Homer’S Iliad: Translated by William Guy

By William Guy

The brutal wrath of Akhilleus and what follows from it. The Ur-text and the Ur-tragedy of Western literature. Homers ILIAD is both the simplest and also the most complex and beautiful poem ever written about war and about those who engage in it. Wars pity, wars desolation, wars stupidity and (some would say) wars glory. A mirror of human conduct. A necessary primer for statesmen. The cautionary image of what it means to send young people off to war and have them blow each other to pieces. Homers epic newly translated from the Greek.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 29, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503528055

William Guy

William Guy is a Pittsburgh native and a Pittsburgh resident. He is the author of GRAVITY’S REVOLT, a novel; DEFUNCTIVE MUSIC, poems including a translation of BEOWULF; four books on travel: A TRAVELER’S EDUCATION; MAGIC CASEMENTS; SOMETHING SENSATIONAL; and GETTING DOWN AT BHUBANESHWAR. He is, with William Orr, co-author of LIVING HOPE: A STUDY OF THE NEW TESTAMENT THEME OF BIRTH FROM ABOVE. He is currently at work on THE LYNDONIAD, a long poem or a series of interrelated poems on the year 1968.

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Copyright © 2015 by William Guy.

Illustrations by Dwight Nacaytuna.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2014922332

ISBN:      Hardcover     978-1-5035-2804-8

                Softcover      978-1-5035-2806-2

                eBook           978-1-5035-2805-5

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Rev. date: 01/27/2015

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CONTENTS

Book One

Book Two

Book Three

Book Four

Book Five

Book Six

Book Seven

Book Eight

Book Nine

Book Ten

Book Eleven

Book Twelve

Book Thirteen

Book Fourteen

Book Fifteen

Book Sixteen

Book Seventeen

Book Eighteen

Book Nineteen

Book Twenty

Book Twenty One

Book Twenty Two

Book Twenty Three

Book Twenty Four

An Afterword of Appreciation

In Memoriam

William F. Orr

…most reverend head to whom I owe

All that I am in [Greek], all that I know.

(How nothing’s that)…

BOOK ONE

Brutal wrath of Akhilléüs,

Péleüs’s son, o goddess sing—

Which put unnumbered woes on the Akhaioi,

And which hurled to Hades many valiant souls of heroes,

And which made them prey for dogs and all the birds—

And Zeus’s will was being brought to pass—

From when the son of Átreüs, men’s king,

And brilliant Akhilléüs first conceived offense and quarreled.

Who of the gods then brought those two

In strife together fighting?

The son of Léto and Zeus.

For he sent dreadful sickness through the army

In his outrage at the king—

Armies died because the son of Átreüs

Dishonored Khrúsës the priest.

For, bearing countless ransom-gifts, he’d come

To the Akhaians’ rapid ships to free his daughter,

Holding fillets of Apollo, distant shooter,

In his hands upon the golden staff of office,

He entreated all the Akhaioi,

But the two sons of Átreüs, those marshallers

Of armies, most of all:

"Átreüs’s sons and other well-greaved Akhaioi,

May the gods who have their dwelling in Olúmpos

Let you plunder Priam's city, then go home safely.

But release my darling daughter, and accept these gifts

As ransom, and evince respect for Zeus's son

Apollo, distant shooter."

The other Akhaioi nodded their assent

To showing honor to the priest

And to receiving splendid gifts.

But this did not seem pleasing

To the mind of Agamémnon, son of Átreüs,

Who insultingly dismissed him,

And imposed a harsh injunction:

"Never let me find you either lingering now

Or later coming back beside the hollow ships, old man,

Lest scepter and the fillets of the god

Should not protect you then.

I will not let her go— before I do old age

Will come upon her at our house in Argos,

Far from her native country,

As she walks along the loom and shares my bed.

Now go away and don't provoke my anger,

So that you may go home more safely."

Thus he spoke, the old man was afraid

And did the bidding of his statement.

He went his way in silence by the shore of the noisy sea.

