I love the church: its labara,
its silver vessels, its candleholders,
the lights, the ikons, the pulpit.

Whenever I go there, into a church of the Greeks,
with its aroma of incense,
its liturgical chanting and harmony,
the majestic presence of the priests,
dazzling in their ornate vestments,
the solemn rhythm of their gestures-
my thoughts turn to the great glories of our race,
to the splendor of our Byzantine heritage.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1573 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Constantine P. Cavafy
Poem: In Church

Poem of the Day on:
Apr 1 2005
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