Cavafy

Cavafy

Move past me, to hold in ode honour to Cavafy
He who knows that flight from, is to escape nothing
He found no road, no ship that exists, to pass beyond.

The tutor who taught us, not to move, but to stay amidst witness
The letterer, whom serves the way in which my story comes to say
A shape in the blackness by way of white is with one eye grey.

To seek out and know, every-thing that you recognize is familiar
The distance, which teaches, that every-thing you leave pursues
And that everything you hurt will be the silence in your talking.

Wrecked in earth this whole place through, is to stand found
For that everything you adore will be the last stone you heave,
As when you want unseen, then the wrecking is self-complete.

I find the message to myself from the yet to be received,
The picture that has been taken from my seen long ago
Hold and to know that from this place, you are not too alone.