Here I'm not the Kleon famous in Alexandria
(where they're not easily dazzled)
for my marvelous houses, my gardens,
for my horses and chariots,
for the jewels and silks I wore.
Far from it-here I'm not that Kleon:
his twenty-eight years are to be wiped out.
I'm Ignatios, lector, who came to his senses very late;
but even so, in that way I lived ten happy months
in the peace, the security of Christ.
Tomb Of Ignatos
Constantine P. Cavafy
(1)
Poem topics: happy, peace, security, marvelous, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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