By C. P. Cavafy, Translated by Aliki Barnstone
He wrapped them carefully and tidily in precious green silk.
The years of my youth, my sensual life—how clearly I see their meaning now.
Winter and summer the watchman sat on the roof of the palace of Atreidas and looked out. Now he tells the joyful news. He saw a fire flare in the distance.
Ah, these nights of January when I sit recreating our moments in my mind and I meet you