There are some other interesting videos posted by Souldier on his profile on You Tube.

                                 

  ITHACA

As you set out for 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 trading stations

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

wealthy with all you've gained on the way,

not expecting Ithaca 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.

                                                 

    

In an Old Book

Forgotten between the leaves of an old book—

almost a hundred years old—

I found an unsigned watercolor.

It must have been the work of a powerful artist.

Its title: “Representation of Love.”

 

“...love of extreme sensualists” would have been more to the point.

 

Because it became clear as you looked at the work

(it was easy to see what the artist had in mind)

that the young man in the painting

was not designated for those

who love in ways that are more or less healthy,

inside the bounds of what is clearly permissible—

with his deep chestnut eyes,

the rare beauty of his face,

the beauty of anomalous charm,

with those ideal lips that bring

sensual delight to the body loved,

those ideal limbs shaped for beds

that common morality calls shameless. 

Video Credits: Souldier and Babylonianman