C. P. Cavafy - Alexandrian Kings (1)
Translated from the Greek by Theoharis C. Theoharis
The Alexandrians flocked
to view the children of Cleopatra,
Kaisarion and his little brothers,
Alexander and Ptolemy, who for the first time
had been brought out to the Gymnasium,
to be proclaimed kings there,
amidst the gleaming company of soldiers on parade.
Alexander—him they named king
of Armenia, Media, and the Parthians.
Ptolemy—him they named king
of Cilicia, Syria, and Phoenicia.
Kaisarion was standing furthest forward,
dressed in rose-toned silk,
on his belt paired lines of sapphires and amethysts,
his shoes laced by white
ribbons pinned with rose-blush pearls.
Him they named higher than the younger ones,
him they named King of Kings.
The Alexandrians certainly understood
that these were words and histrionics.
But the day was warm and poetic,
the sky a clear, wide blue,
the Alexandrian Gymnasium a
triumphant artistic feat,
the courtiers luxury at its crest,
Kairsarion all grace and beauty
(the son of Cleopatra, blood of the Lagids);
and the Alexandrians raced to the festive name-day,
and worked themselves into raptures, and called out
cheers in Greek, in Egyptian, and some in Hebrew,
enchanted by the lovely spectacle—
even though they very clearly knew the value of these things,
what inane words make up these titled kings.
C. P. Cavafy - Alexandrian Kings (2)
Translated from the Greek by Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard
The Alexandrians turned out in force
to see Cleopatra’s children,
Kairsarion and his little brothers,
Alexander and Ptolemy, who for the first time
has been taken out to the Gymnasium,
to be proclaimed kings there
before a brilliant array of soldiers.
Alexander: they declared him
king of Cilicia, Syria, and Phoenicia.
Kairsarion was standing in front of the others,
dressed in pink silk,
on his chest a bunch of hyacinths,
his belt a double row of amethysts and sapphires,
his shoes tied with white ribbons
prinked with rose-colored pearls.
They declared him greater than his little brothers,
they declared him King of Kings
The Alexandrians know of course
that this was all mere words, all theatre.
But the day was warm and poetic,
the sky a pale blue,
the Alexandrian Gymnasium
a complete artistic triumph,
the courtiers wonderfully sumptous,
Kaisarion all grace and beauty
(Cleopatra’s son, blood of the Lagids);
and the the Alexandrians thronged to the festival
full of enthusiasm and shouted acclamations
in Greek, and Egyptian, and some in Hebrew,
charmed by the lovely spectacle—
though they knew of course what all this was worth,
what empty words they really were, these kingships.
