pray that the road is long

When you start on your journey to Ithaca,
then pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
Do not fear the Lestrygonians
and the Cyclopes and the angry Poseidon.
You will never meet such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your body and your spirit.
You will never meet the Lestrygonians,
the Cyclopes and the fierce Poseidon,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not raise them up before you.

Then pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many,
that you will enter ports seen for the first time
with such pleasure, with such joy!
Stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and corals, amber and ebony,
and pleasurable perfumes of all kinds,
buy as many pleasurable perfumes as you can;
visit hosts of Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from those who have knowledge.

Always keep Ithaca fixed in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for long years;
and even to anchor at the isle when you are old,
rich with all that you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would never have taken the road.
But she has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not defrauded you.
With the great wisdom you have gained, with so much experience,
you must surely have understood by then what Ithacas mean.

—C. P. Cavafy (1863-1933), "Ithaca," 1911. Translated from the Greek by Rae Dalven, from The Complete Poems of Cavafy (Harcourt, 1976).

gabbysilang introduced me to Cavafy, and this was the first poem of his that got under my skin. I like a lot of his poems, although as always with things translated I wish I could read them in the original (which I may be able to do after I take six weeks of intensive Greek this summer, although that is Ancient Greek, so maybe not), and I especially like the blend, in his poems, of the ancient world and modern poetry, of politics and eroticism and mythology and history. This poem is less sexy and less queer than many of his poems, sadly, but I like its quietness, and I like what it has to say. (I also like that it is both very like and very unlike my usual favorite poem on this topic that is not by Homer. One equal temper of heroic hearts. Can you go home again?)