Stepping aside, the old man prayed intensely to

Apollo the king, whom Léto of the lovely hair had born:

"Hear me, mouse-god, silver-bowed one,

Circling Khrúsë, sacred Kílla round,

And ruling Ténedos with might:

If ever I have put a roof that pleased you on your temple,

If I have ever burnt the fatty thighs of bulls

And goats to you, fulfill for me this wish:

May the Dánäoi pay for my tears by your shafts."

Thus he spoke in prayer, and Phoibos Apollo heard him,

He descended from Olúmpos’ peaks with anger in his heart,

Carrying the bow and covered quiver on his shoulders.

The arrows clattered on the shoulder

Of the one who was enraged as he was moving.

He came resembling night.

He set himself up at a distance from the ships then,

And he let an arrow fly.

The silver bow gave off a dreadful twang.

He first attacked the mules and rapid dogs,

But then he launched his piercing dart at them and struck.

Thick fires were always burning for the corpses.

For nine days the missiles of the god went through the army,

On the tenth day Akhilléüs called the host to an assembly.

The white-armed goddess Hera put that notion in his head.

She was anxious for the Dánäoi

Since she had watched them as they died.

When they had come together, were assembled,

Akhilléüs swift of foot stood up, and spoke among them:

"Son of Átreüs, I expect that we’ll be driven home now—

That is if we can flee from death—

If war and famine conquer the Akhaioi at the same time.

But come, let us consult some priest or prophet,

Or even an interpreter of dreams (because a dream too is from Zeus),

Who might explain what Phoibos Apollo is so mad about—

If he has found fault with a vow or with a sacrifice—

And if with his acceptance of the fat smell

Of our lambs and spotless goats

He might be willing to defend us from this evil."

He sat down, having spoken thus.

And Kálkhas, son of Théstor,

By far the best interpreter of birds,

Who knew what was and what would be and what had been before,

Who, by the art of divination which Apollo had endowed him with,

Had piloted the ships of the Akhaioi unto Íliön,

Stood up among them.

With good intent he spoke in their assembly and addressed them.

"Oh Akhilléüs, Zeus’s loved one,

You’re asking me to give an explanation

Of the far-shooting king Apollo’s anger.

I will speak then. You must heed me, though,

And give me your assurance

That with words and hands you zealously

Will help me, since I think that I’ll enrage the man

Who lords it over all the Argives mightily,

Whom the Akhaioi are commanded by.

For a king has greater power

When he’s angry at a man of meaner birth.

And even if he swallows down his anger for that day,

He later harbors rancor in his chest till he can bring it to fruition.

Consider if you’ll save me then."

Then Akhilléüs swift of foot addressed him in reply.

"Be brave, say what you know of the divine will.

By Apollo loved of Zeus to whom you pray

When you reveal to the Akhaioi the divine will,

I will swear that while I live upon the earth and see the light

None of the Dánäoi beside the hollow ships

Will lay his heavy hands upon you—

Not even if you speak of Agamémnon,

Who now declares that he’s the best by far of the Akhaioi."

The noble seer summoned up his courage then and spoke:

"He isn’t finding fault for any sacrifice or vow—

It’s rather for the priest whom Agamémnon has dishonored,

He did not release his daughter, he did not accept the ransom.

Because of this the shooter from afar has given out

And will continue giving hardships.

He will not drive away the baleful evil from the Dánäoi

Until they give the girl with glancing eyes

Without a payment or a ransom to her father,

And conduct a sacred hekatomb to Khrúsë.

We then might seek his favor, win him over."

In this way having spoken, he sat down.

The warrior Agamémnon, son of Átreüs, whose rule

Extended far, stood up in front of them inflamed.

His black mind was completely filled with rage,

And his eyes seemed flashing fire.

With hateful look he first accosted Kálkhas:

"Prophet of evil things,

You’ve never told me anything propitious even once—

The evil things are always what your mind prefers to prophesy,

You’ve never made a helpful speech or brought one to fruition.

And now, explaining what the gods want

To the Dánäoi, you say in this assembly that the shooter

From afar has sent them hardships for a reason:

That I don’t want to take a splendid ransom for the girl,

For Khrúsë’s daughter since I’d much prefer

To have her at my house.

