Homer · a new plain-English translation from the Greek
"Now once our ship had left the river-stream of Ocean and come out into the wave of the wide-wayed sea, to the island of Aeaea, where early Dawn has her house and her dancing-floors, and where the sun rises, we ran the ship up onto the sand and beached her, and we ourselves stepped out onto the breaking surf. There we lay down and slept until the bright dawn came.
"When the early-born Dawn appeared with her rosy fingers, I sent men ahead to Circe's halls to bring back the body of Elpenor, who had died. We cut logs quickly where the shore ran out farthest, and buried him there in sorrow, streaming warm tears. When the corpse had burned, and the armor of the dead man with it, we heaped up a mound, dragged a stone pillar onto it, and planted at the top of the mound his shapely oar.
"We saw to each of these duties in turn. But Circe had not failed to notice that we had come back from the house of Hades — she came to us quickly, dressed and ready, and her handmaids came with her bearing bread and meat in plenty and glowing red wine. The goddess stood among us and spoke.
"'Reckless men, who went down alive into the house of Hades, so that you will die twice over, when other men die only once — come now, eat this food and drink this wine, here, the whole day through, and when dawn shows again you will sail. I myself will point out the way and mark every landmark for you, so that no cruel scheme, on the sea or on the land, may cause you pain and grief.'
"So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded. So for that whole day, until the sun went down, we sat and feasted on unstinting meat and sweet wine. And when the sun set and darkness came on, the men lay down to sleep by the ship's stern cables. But Circe took my hand, led me apart from my dear companions, made me sit down beside her, and asked me everything. And I told it all to her in its proper order.
Then the lady Circe spoke to me and said:
"'All this, then, has been carried through as it should be. Now listen to what I tell you — the god himself will bring it back to your mind. You will come first to the Sirens, who bewitch every man who comes near them. Whoever in his ignorance draws close and hears the voice of the Sirens never again has his wife and little children stand beside him rejoicing at his homecoming — the Sirens enchant him with their clear song as they sit in their meadow, and around them lies a great heap of bones of rotting men, with the skin shriveling upon them. Row past them, and smear the ears of your comrades with sweet beeswax you have kneaded soft, so that none of the others may hear. But you yourself, if you wish to listen, have them bind you hand and foot upright against the mast-block, with the rope-ends made fast to the mast itself, so that you may listen and take pleasure in the voice of the two Sirens. And if you beg your comrades and order them to set you free, let them bind you then with even more turns of rope.
"'Now once your comrades have rowed the ship past the Sirens, I will not go on and tell you in detail which of two paths lies ahead — you must decide that for yourself in your own heart. But I will describe both to you. On the one side stand overhanging cliffs, and against them the great wave of dark-eyed Amphitrite roars and crashes — the blessed gods call these the Wandering Rocks. No winged thing passes that way, not even the trembling doves that carry ambrosia to father Zeus — the smooth rock always snatches one of them away, and the father sends another to keep their number whole. No ship of men that comes there has ever escaped — the waves of the sea and blasts of ruinous fire sweep along together the planks of ships and the bodies of men. Only one seagoing ship has ever sailed past that way, the Argo, sung by every poet, on her way home from Aeetes' land — and even she would have been dashed there against the great rocks, but Hera sent her safely through, for she loved Jason.
"'On the other course stand two great crags. One of them reaches up with a sharp peak into the wide sky, and a dark cloud surrounds it always — it never clears, and no bright sky ever holds that peak, not in summer nor in harvest-time. No mortal man could climb it or set foot upon it, not even if he had twenty hands and twenty feet, for the rock is smooth, as if it had been polished. Halfway up that crag is a dim cave, facing west toward Erebus — the very course, glorious Odysseus, along which you must steer your hollow ship. Not even a strong man shooting from a hollow ship below could reach that cave with an arrow. In it lives Scylla, yelping her terrible cry. Her voice, indeed, is no louder than that of a newborn pup, but she herself is a monstrous horror — no one could look on her gladly, not even a god who met her. She has twelve feet, all of them dangling, and six long necks, and on each neck a horrible head, and in each head three rows of teeth, thick-set and close, full of black death. Her middle is sunk down inside the hollow cave, but she holds her heads out beyond the terrible pit, and there she fishes, groping all around the crag for dolphins and dogfish, and whatever bigger thing she may catch, of the countless creatures loud-groaning Amphitrite feeds. No sailors yet have boasted that they passed her by unharmed in their ship — with each of her heads she snatches away a man from the dark-prowed vessel and carries him off.
