{"product_id":"the-odyssey-of-homer-isbn-9780553213997","title":"The Odyssey of Homer","description":"\u003cb\u003eA stunning verse translation of Homer’s epic tale about one man’s decade-long struggle to return home after years on the battlefields of Troy, from National Book Award–winning translator Allen Mandelbaum\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e“Muse, tell me of the man of many wiles . . .”\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo begins one of the greatest adventures of world literature. Homer’s epic chronicle of the Greek hero Odysseus’ journey home from the Trojan War has inspired writers from Virgil to James Joyce. Odysseus survives storm and shipwreck, the cave of the Cyclops and the isle of Circe, the lure of the Sirens’ song and a trip to the Underworld, only to find his most difficult challenge at home, where treacherous suitors seek to steal his kingdom and his loyal wife, Penelope.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAllen Mandelbaum’s brilliant verse translation realizes the power and the beauty of the original Greek and demonstrates why the \u003ci\u003eOdyssey \u003c\/i\u003ehas captured the human imagination for nearly three thousand years.“A splendid achievement outstripping all competitors.”\u003cb\u003e—Anthony A. Long, author of \u003ci\u003eHellenistic Philosophy\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“With real poetic power . . . his book is one no lover of living poetry should miss.”\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eHomer \u003c\/b\u003ewas a Greek poet, recognized as the author of the great epics, the\u003ci\u003e Iliad\u003c\/i\u003e, the story of the siege of Troy, and the \u003ci\u003eOdyssey\u003c\/i\u003e, the tale of Ulysses’s wanderings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eAllen Mandelbaum \u003c\/b\u003ewas born in 1926 and died in 2011. His translations of Homer, Dante, Virgil, Quasimodo, and Ungaretti were all published to great acclaim. His rendering of \u003ci\u003eThe Aeneid \u003c\/i\u003ewon the National Book Award. He was the William R. Kenan Jr. Professor of Humanities at Wake Forest University, North Carolina.Book I\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo the Muse.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe anger of Poseidon.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn Poseidon's absence,\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea gathering of the gods in Zeus' halls on Olympus.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena's plea for help for the stranded Odysseus;\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZeus' consent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena in the guise of Méntës visits Ithaca.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer advice to Telémachus:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe is to confront the Ithacan elders\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith the problem of the suitors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand to leave Ithaca to search\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor news of his father.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePenelope's appearance among the suitors.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer silencing of Phémius the singer.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTelémachus and the suitors:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etheir sharp exchange.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNightfall:\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTelémachus and his old nurse, Eurycle*¯¯a.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMuse, tell me of the man of many wiles,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe man who wandered many paths of exile*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eafter he sacked Troy's sacred citadel.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe saw the cities-mapped the minds-of many;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand on the sea, his spirit suffered every*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eadversity-to keep his life intact;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto bring his comrades back. In that last task,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis will was firm and fast, and yet he failed:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe could not save his comrades. Fools, they foiled*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethemselves: they ate the oxen of the Sun,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe herd of Hélios Hypérion;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe lord of light requited their transgression-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe took away the day of their return.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMuse, tell us of these matters. Daughter of Zeus,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy starting point is any point you choose.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll other Greeks who had been spared the steep*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edescent to death had reached their homes-released*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom war and waves. One man alone was left,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estill longing for his home, his wife, his rest.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor the commanding nymph, the brightest goddess,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCalypso, held him in her hollow grottoes:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe wanted him as husband. Even when*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe wheel of years drew near his destined time-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe time the gods designed for his return*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto Ithaca-he still could not depend*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eupon fair fortune or unfailing friends.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhile other gods took pity on him, one-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePoseidon-still pursued: he preyed upon*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edivine Odysseus until the end,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003euntil the exile found his own dear land.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut now Poseidon was away-his hosts,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe Ethiopians, the most remote*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof men (they live in two divided parts-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehalf, where the sun-god sets; half, where he starts).*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePoseidon, visiting the east, received*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe roasted thighs of bulls and sheep. The feast*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003edelighted him. And there he sat. But all*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis fellow gods were gathered in the halls*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Zeus upon Olympus; there the father*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof men and gods spoke first. His mind upon*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe versatile Aegísthus-whom the son*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Agamemnon, famed Oréstes, killed-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe shared this musing with the deathless ones:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Men are so quick to blame the gods: they say*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat we devise their misery. But they*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethemselves-in their depravity-design*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egrief greater than the griefs that fate assigns.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSo did Aegísthus act when he transgressed*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe boundaries that fate and reason set.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe took the lawful wife of Agamemnon;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand when the son of Átreus had come back,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAegísthus murdered him-although he knew*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow steep was that descent. For we'd sent Hermes,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eour swiftest, our most keen-eyed emissary,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto warn against that murder and adultery:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e'Oréstes will avenge his father when,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis manhood come, he claims his rightful land.'