For the fact is I prefer her to my wife, to Klutaiméstrë,

Since she is not her inferior in birth, in form or stature,

Or in mind or in accomplishments.

But even thus I want to give her back if it is better—

I would rather have the army safe than dying.

But prepare a special prize for me at once beyond the spoils,

In order that alone among the Argives I not lack one

Since that would not be correct.

For look all of you, my prize is going elsewhere."

Akhilléüs splendid, swift-of foot, then made reply to him:

"Most honored son of Átreüs, the one of all

Who’s greediest for profit:

How shall the Akhaioi great of heart

Give you a prize beyond the spoils?

We’re not aware of any common store

Of goods laid up abundantly.

The things which we have carried off

From cities were distributed.

It doesn’t befit the army to collect again

The things that were distributed.

But you must let her go now to the god.

We Akhaioi will repay you by a multiple of three or four

If Zeus will somehow let us sack the well-walled Trojan city."

Lordly Agamémnon then addressed him in reply:

"Don’t try to trick me in this way with what you’re thinking

Though you’re brave, o god-resembling Akhilléüs—

Since you will not put it past me, won’t convince me.

Or do you want, while you yourself possess a meed of honor,

For me to go without one as I was,

Are you enjoining me to give her back?

But if the mighty-spirited Akhaioi were to give to me a gift,

And were to make it suit my taste,

So that the recompense was equal…

But if they don’t, then I myself will come

And take off Aiäs’ gift or yours—

Or I may take and lead away Odússeüs’s gift.

The one to whom I come will be enraged.

But we will speak of this some other time.

Right now let’s draw the dark ship to the bright sea,

Let’s bring together rowers as are needed,

Place a sacrifice inside,

And put the fair-cheeked Khrúseïs herself on board.

And let some trusted counselor be commander,

Such as Aiäs or perhaps Idomenéüs,

Or illustrious Odússeüs,

Or you, o son of Péleüs, of men the most amazing—

In order that you win for us the favor of

The one-who-works-far-off by doing sacrifice."

But Akhilléüs swift-of-foot

Addressed him with a glowering look:

"I can’t take any more of this, your greediness,

The shamelessness you’ve put on like a garment—

How should any man of the Akhaioi

Do your bidding with a ready mind, or make

An expedition, or against men battle mightily?

I for one did not come here to fight

Because of any Trojan warriors,

Since they have done no wrong towards me.

They never drove off cows of mine or horses—

Back in Phthíë where the clods are rich and men get fed,

They never damaged produce, we’re cut off from them

By many things, by mountains flecked with shadows

And the roaring ocean.

But for you, egregious, shameful one,

We came along to Troy to do a kindness,

To achieve recompense for Meneláös and for you, dog-face.

But you don’t care at all about these things or let them trouble you.

You threaten that you’ll take away my gift yourself,

For which I labored greatly, which the sons of the Akhaioi gave me.

I never have a gift that equals yours when the Akhaioi

Sack a city of the Trojans with its goodly population.

But my hands manage most of rushing war.

Whenever an apportionment occurs, though,

You receive by far the greater gift, and I go

With a small though cherished something

To the ships when I have worn myself with fighting.

I’m going back to Phthíë now, since it is far better

That I go home with my curved ships—

I do not want to heap up wealth and riches for you,

While I remain dishonored here."

Agamémnon king of men then answered him:

"If that’s the way your mind is bent, by all means then run home—

Don’t think that I’ll petition you to stay on my behalf.

I have on my side others who will show me proper honor,

Especially the counselor Zeus.

Of all the rulers Zeus prefers I hate you most.

For you love constant wars and strife and wrangling.

And if indeed you are so strong,

A god no doubt gave that to you.

Go home then with your ships and men

And lord it over Múrmidons, I can’t get too worked up

Concerning you, nor am I troubled by your anger.

