Constantine P. Cavafy (29 April 1863 – 29 April 1933 / Alexandria)
Just because we've torn their statues down,
and cast them from their temples,
doesn't for a moment mean the gods are dead.
Land of Ionia, they love you yet,
their spirits still remember you.
When an August morning breaks upon you
a vigour from their lives stabs through your air;
and sometimes an ethereal and youthful form
in swiftest passage, indistinct,
passes up above your hills.
Comments about this poem (Ionian by Constantine P. Cavafy )
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