An Old Man

An Old Man

by Constantine P. Cavafy

In the inner space of the loud café
bented over the table an old man sits
with a newspaper in front of him, without company.

And amidst the wretched contempt of old age,
he thinks about how little he enjoyed the years
when he had strength, nice words, and beauty.

He knows that he has grown very old; he feels it, he looks at it.
And yet the time when he was young seems
like yesterday. What a short time, what a short time.

And Phronesis reflects on how she used to laugh at him;
and how she always trusted her —what a madness!—
the liar who said, “Tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”

She remembers the impulses she endured; and how much
joy she sacrificed. His mindless knowledge
she now mocks of every lost opportunity.

… But from thinking and remembering too much
the old man became dizzy. And he fell asleep
in the cafe, leaning against the table.