In fact I’ll make this threat to you right here:

As I by Phoibos Apollo was deprived of Khrúsës’ daughter,

Whom I’ll send off with my ships and with my comrades,

So I will come in person to your tent and take away

The fair-cheeked Bríseïs, your prize, so you can know

How much more brave I am than you are,

So that someone else will shrink from ever saying

He’s my equal and from vying face to face with me."

He spoke in this way. Rage beset the son of Péleüs.

The heart within his shaggy chest, divided, pondered whether

He should draw the sharp sword up from by his thigh

And thus disperse them while he slew the son of Átreüs,

Or restrain his wrath and curb his indignation.

While he was turning these things in his mind and in his spirit,

And as he drew the great sword from its scabbard,

Athéna came from heaven.

Hera the white-armed goddess sent her forth,

Since she at heart cared equally for both and was alarmed.

She stood behind, she seized the son of Péleüs by his bright hair,

She appeared to him alone.

None of the others saw and Akhilléüs was amazed,

He turned around, he recognized at once Pallas Athéna.

Her eyes shone dreadfully.

Addressing her, he uttered wingèd words:

"Why have you come now, o child of aegis-bearing Zeus?

To know how far beyond the pale

In action Agamémnon

Son of Átreüs can go?

But I will tell you and I know that it will be fulfilled:

That he because of insolence will swiftly lose his life."

Athéna, the bright-eyed goddess, then addressed him:

"I’ve descended from the sky to curb your fury if you’ll hearken.

The white-armed goddess Hera sent me forth,

Since she at heart cares equally for both of you and is alarmed.

But come, desist from strife, don’t draw your sword forth

With your hand, but speak reproachfully to him

About the way it’s going to be.

For I will speak out here and it will happen.

And three times as many splendid gifts will be

At your command because of his outrageous

Way of acting. But restrain yourself, obey us."

Akhilléüs swift-of-foot addressed her in reply:

"One needs to do what you two say, o goddess,

Although one may indeed be very angry. It is better thus.

The one who does the bidding of the gods most gets their ear."

He spoke and had his heavy hand

Upon the silver handle of his sword—

He thrust the great sword back into its scabbard,

Did not disregard Athéna’s word.

But she had gone Olúmpos-wards

To aegis-bearing Zeus’s house

Among the other gods.

Again the son of Péleüs addressed the son of Átreüs

With harmful words, nor did he let his state of anger go.

"Soused in wine, possessor of a dog’s eyes

And the courage of a deer—

You’ve never had the guts to put on armor

For the battle with your people, or to take part

In an ambush with the best of the Akhaioi.

For that would seem to you to be like death.

Far better through the broad Akhaian camp

To take the gifts of any man who contradicts you.

A king who battens on the people’s common stock,

Since you govern over good-for-nothing losers.

Otherwise you’d now commit an outrage

For the last time, son of Átreüs.

But I will tell you and I’ll swear a solemn oath upon it,

Yea, by this scepter that will never put forth leaf or branch,

Will never branch afresh from when it first has left

Its stump among the hills because the axe

Has stripped its leaves and bark all round.

Those sons of the Akhaioi who protect the laws

In Zeus’s name are holding it as judges in their hands now—

And this will be for you a mighty oath.

Desire for Akhilléüs will at some time

Seize the sons of the Akhaioi all together.

However much you may feel grieved,

You won’t be able to defend yourselves

When many fall down dead at man-destroying Hektor’s hands.

You’ll tear your heart out then inside you, angry with yourself

Because you failed to offer honor to the best of the Akhaioi."

Thus the son of Péleüs spoke. He dashed

The scepter pierced with golden studs upon the ground,

He then sat down himself.

Átreüs’s son was showing rage upon the other side.

Then pleasant-speaking Nestor rose between them,

The Púlians’ clear-voiced orator, from whose tongue speech

Would flow more sweet than honey.

For him two generations of the mortals who’d been brought up

And appeared with him together in the past

In sacred Púlos had expired—

And he was now the ruler of a third.

He spoke to the assembly and addressed them

With his store of common sense.

"You both should be ashamed.

Such heavy grief has come unto the land of the Akhaioi.

