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.

Added: Feb 20 2003 | Viewed: 1222 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Constantine P. Cavafy
Poem: The Windows

Year: Published/Written in 1903
Poem of the Day on:
Apr 5 2005
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