*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHermes had warned him as one warns a friend.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd yet Aegísthus' will could not be swayed.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, in one stroke, all that he owes is paid.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena, gray-eyed goddess, answered Zeus:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Our father, Cronos' son, you, lord of lords,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAegísthus died the death that he deserved.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMay death like his strike all who ape his sins.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut brave Odysseus' fate does break my heart:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elong since, in misery he suffers, far*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom friends, upon an island in the deep-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea site just at the navel of the sea.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd there, upon that island rich in trees,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea goddess has her home: the fair-haired daughter*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof Atlas the malevolent (who knows*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe depths of every sea, for he controls*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe giant column holding earth and sky*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eapart). Calypso, Atlas' daughter, keeps*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe sad Odysseus there-although he weeps.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer words are fond and fragrant, sweet and soft-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eso she would honey him to cast far off*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis Ithaca; but he would rather die*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethan live the life of one denied the sight*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof smoke that rises from his homeland's hearths.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAre you, Olympus' lord, not moved by this?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWas not Odysseus your favorite*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhen, on the spacious plain of Troy, beside*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe Argive ships, he sacrificed to you?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat turned your fondness into malice, Zeus?\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZeus, shepherd of the clouds, replied: \"My daughter,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehow can the barrier of your teeth permit*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esuch speech to cross your lips? Can I forget*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egodlike Odysseus, most astute of men,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhose offerings were so unstinting when*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe sacrificed to the undying gods,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe masters of vast heaven? Rest assured.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnly Poseidon, lord whose chariot runs*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebeneath the earth, is furious-it was*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOdysseus who deprived the grandest Cyclops,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe godlike Polyphémus, of his eye.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e(Thöósa-nymph whose father, Phórcys, keeps*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea close watch on the never-resting deep-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003egave birth to that huge Cyclops after she*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehad lain in her deep sea-cave with Poseidon.)*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd ever since his son was gouged, the god*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewho makes earth tremble, though he does not kill*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOdysseus, will not let him end his exile.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut now we all must think of his return-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof how to bring him home again. Poseidon*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewill set aside his anger; certainly*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe cannot have his way, for he is only*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eone god against us all, and we are many.\"  NNN*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena, gray-eyed goddess, answered him:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Our father, Cronos' son, you, lord of lords,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif now the blessed gods indeed would end*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe wanderings of Odysseus, let us send*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe keen-eyed Hermes to Calypso's isle,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOgy´gia. Let him there at once declare*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto her, the goddess with the lovely hair,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eour undeniable decree: Steadfast*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOdysseus is to find his homeward path.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut I shall make my way to Ithaca*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat once, to give his son the strength to summon*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe long-haired Ithacans; when they assemble*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe can denounce-and scatter-all the suitors:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey are forever slaughtering his sheep,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis shambling oxen with their curving horns.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen off to sandy Pylos and to Sparta*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI'll send him to seek tidings of his father's*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ereturn; he may yet hear some hopeful word-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand men will then commend him for his search.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat said, Athena fastened on fine sandals:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethese-golden, everlasting-carried her*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith swift winds over seas and endless lands.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe goddess took her bronze-tipped battle lance,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eheavy and huge and solid; with this shaft,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe-daughter of so great a force-can smash*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe ranks of warriors who've earned her wrath.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOne leap-and from Olympus' peaks she reached*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe land of Ithaca. She stood before*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOdysseus' door, the threshold of his court.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe gripped the bronze-tipped shaft, and taking on*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe likeness of a stranger, she became*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elord Méntës, chieftain of the Táphians.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe found the braggart suitors at the gate.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDelighting in their dicing, they reclined*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eon hides of oxen they themselves had skinned-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith pages and attendants serving them,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esome mixing wine and water in wide bowls,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhile others washed the tables down with sponges*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand readied them for food, and others still*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estacked meat in heaps on platters-high and full.