Priam and Priam’s sons, and other Trojans would be glad,

They’d be rejoicing in their hearts if they had heard

Of you two wrangling over all this, who excel

The other Dánäoi in counsel and in fighting.

But be convinced—you’re both younger than I am.

In olden times my colleagues were

Much better men than you are,

And they did not make light of me at all.

I have not yet seen or expect to see

Such men as Perithóös or as Drúäs

Who was shepherd to his people,

As Kainéüs, Exadíüs, or the godlike Poluphémos,

Or as Théseüs, Aigéüs’ son, who seemed like an immortal.

Those grew up the mightiest of men upon the earth.

The mightiest they were and with the mightiest they fought,

Against the Centaurs who were couching in the mountains,

And they dreadfully destroyed them.

It was these whom I consorted with when coming out of Púlos,

From afar, that distant land.

For they themselves had called me.

I was fighting by myself.

And there is no one of the mortals who are now alive on earth

Who could have fought against that group.

And they heard me as I strategized

And were convinced by what I said.

So you should be convinced, to be convinced is better.

Don’t you, although you’re brave, remove the maiden

From this man, but let her go, just as the sons

Of the Akhaioi gave her first, a special gift.

And you, son of Péleüs, shouldn’t take it in your head

To raise a challenge to your ruler face to face,

Because it isn’t any common kind of honor

Which a scepter-bearing king whom Zeus

Has glorified partakes of.

Although you’re strong, and though you had a goddess

For a mother, he is stronger since he’s ruler over more men.

And you, o son of Átreüs, will have to curb your fury,

I am asking you to put aside your rage toward Akhilléüs,

Who for all of the Akhaioi is a great defence against this evil war."

Lordly Agamémnon then addressed him in reply:

"I agree, old sir, that all you’ve said is proper.

But this man wants to be above all others,

Wants to lord it over all, to be the ruler over all,

To give his orders out to all—

In which things there is someone who will not give in I think.

Let’s say that it’s the gods who live forever

Who have made him such a warrior—

Is that why his reproaches seem to rush forth to declare themselves?"

Bright Akhilléüs interrupting made reply to him:

"I’d then be called a coward, good for nothing, if

In every way I yielded to you just because you’ve spoken.

You can give these kinds of orders out to others,

But you won’t be giving orders out to me.

I don’t intend to do what you’ve commanded any longer.

And I’ll tell you something else

And you can stick it in your stomach:

I will not employ my hands to fight with you or someone else

About the girl, since it is you, the ones who gave her,

Who deprive me of her now.

Of other things that I possess beside my swift black ships,

Of those you won’t take anything away against my will.

So come and make the effort, so that these may also know.

Your black blood will spurt around my spear forthwith."

When those two as they fought with wrangling words arose,

They broke up the assembly by the ships of the Akhaioi.

Péleüs’s son went with Menoítios’s son

And with his comrades to the huts and to the trim ships.

Átreüs’s son drew down his swift ship to the ocean,

He selected twenty rowers, he put in it

What was needed for the offering to the god,

And he led up and he placed on board the fair-cheeked girl

of Khrúsës.

Odússeüs the man of many counsels got on board to act as chief.

Having boarded, they then sailed across the wet ways—

The son of Átreüs ordered that the people

Cleanse themselves of their pollution.

They did so, and they cast into the ocean their defilements.

They offered up, of bulls and goats,

The sacrificial number that was needed

To Apollo by the margin of the sea that yields no fruit.

The savor of the burning flesh reached heaven,

Curling round about in smoke.

Thus they toiled along the host.

But Agamémnon did not drop the wrangling

Which he first had menaced Akhilléüs with.

He addressed Talthúbios and Eurubátës

Both of them were heralds of his

And quick-to-serve retainers:

"Go to the tent of Akhilléüs, Péleüs’s son.

Seize by the hand and bring the fair-cheeked

Girl of Brísës forth. If he won’t hand her over,

I myself will come to seize her there with more men—

Which would be the worse for him."

Speaking thus, he sent them forth, laying the harsh injunction on.