"'The other crag you will see is lower, Odysseus — the two lie close to one another, so close you could shoot an arrow across. On it stands a great fig tree, thick with leaves, and beneath it divine Charybdis sucks down the black water. Three times a day she spews it out, and three times she sucks it down again, terribly — may you never be there when she sucks it down, for not even the Earth-Shaker could pull you free from that disaster. No, drive your ship close by Scylla's crag instead, and row past swiftly, since it is far better to lose six comrades from your ship than all of them together.'
"So she spoke, and I answered her and said:
"'Come, goddess, tell me the truth of this — is there some way I might escape deadly Charybdis, and also fight off the other one, when she comes to prey on my comrades?'
"So I spoke, and the shining goddess answered at once:
"'Reckless man, once again your heart is set on deeds of war and hard struggle. Will you not yield even to the deathless gods? She is no mortal thing but an undying horror, dreadful and grievous and savage, not to be fought — there is no defense against her; to flee is the only strength worth having. If you linger there arming yourself beside the rock, I fear she will dart out again and seize you with as many heads as before, and snatch as many men. No — row past with all your strength, and call upon Crataiis, Scylla's mother, who bore her as a plague to mortal men; she will keep her from lunging out again after that.
"'Then you will come to the island of Thrinacia, where the many cattle of the Sun graze, and his fat flocks — seven herds of cattle and as many fine flocks of sheep, fifty animals in each. They bear no young, and they never die, and their shepherds are goddesses, nymphs with lovely hair, Phaethusa and Lampetia, whom shining Neaera bore to Helios Hyperion. Their mother reared them and bore them and then settled them on the island of Thrinacia, far away, to live there and guard their father's sheep and their shambling cattle. If you leave these unharmed and keep your mind on your homecoming, you may yet reach Ithaca, though after much suffering. But if you harm them, then I foretell ruin for your ship and your comrades, and even if you yourself escape, you will come home late and in misery, having lost all your companions.'
"So she spoke, and at once golden-throned Dawn arrived. Then the goddess went off up the island. And I went to the ship and roused my comrades to come aboard themselves and loosen the stern cables. They climbed aboard quickly and sat down at the oarlocks, and sitting in their rows they struck the gray sea with their oars.
Circe of the lovely hair, the dread goddess who speaks with human voice, sent behind our dark-prowed ship a following wind, a good companion, filling our sail. We saw to all the ship's gear and sat down, and the wind and the helmsman held her steady on course.
"Then, my heart heavy, I spoke to my comrades and said:
"'Friends, it is not right that only one of us, or only two, should know the prophecies Circe told me, the shining goddess. No, I will tell them to all of you, so that whether we die or escape death and doom, we may know it beforehand. First she told us to avoid the voice of the wondrous Sirens, and their flowering meadow. I alone, she said, should hear their voice — but you must bind me in a painful knot, so that I stay fixed to the spot, upright against the mast-block, the rope-ends made fast to the mast itself. And if I beg you and order you to set me free, you must bind me tighter still, with more turns of rope.'
"So I spoke, telling my comrades each thing in turn. Meanwhile our well-built ship came quickly to the island of the two Sirens, for a gentle wind was driving her on. But then all at once the wind dropped, and a windless calm fell over the sea — some god lulled the waves to rest. My comrades stood up and furled the ship's sail, and stowed it inside the hollow ship, and then sat down at the oars and churned the water white with their polished blades of pine.
"Then I took a great round cake of beeswax and cut it into small pieces with my sharp bronze blade, and pressed the pieces in my strong hands. Soon the wax grew warm and softened, worked by the strength of my grip and by the burning rays of lord Helios Hyperion's son, and one by one I smeared it into the ears of all my comrades. They in turn bound me hand and foot together, upright against the mast-block, with the rope-ends made fast to the mast itself, and sat down again and struck the gray sea with their oars.