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe very first to notice Méntës' presence*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewas young Telémachus. He-sad, morose-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esat with the suitors. In his reverie,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe saw his sturdy father-would that he,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ereturning suddenly, might banish these*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eintruders from his palace and restore*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe rights and rule that had been his before.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSuch was the sadness of Telémachus,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ealone among the suitors, till he saw*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena; he rushed toward the outer door,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eashamed that none had gone to greet the stranger.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe drew near, clasped her right hand, even as*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis left relieved her of the heavy lance.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd when he spoke, his words were like winged shafts:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"My greetings, stranger. Welcome to our feast.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEat first-and then do tell us what you seek.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe led the way; Athena followed him.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOnce they were in the high-roofed hall, he placed*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher lance against a column at whose base*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea polished rack, with slots for spears, was set;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewithin that rack there stood still other shafts,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe many spears that brave Odysseus left.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe led the stranger to a tall chair, wrought*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewith care; across its frame he spread rich cloth.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere he invited her to sit and rest*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eher feet upon a stool; and he himself*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esat nearby, on another well-carved chair,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eset far off from the suitors, lest his guest,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein all that brouhaha, might look askance*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat feasting with such overbearing men-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand, too, because he wanted so to gather*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewhat news he could about his distant father.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat they might wash their hands, a servant poured*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efresh water from a lovely golden jug*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einto a silver basin; at their side*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eshe placed a polished table. The old housewife*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewas generous: she drew on lavish stores;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto each of them she offered much and more.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe carver offered meats of every sort,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand for their wine he set out golden cups;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand these-again, again-a page filled up.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut then the suitors swaggered in; they sat,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ein order, on low seats and high-backed chairs.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe pages poured fresh water for their hands,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand servants brought them baskets heaped with bread.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe suitors' hands reached out. The feast was theirs.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen they had had their fill of food and drink,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe feasters felt the need for chant and dance-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eat banquets, these are pleasing ornaments.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA steward now consigned a handsome harp*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003einto the hands of Phémius, who was forced,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efrom time to time, to entertain those lords.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe struck the strings, and music graced his words.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen, as Telémachus turned toward his guest,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003elest he be overheard, he held his head*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eclose to the gray-eyed goddess-and he said:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Dear guest, will you be vexed at what I say?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis harping and this chant delight these men,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor all these goods come easily to them:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey feed-but never need to recompense.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThey feast at the expense of one whose white*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebones, surely, either rot beneath the rain,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eunburied and abandoned on the land,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor else are preyed upon by churning waves.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYet, were Odysseus to return, were they*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto see him here again, they would not pray*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor gold or richer clothes-just faster feet.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut he has died by now, died wretchedly;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand nothing can console us now, not even*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif some man on this earth should say my father*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewill yet return. The day of his homecoming*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis lost: it is a day we'll never see.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut tell me one thing-tell me honestly:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWho are you? Of what father were you born?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhere is your city, where your family?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn what ship did you sail? Why did that crew*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ebring you to Ithaca? And who were they?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor surely you did not come here on foot!*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd also tell me truthfully-is this*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe first time you have come to Ithaca,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor have you been my father's guest before?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor many other foreigners have come*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto visit us-like you, my father knew*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe ways of many men and many lands.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena, gray-eyed goddess, answered him:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"My words to you are true: I'm Méntës, son*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof wise Anchíalus; the Táphians,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003etenacious oarsmen, are the men I rule.