Unwillingly they went along the margin of the sea that yields no fruit,

They got then to the huts and to the vessels of the Múrmidons,

They found him sitting near his black ship, by his tent.

Akhilléüs was not happy to behold them.

They both stood struck with terror, at the same time

That they held the king in honor—

They did not say a thing to him or ask him any questions.

But he knew in his own mind and he spoke.

"Greetings, heralds, messengers of Zeus and men, draw near.

I don’t hold you to blame, but Agamémnon,

Who has sent you in the matter of the maiden, Bríses’ daughter.

But come Patróklos, sprung from Zeus, lead forth the girl,

And give her to these two that they might lead her off.

But let them stand as witnesses

Before the blessèd gods and mortal men,

And in the presence of the harsh king --

In case I’m ever needed in the future

To avert the shameful ruin from the others.

He rages in destructiveness of passion,

He does not know how to reason at the same time

Of the future and the past,

That the Akhaioi by their ships might fight in safety."

He spoke thus, and Patróklos carried out his dear friend’s bidding,

He brought the fair-cheeked Bríseïs from the tent,

He gave her so that they could lead her off.

The two of them then went along the ships of the Akhaioi,

The woman went with them against her will.

But Akhilléüs soon slipped from his friends in tears

And sat along the margin of the grey sea,

And he gazed upon the boundless open ocean.

Stretching out his hands, he prayed in earnest to his dear mother:

"Mother, since you have borne me for a life

However short it’s meant to be,

Olumpian Zeus, high-thundering, should offer me renown.

Right now he hasn’t honored me a little.

Agamémnon, Átreüs’s son, of wide dominion,

Has dishonored me. He has seized and has my gift,

And he himself has taken it."

He spoke thus, spilling tears.

His lady mother heard him as she sat within

The sea’s depths by the agèd man her father.

She rose up mist-like swiftly from the grey sea,

And she sat before him as he spilled tears—

Stroking him with her hand,

She said a word and spoke his name.

"Why are you weeping, child?

What grief has reached your mind?

Speak out so that we both might know,

Don’t hide it in your head."

Groaning deeply, Akhilléüs swift of foot

Addressed her then: "You know.

Why should I make a speech of all these things

Which you’re aware of?

We made our way to Thébë,

Sacred city of Ëétiön, we sacked it,

And we brought from thence all things.

Among themselves the sons of the Akhaioi split them fairly up,

Reserving the fair-cheeked Khrúseïs for Átreüs’s son.

But Khrúsës, Apollo the distant shooter’s priest,

Approached the rapid ships of the Akhaioi-clad-in-bronze

To free his daughter, bearing countless gifts of ransom,

Holding the fillets of Apollo, distant shooter,

On the golden staff of office in his hands

And he petitioned all of the Akhaioi,

The two sons of Átreüs especially,

Those marshallers of armies.

The other Akhaioi all gave their assent

To showing honor to the priest

And to accepting splendid gifts then—

But this did not delight the mind of Átreüs’s son Agamémnon,

He insultingly dismissed him, he imposed a harsh injunction.

The old man went away again in anger.

Apollo heard him praying since he loved him very much,

He shot an evil missile at the Argives.

The peoples then were dying in succession,

The missiles of the god were ranging

All around the broad Akhaian host.

Knowing well the will of him who shoots from far away,

The prophet proclaimed it to us.

I was the first to say that we should seek

To win the favor of the god.

Rage at that seized Átreüs’s son,

He stood up right away and uttered menace

Which has now been brought to pass,

Because the glancing-eyed Akhaioi

In a rapid ship are sending her to Khrúsë,

They are bearing gifts unto the king.

Heralds leading Bríseïs the maiden

Whom the sons of the Akhaioi gave to me

Have just this moment left my tent.

But you, assist your good son if you’re able.

Go up unto Olúmpos and entreat Zeus,

If ever you in any way, by word or deed,

Have gladdened Zeus’s heart.

I’ve often heard you boasting in the palace of my father,

When you told how you alone among immortals

Were protecting Krónos’ cloud-enshrouded son

From shameful ruin when the others of Olúmpos

Meant to bind him: Héra, Pallas Athéna and Poseidon.