"But when we were as far off as a man's shout can carry, driving swiftly onward, the Sirens did not fail to notice the swift ship drawing near, and they raised their clear song.
"'Come here, famous Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans, bring your ship to a stop, so that you may hear our voice. No man has ever yet rowed his black ship past this place without staying to hear the honeyed sound from our lips — rather he goes on his way delighted, and knowing more than before. For we know all the hardships that the Argives and Trojans suffered in wide Troy by the will of the gods, and we know everything that comes to pass on the fruitful earth.'
"So they sang, sending out their beautiful voice, and my heart longed to listen, and I signaled to my comrades with my brows to set me free — but they bent to the oars and rowed on harder. At once Perimedes and Eurylochus stood up and bound me with still more rope, drawing it tighter. And when they had rowed the ship well past the Sirens, and we could no longer hear their voice or their song, my loyal comrades at once took the wax from their ears, which I had smeared there, and untied me from my bonds.
"But no sooner had we left that island behind than I saw smoke and a great wave, and heard a roaring crash. My men were terrified, and the oars flew from their hands — all of them clattered down along the current, and the ship stood still, since the men no longer drove her forward with their oars. So I went the length of the ship, rousing my comrades, standing beside each man in turn with gentle words.
"'Friends, we are surely not unfamiliar with hardship — this danger is no greater than when the Cyclops penned us by brute force in his hollow cave. Yet even from there my courage and cunning and quick wit brought us out safely, and I think we will remember this day too, some time to come. Come now, let us all do as I say. You, sit at your benches and strike the deep breakers of the sea with your oars, in hopes that Zeus may grant us to escape this destruction and get clear of it. And you, helmsman, I charge you with this — hold it fixed in your mind, since you handle the steering-oar of our hollow ship: keep the ship clear of that smoke and that wave, and hug the crag instead, or else she may swing off toward the other side before you know it, and you will drive us all to ruin.'
"So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words. But I did not tell them about Scylla, that thing no one could fight off, for fear my comrades might grow so frightened that they would stop rowing and huddle together below deck. And at that moment I forgot Circe's painful order not to arm myself at all — instead I put on my splendid armor, took two long spears in my hands, and went up onto the half-deck at the bow, since I expected Scylla of the rock to appear from there first, bringing pain to my comrades. But I could not catch sight of her anywhere — my eyes grew tired scanning every part of the misty crag.
"So we sailed up the narrow strait, groaning in fear — on one side lay Scylla, and on the other divine Charybdis terribly sucked down the salt water of the sea. Whenever she spewed it out, she would churn and roar like a cauldron over a great fire, and the spray would fly up and fall on the tops of both crags on either side. But whenever she sucked down the salt water of the sea, the whole inside of her showed churning, and the rock around her roared terribly, and the sea floor showed beneath, dark with sand — and pale terror seized my men. As we looked toward her, dreading destruction, in that instant Scylla snatched six of my comrades out of the hollow ship, the strongest of them in hands and strength.
"Looking back to the swift ship and to my comrades, I caught sight of their feet and hands already being lifted high above me, and they cried out to me, calling my name one last time, their hearts breaking with grief. Just as a fisherman on a jutting rock, with a long rod, casts his bait to lure small fish, throwing out into the sea his line tipped with the horn of an ox from the field, and then, catching one that struggles, flings it up onto the shore — so those men were lifted struggling up toward the rocks, and there at her doorway she devoured them, screaming and stretching out their hands to me in their terrible death-struggle. That was the most pitiful thing my eyes have seen in all my sufferings while searching out the pathways of the sea.
"Once we had escaped the rocks, and dreadful Charybdis, and Scylla, we soon came to the blameless island of the god, where the fine broad-browed cattle and the many fat flocks of Helios Hyperion were kept. While I was still out at sea in my black ship, I heard the lowing of penned cattle and the bleating of sheep, and the words of the blind prophet came back to my mind, Theban Tiresias, and of Circe of Aeaea, who had charged me again and again to avoid the island of Helios, joy of mortals. So, my heart heavy, I spoke to my comrades and said:
"'Hear my words, comrades, for all your hardships, so that I may tell you the prophecies of Tiresias and of Circe of Aeaea, who charged me again and again to avoid the island of Helios, joy of mortals — for she said the worst evil for us lay there. No, row the black ship on, past the island.'
