Η ΑΛΕΞΑΝΔΡΕΙΑ ΠΟΥ ΦΕΥΓΕΙ
(του Κωνσταντίνου Καβάφη, «Ἀπολείπειν ὁ Θεός Ἀντώνιον»)
Σάν ἔξαφνα, ὥρα μεσάνυχτ’, ἀκουσθεί
ἀόρατος θίασος νά περνᾶ
μέ μουσικές ἐξαίσιες, μέ φωνές –
τήν τύχη σου πού ἐνδίδει πιά, τά ἔργα σου
πού ἀπέτυχαν, τά σχέδια τῆς ζωῆς σου
πού βγῆκαν ὅλα πλάνες, μή ἀνωφέλετα θρηνήσεις.
Σάν ἕτοιμος ἀπό καιρό, σά θαρραλέος,
ἀποχαιρέτα την, τήν Ἀλεξάνδρεια πού φεύγει.
Προ πάντων νά μή γελασθεῖς, μήν πεῖς πως ἦταν
ἕνα ὄνειρο, πώς ἀπατήθηκεν ἡ ἀκοή σου∙
μάταιες ἐλπίδες τέτοιες μήν καταδεχθεῖς.
Σάν ἕτοιμος ἀπό καιρό, σά θαρραλέος,
σάν που ταιριάζει σε πού ἀξιώθηκες μιά τέτοια πόλι,
πλησίασε σταθερά πρός τό παράθυρο,
κι ἄκουσε μέ συγκίνησιν, ἀλλ’ ὄχι
με τῶν δειλῶν τά παρακάλια και παράπονα,
ὡς τελευταία ἀπόλαυσι τούς ἤχους,
τά ἐξαίσια ὄργανα τοῦ μυστικοῦ θιάσου,
κι ἀποχαιρέτα την, τήν Ἀλεξάνδρεια πού χάνεις.
ἀόρατος θίασος νά περνᾶ
μέ μουσικές ἐξαίσιες, μέ φωνές –
τήν τύχη σου πού ἐνδίδει πιά, τά ἔργα σου
πού ἀπέτυχαν, τά σχέδια τῆς ζωῆς σου
πού βγῆκαν ὅλα πλάνες, μή ἀνωφέλετα θρηνήσεις.
Σάν ἕτοιμος ἀπό καιρό, σά θαρραλέος,
ἀποχαιρέτα την, τήν Ἀλεξάνδρεια πού φεύγει.
Προ πάντων νά μή γελασθεῖς, μήν πεῖς πως ἦταν
ἕνα ὄνειρο, πώς ἀπατήθηκεν ἡ ἀκοή σου∙
μάταιες ἐλπίδες τέτοιες μήν καταδεχθεῖς.
Σάν ἕτοιμος ἀπό καιρό, σά θαρραλέος,
σάν που ταιριάζει σε πού ἀξιώθηκες μιά τέτοια πόλι,
πλησίασε σταθερά πρός τό παράθυρο,
κι ἄκουσε μέ συγκίνησιν, ἀλλ’ ὄχι
με τῶν δειλῶν τά παρακάλια και παράπονα,
ὡς τελευταία ἀπόλαυσι τούς ἤχους,
τά ἐξαίσια ὄργανα τοῦ μυστικοῦ θιάσου,
κι ἀποχαιρέτα την, τήν Ἀλεξάνδρεια πού χάνεις.
Ακούστε παρακάτω τον μεγάλο διανοούμενο τραγουδιστή Leonard Coen, που "έφυγε" πρόσφατα, να τραγουδάει το παραπάνω ποίημα:
Παρακάτω οι στίχοι του ποιήματος στα αγγλικά, στην παραλαγή του τραγουδιού και στο αυθεντικό ποίημα:
Suddenly the night has grown colder. The god of love preparing to depart. Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder, They slip between the sentries of the heart. Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure, They gain the light, they formlessly entwine; And radiant beyond your widest measure They fall among the voices and the wine. It's not a trick, your senses all deceiving, A fitful dream, the morning will exhaust Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving. Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost. Even though she sleeps upon your satin; Even though she wakes you with a kiss. Do not say the moment was imagined; Do not stoop to strategies like this. As someone long prepared for this to happen, Go firmly to the window. Drink it in. Exquisite music. Alexandra laughing. Your firm commitments tangible again. And you who had the honor of her evening, And by the honor had your own restored Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving; Alexandra leaving with her lord. Even though she sleeps upon your satin; Even though she wakes you with a kiss. Do not say the moment was imagined; Do not stoop to strategies like this. As someone long prepared for the occasion; In full command of every plan you wrecked Do not choose a coward's explanation that hides behind the cause and the effect. And you who were bewildered by a meaning; Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving. Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost. Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving. Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.
The poem from C.CAVAFY: The god forsakes Antony When suddenly, at midnight, you hear an invisible procession going by with exquisite music, voices, dont mourn your luck thats failing now, work gone wrong, your plans all proving deceptive—dont mourn them uselessly. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving. Above all, dont fool yourself, dont say it was a dream, your ears deceived you: dont degrade yourself with empty hopes like these. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, as is right for you who were given this kind of city, go firmly to the window and listen with deep emotion, but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward; listen—your final delectation—to the voices, to the exquisite music of that strange procession, and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing. - Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)
Παρακάτω οι στίχοι του ποιήματος στα αγγλικά, στην παραλαγή του τραγουδιού και στο αυθεντικό ποίημα:
Suddenly the night has grown colder. The god of love preparing to depart. Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder, They slip between the sentries of the heart. Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure, They gain the light, they formlessly entwine; And radiant beyond your widest measure They fall among the voices and the wine. It's not a trick, your senses all deceiving, A fitful dream, the morning will exhaust Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving. Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost. Even though she sleeps upon your satin; Even though she wakes you with a kiss. Do not say the moment was imagined; Do not stoop to strategies like this. As someone long prepared for this to happen, Go firmly to the window. Drink it in. Exquisite music. Alexandra laughing. Your firm commitments tangible again. And you who had the honor of her evening, And by the honor had your own restored Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving; Alexandra leaving with her lord. Even though she sleeps upon your satin; Even though she wakes you with a kiss. Do not say the moment was imagined; Do not stoop to strategies like this. As someone long prepared for the occasion; In full command of every plan you wrecked Do not choose a coward's explanation that hides behind the cause and the effect. And you who were bewildered by a meaning; Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving. Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost. Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving. Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.
The poem from C.CAVAFY: The god forsakes Antony When suddenly, at midnight, you hear an invisible procession going by with exquisite music, voices, dont mourn your luck thats failing now, work gone wrong, your plans all proving deceptive—dont mourn them uselessly. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, say goodbye to her, the Alexandria that is leaving. Above all, dont fool yourself, dont say it was a dream, your ears deceived you: dont degrade yourself with empty hopes like these. As one long prepared, and graced with courage, as is right for you who were given this kind of city, go firmly to the window and listen with deep emotion, but not with the whining, the pleas of a coward; listen—your final delectation—to the voices, to the exquisite music of that strange procession, and say goodbye to her, to the Alexandria you are losing. - Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)
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