But you came to him, goddess, and released him from his shackles,

You quickly called the hundred-handed one to high Olúmpus

Whom the gods call Briäréus, but whom men all call Aigaiön—

Who surpasses his father in force—

He sat beside the son of Krónos brilliant in his splendor.

The blessèd gods shrank terror-struck before him and

did not bind him.

Reminding him of these things now, sit by him and embrace his knees,

In case he might be willing to assist the Trojan cause,

And coop up the Akhaioi getting killed beside their sterns

around the bay—

In order that they all might reap the fruits of such a king,

And so that Átreüs’s son, the widely ruling Agamémnon,

Might perceive the blindness of his mind

In that he did not prize the best of the Akhaian men at all."

Pouring tears out, Thetis then replied to him:

"Alas my child, why did I raise you when I’d borne you for misfortune?

I wish that you were sitting by the ships unharmed and tearless,

Since the time you’ve been allotted now is short, not long at all.

And you are now more ill-starred than the rest,

Your fate comes down upon you far more swiftly.

Thus I bore you in my rooms to a despised fate.

But I will now myself go toward much-snowed-upon Olúmpos,

To say to Zeus (delighting in his thunder) what you’ve said,

In case he just might be convinced.

But you now as you sit beside the swiftly-sailing ships

Should nurse your wrath toward the Akhaioi

And desist from war completely.

For Zeus went to the Ocean for a banquet with the noble Aithiópës,

All the gods went with him yesterday.

On the twelfth day he will come again Olúmpos-wards,

And then I’ll go toward Zeus’s brass-floored house,

And put my arms around his knees,

And I believe that I’ll persuade him."

She departed having spoken thus,

She left him there with anger in his heart about the nicely

belted woman,

Whom they had taken off from him against his will by force.

Odússeüs was drawing close to Khrúsë in the meantime,

Bringing the holy hecatomb.

They furled their sail when they had reached

The many-recessed harbor, and they placed it

In the black ship, they had let it down by ropes—

They brought the mast down swiftly to the crutch,

They rowed it to its anchorage with oars.

They threw the stones with hawsers out,

They bound them firmly to the stern.

They stepped out at the breakers’ edge,

They disembarked the animals devoted to Apollo, distant shooter.

Khrúsës’ daughter came out from the sea-traversing ship.

Odússeüs the man of many counsels, then conveyed her to the altar,

He placed her in her loving father’s hands

And then addressed him: "O Khrúsës,

Agamémnon, king of men, has sent me to conduct your daughter

And to offer holy sacrifice to Phoibus on the Dánaäns’ behalf,

In order that we might win back the favor of the king

Who now has let fly grievous woes among the Argives."

Speaking thus, he placed her in his arms;

Rejoicing, he received the precious child.

They then swiftly stood the animals devoted to be slaughtered

In succession to the god around the well-constructed altar.

They washed their hands and picked up grains of barley,

Khrúsës raised his hands and in a loud voice prayed on their behalf:

"Hear me silver-bowed one,

You who circle Khrúsë, sacred Kílla round,

And who are ruler over Ténedos with might;

Just as you heard me once when I was praying,

Showed me honor, bore down hard

Upon the host of the Akhaioi,

So again now bring this wish for me to pass:

Avert this dire affliction now from Dánäoi."

He spoke in prayer thus, Phoibus Apollo heard him.

And after they had prayed and sprinkled barley grains,

They drew the head back first and slit the throat

And flayed the hide and cut the thighs out

By the joint and made a double fold

To bury them in fat and laid upon them strips of flesh.

The old man burned them then upon the billets,

He poured out sparkling wine on them.

The young men beside him held in hand the five-pronged forks.

And when they’d burnt the thighs down and had tasted of the entrails,

They cut up the remaining flesh and skewered it on spits,

They roasted it with care, then took it all off.

When they had stopped this work

And made the banquet ready, they then feasted,

And no desire in any way went lacking

At the equally apportioned feast.

