Today, I was sitting with a woman who’s mind was fading in and out. Once in a while, her dull blue eyes would make way for a flicker of light and excitement as me or her said something silly, or we looked at each other in kindness and openness.
I had noticed a folded paper laying on the table next to her bed. I had also noticed that, over the time of me sitting with her, she had put three or four different items, one at a time, partly on top of this paper and partly off off it. This clearly was not meant for everyone to see.
After a while, she looked at me, as her hand reached for the paper, a split-second of doubt shimmered in her eyes. But then she picked it up and said: “This seems to find its way into my hands on a regular basis. Will you read it to me?”
Even the very, very rough German translation I read, took me by surprise as I read the words and heard them come out of my mouth.
Oh do we learn from each other, always, humbly, most humbly, in the most unexpected of moments..
Sharing with you “Ithaka” – A beautiful piece about Life (and Passing On).
Ithaka
By C. P. Cavafy. (Translated by Edmund Keeley)
As you set out for Ithaka
hope your road is a long one,
full of adventure, full of discovery.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
angry Poseidon—don’t be afraid of them:
you’ll never find things like that on your way
as long as you keep your thoughts raised high,
as long as a rare excitement
stirs your spirit and your body.
Laistrygonians, Cyclops,
wild Poseidon—you won’t encounter them
unless you bring them along inside your soul,
unless your soul sets them up in front of you.
Hope your road is a long one.
May there be many summer mornings when,
with what pleasure, what joy,
you enter harbors you’re seeing for the first time;
may you stop at Phoenician trading stations
to buy fine things,
mother of pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
sensual perfume of every kind—
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
and may you visit many Egyptian cities
to learn and go on learning from their scholars.
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you’re destined for.
But don’t hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you’re old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you’ve gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvelous journey.
Without her you wouldn’t have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
And if you find her poor, Ithaka won’t have fooled you.
Wise as you will have become, so full of experience,
you’ll have understood by then what these Ithakas mean.
C. P. Cavafy, “The City” from C.P. Cavafy: Collected Poems. Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Translation Copyright © 1975, 1992 by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Reproduced with permission of Princeton University Press. (From https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51296/ithaka-56d22eef917ec)