Alexandria; during the reign
of the augustus Constans and the augustus Constantius;
partly pagan, and partly Christianized):
“Strengthened by contemplation and study,
I will not fear my passions like a coward.
My body I will give to pleasures,
to diversions that I’ve dreamed of,
to the most daring erotic desires,
to the lustful impulses of my blood, without
any fear at all, for whenever I will—
and I will have the will, strengthened
as I’ll be with contemplation and study—
at the crucial moments I’ll recover
my spirit as it was before: ascetic.”
[?; 1911]
Manuel Comnenus
The emperor Lord Manuel Comnenus
one melancholy morning in September
sensed that death was near. The court astrologers
(those who were paid) were nattering on
that he had many years left yet to live.
But while they went on talking, the king
recalls neglected habits of piety,
and from the monastery cells he orders
ecclesiastical vestments to be brought,
and he puts them on, and is delighted
to present the decorous mien of a priest or friar.
Happy are all who believe,
and who, like the emperor Lord Manuel, expire
outfitted most decorously in their faith.
[1905; 1916]
In the Church
I love the church—its labara,
the silver of its vessels, its candelabra,
the lights, its icons, its lectern.
When I enter there, inside of a Greek Church:
with the aromas of its incenses,
the liturgical chanting and harmonies,
the magnificent appearance of the priests,
and the rhythm of their every movement—
resplendent in their ornate vestments—
my thoughts turn to the great glories of our race,
to our Byzantium, illustrious.
[1892; 1901; 1906; 1912?]
Very Rarely
He’s an old man. Worn out and stooped,
crippled by years, and by excess,
stepping slowly, he moves along the alleyway.
But when he goes inside his house to hide
his pitiful state, and his old age, he considers
the share that he—he—still has in youth.
Youths recite his verses now.
His visions pass before their animated eyes.
Their healthy, sensuous minds,
their well-limned, solid flesh,
stir to his own expression of the beautiful.
[1911; 1913]
In Stock
He wrapped them up carefully, neatly
in green silken cloth, very costly.
Roses from rubies, pearls into lilies,
amethyst violets. Lovely the way that he sees,
and judges, and wanted them; not in the way
he saw them in nature, or studied them. He’ll put them away,
in the safe: a sample of his daring, skillful work.
Whenever a customer comes into the store,
he takes other jewels from the cases to sell—fabulous things—
bracelets, chains, necklaces, rings.
[1912; 1913]
Painted
To my craft I am attentive, and I love it.
But today I’m discouraged by the slow pace of the work.
My mood depends upon the day. It looks
increasingly dark. Constantly windy and raining.
What I long for is to see, and not to speak.
In this painting, now, I’m gazing at
a lovely boy who’s lain down near a spring;
it could be that he’s worn himself out from running.
What a lovely boy; what a divine afternoon
has caught him and put him to sleep.—
Like this, for some time, I sit and gaze.
And once again, in art, I recover from creating it.
[1914; 1916]
Morning Sea
Here