"So I spoke, and their hearts were broken within them. And Eurylochus answered me at once with hateful words.
"'You are a hard man, Odysseus — your strength never fails, and your limbs never tire; you must be forged entirely of iron, that you will not let your comrades, worn out with toil and lack of sleep, set foot on land, where on this island washed by the sea we might once more prepare ourselves a welcome meal — instead you tell us to wander on, just as we are, through the swift night, driven off from the island onto the misty sea. Out of the night come harsh winds, the ruin of ships — how could a man escape sheer destruction, if a sudden storm-blast should come up, whether from the South Wind or blustering West Wind, the very winds that wreck ships most of all, against the will of the gods, our masters? No — let us give way now to the black night, and make our meal here, staying beside our swift ship, and at dawn we will go aboard and put out onto the open sea.'
"So spoke Eurylochus, and the rest of my comrades agreed. Then I knew that some god was planning trouble for us, and I spoke to him and said in winged words:
"'Eurylochus, you all overpower me now, one man against you all. But come, all of you, swear me a solemn oath — that if we find some herd of cattle or great flock of sheep, no one, in his reckless folly..."
"'Or kill some ox or sheep — no, stay calm and eat the food the immortal Circe gave us.'
"So I said, and they swore at once, just as I told them. When they had sworn and finished the oath, we moored our well-built ship in the hollow harbor near a spring of sweet water, and the crew went ashore and made their supper with skill. But once they had put away their hunger for food and drink, they remembered their dear companions and wept for them — those Scylla had snatched from the hollow ship and devoured. And as they wept, sweet sleep came over them.
When it was the third watch of the night and the stars had wheeled past their height, Zeus who gathers the clouds roused a furious wind against us in a terrible squall, and covered land and sea alike with clouds; night rose up out of the sky. When early Dawn appeared with her rose-red fingers, we hauled the ship into a hollow cave and moored her there, where there were fine dancing-floors and seats of the nymphs. Then I called the men together and spoke among them:
"'Friends, since we still have food and drink aboard the swift ship, let us keep our hands off these cattle, so that we come to no harm. For these belong to a dread god — cattle and fat sheep alike — to Helios, who watches everything and hears everything.'
"So I said, and their proud hearts agreed. But for a whole month the South Wind blew without ceasing, and no other wind rose after it except the East and the South. As long as the men had bread and red wine they held off from the cattle, for they wanted to live. But when the ship's stores were all used up, and hunger drove them to range the island hunting whatever came to hand — fish, birds, anything their hands could catch on bent hooks, for their bellies were pinched with famine — then I went off across the island to pray to the gods, hoping one of them might show me a way home. And when I had crossed the island and left my men behind, I washed my hands where there was shelter from the wind, and prayed to all the gods who hold Olympus. And they poured sweet sleep down over my eyelids.
Meanwhile Eurylochus was urging a wicked plan on the men:
"'Listen to me, friends, hard as your suffering has been. Every kind of death is hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger, to meet that fate, is the most pitiful of all. Come, then — let us drive off the best of Helios's cattle and sacrifice them to the immortals who hold the wide heaven. And if we ever reach Ithaca, our homeland, we will at once build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion, and set in it many fine offerings. But if he is angered over his straight-horned cattle and wants to destroy our ship, and the other gods go along with him, I would rather lose my life at once, gulping down the wave, than waste away slowly on this desolate island.'
"So spoke Eurylochus, and the other men agreed with him. At once they drove off the best of Helios's cattle — they were grazing nearby, for the dark-prowed ship was not far off, those handsome, broad-browed cattle with curving horns. The men stood around them and prayed to the gods, plucking tender leaves from a high-crowned oak, since they had no white barley left on the well-benched ship. And when they had prayed and cut the throats and flayed the cattle, they cut out the thighbones and wrapped them in a double layer of fat, and laid raw strips of meat over them.
They had no wine to pour over the blazing offering, so they poured libations of water instead, and roasted all the entrails. When the thighs were burned and they had tasted the innards, they cut up the rest of the meat and skewered it on spits.
