Friday, September 16, 2005

The windows

In these darkened rooms, where I spend
oppressive 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.

--Constantine P Cavafy

1 comment:

kuffir said...

why are you opening someone else's windows ? nice poem.