above all do not be fooled

When suddenly at the midnight hour

an invisible troupe is heard passing

with exquisite music, with shouts—

do not mourn in vain your fortune failing you now, 

your works that have failed, the plans of your life

that have all turned out to be illusions. 

As if long prepared for this, as if courageous, 

bid her farewell, the Alexandria that is leaving. 

Above all do not be fooled, do not tell yourself

it was only a dream, that your ears deceived you; 

do not stoop to such vain hopes. 

As if long prepared for this, as if courageous, 

as it becomes you who are worthy of such a city; 

approach the window with firm step, 

and listen with emotion, but not

with the entreaties and complaints of the coward, 

as a last enjoyment listen to the sounds, 

the exquisite instruments of the mystical troupe, 

and bid her farewell, the Alexandria you are losing. 

—C. P. Cavafy (1863-1933), "The God Forsakes Antony," 1911. Translated by Rae Dalven (San Diego: Harcourt, 1948/1976). This is a sad poem, but I also find it really beautiful—which is a combination and a mood that Cavafy completely excels at, both here and elsewhere.