Half past twelve. Time has gone by quickly <br />since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp <br />and sat down here. I've been sitting without reading, <br />without speaking. Completely alone in the house, <br />whom could I talk to? <br /> <br />Since nine o'clock when I lit the lamp <br />the shade of my young body <br />has come to haunt me, to remind me <br />of shut scented rooms, <br />of past sensual pleasure - what daring pleasure. <br />And it's also brought back to me <br />streets now unrecognizable, <br />bustling night clubs now closed, <br />theatres and cafes no longer here. <br /> <br />The shade of my young body <br />also brought back the things that make us sad: <br />family grief, separations, <br />the feelings of my own people, feelings <br />of the dead so little acknowledged. <br /> <br />Half past twelve. How the time has gone by. <br />Half past twelve. How the years have gone by.<br /><br />Constantine P. Cavafy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/since-nine-o-clock/
