Alexendria, Egypt 2009/10/1
You said: “I’ll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart lies buried like something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I’ve spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally.”
You won’t find a new country, won’t find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You’ll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
You’ll always end up in this city. Don’t hope for things elsewhere:
there’s no ship for you, there’s no road.
Now that you’ve wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world.
Translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
Though after few days I can write in Chinese again, but there's still one city, one poet haunting in my mind, I can't help but write them down here: the city is Alexendria, the place full of faded glories by the sea. The poet is Cavafy, a Greek lived in Alexendria whole his life.
I read his poems and visited the house he used to live by chance, echos from the past seemed calling me, waking me up every night.
After those days, I got my old soul back home.
House of Cavafy
Alex, as it is called by locals.