Eagles of coral adorn the ebony bed where Nero lies fast asleep— callous, peaceful, happy, in the prime of his body’s strength, in the fine vigor of youth. But in the alabaster hall that holds the ancient shrine of the Aenobarbi how restless the household gods— they tremble, the little Lares, and try to hide their insignificant bodies. They’ve heard a terrible sound, a deadly sound coming up the stairs, iron footsteps that shake the staircase; and now faint with fear, the miserable Lares scramble to the back of the shrine, shoving each other and stumbling, one little god falling over another, because they know what kind of sound that is, know by now the footsteps of the Furies.
Reprinted from C.P. CAVAFY: Collected Poems Revised Edition, translated by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard, edited by George Savidis. Translation copyright © 1975, 1992 by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard. Princeton University Press. For reuse of these translations, please contact Princeton University Press.
The Canon