Priest At The Serapeion
My kind old father
whose love for me has always stayed the same
I mourn my kind old father
who died two days ago, just before dawn.
Jesus Christ, I try continually
in my every thought, word, and deed
to keep the commandments
of your most holly Church; and I reject
all who deny you. But now I mourn:
I grieve, O Christ, for my father
even though he was -terrible as it is to say it
priest at that cursed Serapeion.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Added by Poetry Lover
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