The Odysseys of Homer, together with the shorter poems · Homer
ANOTHER ARGUMENT
And on the sacredly-enflam’d, for wine, Pour’d purest water, all the parts divine Spitting and roasting; all the rites beside Orderly using. Then did light divide My low and upper lids; when, my repair Made near my ship, I met the delicate air Their roast exhal’d; out instantly I cried, And said: ‘O Jove, and all ye Deified, Ye have oppress’d me with a cruel sleep, While ye conferr’d on me a loss as deep As Death descends to. To themselves alone My rude men left ungovern’d, they have done A deed so impious, I stand well assur’d, That you will not forgive though ye procur’d.’ Then flew Lampetié with the ample robe Up to her father with the golden globe, Ambassadress t’ inform him that my men Had slain his oxen. Heart-incensed then, He cried: ‘Revenge me, Father, and the rest Both ever-living and for ever blest! Ulysses’ impious men have drawn the blood Of those my oxen that it did me good To look on, walking all my starry round, And when I trod earth all with meadows crown’d. Without your full amends I’ll leave heav’n quite, Dis and the dead adorning with my light.’ The Cloud-herd answer’d: ‘Son! Thou shalt be ours, And light those mortals in that mine of flow’rs!
My red-hot flash shall graze but on their ship, And eat it, burning, in the boiling deep.’ This by Calypso I was told, and she Inform’d it from the verger Mercury. Come to our ship, I chid and told by name Each man how impiously he was to blame. But chiding got no peace, and beeves were slain! When straight the Gods forewent their following pain With dire ostents. The hides the flesh had lost Crept all before them. As the flesh did roast, It bellow’d like the ox itself alive. And yet my soldiers did their dead beeves drive Through all these prodigies in daily feasts. Six days they banqueted and slew fresh beasts; And when the sev’nth day Jove reduc’d the wind That all the month rag’d, and so in did bind Our ship and us, was turn’d and calm’d, and we Launch’d, put up masts, sails hoised, and to sea.
The island left so far that land nowhere But only sea and sky had pow’r t’ appear, Jove fix’d a cloud above our ship, so black That all the sea it darken’d. Yet from wrack She ran a good free time, till from the West Came Zephyr ruffling forth, and put his breast Out in a singing tempest, so most vast It burst the gables that made sure our mast. Our masts came tumbling down, our cattle down Rush’d to the pump, and by our pilot’s crown The main-mast pass’d his fall, pash’d all his skull, And all this wrack but one flaw made at full. Off from the stern the sternsman diving fell, And from his sinews flew his soul to hell. Together all this time Jove’s thunder chid, And through and through the ship his lightning glid, Till it embrac’d her round; her bulk was fill’d With nasty sulphur, and her men were kill’d, Tumbled to sea, like sea-mews swum about, And there the date of their return was out.
I toss’d from side to side still, till all-broke Her ribs were with the storm, and she did choke With let-in surges; for the mast torn down Tore her up piecemeal, and for me to drown Left little undissolv’d. But to the mast There was a leather thong left, which I cast About it and the keel, and so sat tost With baneful weather, till the West had lost His stormy tyranny. And then arose The South, that bred me more abhorréd woes; For back again his blasts expell’d me quite On ravenous Charybdis. All that night I totter’d up and down, till Light and I At Scylla’s rock encounter’d, and the nigh Dreadful Charybdis. As I drave on these, I saw Charybdis supping up the seas, And had gone up together, if the tree That bore the wild figs had not rescued me; To which I leap’d, and left my keel, and high Chamb’ring upon it did as close imply My breast about it as a reremouse could; Yet might my feet on no stub fasten hold To ease my hands, the roots were crept so low Beneath the earth, and so aloft did grow The far-spread arms that, though good height I gat, I could not reach them.
To the main bole flat I, therefore, still must cling; till up again She belch’d my mast, and after that amain My keel came tumbling. So at length it chanc’d To me, as to a judge that long advanc’d To judge a sort of hot young fellows’ jars, At length time frees him from their civil wars, When glad he riseth and to dinner goes; So time, at length, releas’d with joys my woes, And from Charybdis’ mouth appear’d my keel. To which, my hand now loos’d and now my heel, I altogether with a huge noise dropp’d, Just in her midst fell, where the mast was propp’d, And there row’d off with owers of my hands. God and man’s Father would not from her sands Let Scylla see me, for I then had died That bitter death that my poor friends supplied. Nine days at sea I hover’d; the tenth night In th’ isle Ogygia, where, about the bright And right renown’d Calypso, I was cast By pow’r of Deity; where I lived embrac’d With love and feasts. But why should I relate Those kind occurrents? I should iterate What I in part to your chaste queen and you So late imparted. And, for me to grow A talker-over of my tale again, Were past my free contentment to sustain.”
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.