The Windows

Constantine P. Cavafy

In these darkened rooms, where I spend
oppresive days, I pace to and fro
to find the windows. -- When a window
opens, it will be a consolation. --
But the windows cannot be found, or I cannot
find them. And maybe it is best that I do not find them.
Maybe the light will be a new tyranny.
Who knows what new things it will reveal.

Next 10 Poems

• Constantine P. Cavafy : Thermopylae
• Constantine P. Cavafy : They Should Have Provided
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Those Who Fought For The Achaean League
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Trojans
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Understanding
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Very Seldom
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Voices
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Waiting For The Barbarians
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Walls
• Arthur Chapman : Christmas Shopping In Cactus Center

Previous 10 Poems

• Constantine P. Cavafy : The Satrapy
• Constantine P. Cavafy : The God Abandons Antony
• Constantine P. Cavafy : The First Step
• Constantine P. Cavafy : The City
• Constantine P. Cavafy : The Bandaged Shoulder
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Supplication
• Constantine P. Cavafy : So Much I Gazed
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Since Nine O'clock
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Return
• Constantine P. Cavafy : Remember, Body...