It was then that sweet sleep slipped from my eyelids, and I set off back toward the swift ship and the shore of the sea. But as I came near the curved ship, the sweet smell of roasting fat drifted around me. Groaning, I cried out loud to the immortal gods:
"'Father Zeus, and all you other blessed gods who live forever — you lulled me with that pitiless sleep to my ruin! My companions, left behind, have plotted and carried out a monstrous deed.'
"Quickly Lampetie of the trailing robes carried the news to Helios Hyperion, that we had killed his cattle. At once he spoke among the immortals, his heart full of anger:
"'Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever, punish the companions of Odysseus, son of Laertes — they have insolently killed my cattle, the very cattle that gave me joy whenever I climbed the starry sky, and again when I turned back down from heaven toward the earth. If they do not pay me a fitting price for my cattle, I will go down into the house of Hades and shine among the dead instead.'
"Zeus who gathers the clouds answered him and said:
"'Helios, shine on as you always do among the immortals and among mortal men on the grain-giving earth. As for those men, I will soon strike their swift ship with a flashing bolt and shatter it to pieces in the midst of the wine-dark sea.'
"I heard this from Calypso of the lovely hair, and she said she herself had heard it from Hermes the guide.
"When I came back down to the ship and the sea, I confronted the men one after another, but there was no remedy to be found — the cattle were already dead. And soon after, the gods began showing us signs and wonders: the hides crawled, and the meat on the spits bellowed, both roasted and raw, and there came a sound like the lowing of cattle.
"For six days my trusted companions feasted on the best of Helios's cattle. But when Zeus, son of Cronus, brought on the seventh day, the wind finally stopped its furious blowing, and we went aboard at once and put out onto the wide sea, raising the mast and hoisting the white sails.
"But when we had left that island behind, and no other land was in sight, nothing but sky and sea, then the son of Cronus set a dark cloud over the hollow ship, and the sea grew murky beneath it. She ran on for no great while, for suddenly the West Wind came shrieking down in a great squall, and the blast of wind snapped both the forestays of the mast; the mast fell backward, and all its rigging
spilled into the bilge. At the stern of the ship it struck the helmsman on the head and crushed the bones of his skull all at once, and he dropped from the deck like a diver, and his proud spirit left his bones. Then Zeus thundered and hurled his bolt into the ship; struck by the lightning of Zeus, she reeled all over, and filled with sulfurous smoke, and the men fell from the ship. Like sea-crows they were tossed about the black ship on the waves, and the god took from them their homecoming.
"But I kept pacing the ship's length, until the sea
tore the sides from the keel, and the wave carried her along stripped bare; it snapped the mast off at the keel. But a backstay had been thrown over the mast, made of ox-hide, and with this I lashed the two together, keel and mast, and sitting astride them I was carried along by the deadly winds.
"Then the West Wind ceased its furious blowing, but soon the South Wind came on swiftly, bringing fresh grief to my heart, for it meant I must measure again that deadly stretch back to Charybdis. All night I was swept along, and at sunrise I came to the cliff of Scylla and to dread Charybdis.
She was just then sucking down the salt water of the sea; but I sprang up to the tall fig tree and clung to it like a bat. I could find no place to plant my feet firmly or climb up, for the roots stretched far below and the branches hung high overhead, long and huge, overshadowing Charybdis. I held on grimly, waiting for her to spew back up the mast and keel — and to my longing, they came at last,
late, at the hour when a man rises from the assembly for his supper, having judged the many quarrels of quarreling young men — that was the hour the timbers reappeared from Charybdis. I let go my hands and feet from above and dropped, and fell with a splash beside the long timbers, and sitting astride them I rowed with my hands. But the father of gods and men did not let Scylla catch sight of me again — otherwise I would not have escaped sheer destruction.
"From there I drifted nine days, and on the tenth night the gods brought me to the island of Ogygia, where fair-haired Calypso lives, a dread goddess with a human voice, who took me in and cared for me. But why should I tell this tale again?
For I told it already yesterday in the house, to you and to your noble wife, and it is tiresome to me to repeat plainly what has already been told."