The years of my youth, my sensual life --
how clearly I see their meaning now.
What needless repentances, how futile...
But I didn't see the meaning then.
Out of the dissolute life of my youth
my poetry's aims grew,
my art's realm was drawn.
That is why the repentances were never steadfast.
And resolutions to hold back, to change
lasted two weeks at most.
C.P. Cavafy (1917 or 1918.)
~~~~~~~~
"Youth"? ... it was his dissolute life from age 40 to 62 that provided meaning to the unpoetic blogging of
E@L
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment