But then I remembered one of my favourite Cavafy poems.
The City
You said, "I will go to another land, I will go to another sea.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."
New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.
Another city will be found, better than this.
Every effort of mine is condemned by fate;
and my heart is -- like a corpse -- buried.
How long in this wasteland will my mind remain.
Wherever I turn my eyes, wherever I may look
I see the black ruins of my life here,
where I spent so many years, and ruined and wasted."
New lands you will not find, you will not find other seas.
The city will follow you. You will roam the same
streets. And you will age in the same neighborhoods;
in these same houses you will grow gray.
Always you will arrive in this city. To another land -- do not hope --
there is no ship for you, there is no road.
As you have ruined your life here
in this little corner, you have destroyed it in the whole world.
-- C P Cavafy, 1910
There's no getting away from a mess that's actually just inside you. Travel is discovery, not escape. Finding, not hiding.
Hmm, this reminds me of some of my favourite lines from Eliot:
ReplyDeleteAnd the end of all our exploring/Will be to arrive where we started/ And know the place for the first time.
Slightly different from what you mean but...
and somehow these lines remind me of Journey of the Magi :)
ReplyDeletei know i know, this is Wasteland (not that i remembered, i googled, imagine)
...but i guess this thing of life being paralleled to journeys has been a recurrent theme through literature, right?
in paradise lost, satan says something to the effect of
ReplyDeleteme miserable where do i fly
whereever i fly, i carry my hell with me
the poem is beautiful...
wow, satan really is such a fascinating character :)
ReplyDeleteloved the poem. there is no getting away from the mess inside but some places definitely have the power to make you feel better. Home is one of them. Temples for instance, for some of us, are other such places. Then there are certain people :)
ReplyDelete