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow I have landed here with ship and crew;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewe cross the winedark sea toward Témesë-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eall this in search of copper. What we stow*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis gleaming iron, which we're set to barter.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOutside the city, moored in Rhe*¯¯thron's harbor,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eclose to the fields, beneath Mount Néion's forest,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emy ship is waiting. Years ago, your father*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand mine were guests and friends. (Just ask the brave*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLaértës-though they say he shuns the city;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit seems that now he much prefers to grieve*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efar off, alone, except for one old servant.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe, when his body aches from the hard climb*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe makes, from slope to slope, to tend his vines,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003estill carries food and drink right to his side.)*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNNN*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Now I have come-for I had heard indeed*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethat he, your father, had returned. Surely*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eit is the gods who now obstruct his journey.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFor bright Odysseus has not died upon*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethis earth: he is alive somewhere, delayed*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eupon an island set among vast waves,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eheld by harsh savages, against his will.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI am no augur or interpreter*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof flights of birds, but now I shall foretell-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eeven as the immortals prompt my soul-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eevents my mind can see: Your father will*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003enot be kept back from his dear land much longer,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethough they may bind him fast in iron chains;*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehe is a man of many wiles, who can*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003econtrive the way to reach his home again.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut you-do tell me now with honesty:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAre you, so tall, indeed Odysseus' son?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eYour head and handsome eyes resemble his*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eextraordinarily; we two had met*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003equite often in the days before he left*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003efor Troy, where others, too-the Argives' best-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esailed in their hollow ships. But since then I*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehave not seen him, and he has not seen me.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTelémachus' reply was keen and wise:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Dear friend, I cannot be more frank than this.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy mother says I am his son, but none*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecan know for sure the seed from which he's sprung.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn any case, would I had been the son*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof one so blessed that he grew old among*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis own belongings. I, instead, am born-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eor so they say-of one who surely was*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe most forsaken man, the most forlorn.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow you have had and heard my full response.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAthena, gray-eyed goddess, answered him:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Despite misfortune now, your family*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ecan count on future fame: Penelope*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis mother of a son who is most worthy.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut tell me truthfully: What sort of feast*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eis this? A banquet? Or a wedding party?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis surely is no meal where each has brought*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehis share. Why did this crowd seek out your house?*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThese guzzlers seem to me no better than*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea pack of swaggerers-too rude, too coarse.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSeeing their shameful doings, any man*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eof sense would feel both anger and contempt.\"*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTelemachus' response was wise, precise:*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Dear guest, to all you ask, I now reply.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI tell you that as long as he, my father,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewas in his native land, this house was rich*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eand great. But then the gods willed otherwise-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethey made my father vanish: they devised*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eoblivion for him-much deeper than*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eoblivion known by any other man.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd though he's dead, my grief would be less deep*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eif he had fallen in the land of Troy,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eamong his fellow warriors, or else-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eonce he had wound up all the threads of war-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehad died at home, among his very own.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThen all of the Achæ´ans would have built*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ea tomb for him; and, too, he would have won*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003emuch glory for his son in days to come.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eInstead, the spirit-winds-the stormy Harpies-*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003esnatched him away ingloriously: he*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ewas banished into black obscurity.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd I am left with grief and misery.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI sigh not only over him: the gods*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ehave given me still more calamities.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll lords with power in these isles-who rule*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eDulíchium and Samos and Zacy´nthus,*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ethe wooded isle, and those who now presume*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto rule in rocky Ithaca-continue*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eto woo my mother and consume my goods.*\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e -- PrePress Department Westchester Book 4 Old Newtown Road Danbury CT 06810 Voice: 1-203-791-0080 Fax:   1-203-791-9286 e-mail: prepress@wbrt.com","brand":"Bantam Classics","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302739792101,"sku":"NP9780553213997","price":5.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780553213997.jpg?v=1767740771","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-odyssey-of-homer-isbn-9780553213997","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}