But when they’d had their fill of drink and food,

Then the young men filled the bowls up to the brim with drink,

They passed these out to all although they first

Poured off a few drops in the cups.

That whole day long the youths of the Akhaioi sought

To win with song the favor of the god, sang well the paeän,

They honored him who does his work from far off with their singing.

His heart took joy at hearing them.

But when the sun descended and the evening dusk had settled,

They laid themselves to sleep beside the cables of the ship.

But when the dawn, the early-born, the rosy-fingered one,

came into view,

They set sail for the broad Akhaian camp then.

Apollo who works from far off had supplied them with a fair breeze.

They raised the mast and spread the white sails wide,

The wind filled up the center of the sails,

The flashing sea splashed loudly round the ship’s stern as it went,

She ran across the waves to make her journey.

But when they’d reached the broad Akhaian camp,

They drew the black ship up upon the dry land, high

Upon the sand, they placed large props beneath it,

They then scattered to the tents and ships.

But Péleüs’s son, born from a god, the swift-foot Akhilléüs,

Sitting idle by the swiftly sailing ships was nursing anger.

He would not now at any time come forth unto the man-

Ennobling place of their assembly or to battle,

But he ate his own dear heart out as he stayed there,

For he felt the want of shouting and of warfare.

But when from then the twelfth dawn had arisen,

The gods who live forever all were going

Toward Olúmpos in a group, with Zeus as leader.

Thetis did not neglect her child’s behests,

But she rose up from swellings of the sea,

She rose at early morning toward the elevated heavens and Olúmpos.

She found the far-resounding son of Krónos

Sitting aloof from the others

On the highest top of many-ridged Olúmpos.

She sat beside him then, and with her left hand she embraced him

Round the knees, and with her right hand she took hold

beneath his chin,

And in entreaty she adressed the son of Krónos royal Zeus:

"Father Zeus, if I by word or deed amid immortals ever served you,

Bring to pass for me this favor.

Honor my son on whom of all men

Fate comes down most swiftly.

Agamémnon king of men has now dishonored him.

For he has seized and has his gift, and he himself removed it.

But honor him, Olumpian counselor Zeus.

For this long give the Trojans domination,

Till the Akhaioi honor my son

And have enriched him with distinction."

Thus she spoke. But Zeus who gathers clouds

Did not say anything to her—

He sat in silence for a long while.

But Thetis as she clasped his knees,

And as she held on clinging closely,

Spoke again a second time:

"Promise me for sure and nod your head,

Or make refusal since you need not fear—

In order that I well may know

How much among them all

I am a goddess held in highest disrespect."

Greatly stirred up, Zeus who gathers clouds addressed her then:

"Destructive work indeed, because you’re prompting me

To earn the wrath of Hera—

Since she provokes me with abusive words.

She upbraids me always as it is among the deathless gods,

And says I help the Trojans in the battle.

But you for now go home again, lest Hera notice something.

These things will be a care for me to bring them to completion.

If you would like, I’ll nod my head, in order that you’ll feel convinced.

This coming from me for the immortals is the highest form of pledge.

Whatever I have nodded to with my head can’t be recalled

Because it comes from me, it is not fallible, deceitful."

The son of Krónos spoke, and with his somber brows he nodded.

The king’s ambrosial locks were rippling forward

From his deathless head, he shook lofty Olúmpos.

Having thus consulted, they then parted.

She leapt from radiant Olúmpus to the deep sea,

But Zeus went to his house.

The gods all rose together from their seats before their father—

No one dared to stay when he approached,

But all stood up before him.

Thus he sat down there upon his throne.

Hera had not failed to see,

She’d noticed that the silverfooted Thetis,

The daughter of the old man of the sea,

Had offered plans to him.

She at once with jeers accosted Zeus, the son of Krónos:

"Which of the gods was hatching schemes with you again,

O wily one? You always like to get away from me

And make decisions, having thought them up in secret.

You have never had the nerve yet

Voluntarily to tell me what you’re planning."

The father both of gods and men replied to her:

"Don’t hope to fathom all my speeches, Hera.

They’re hard for you although you are my wife.

But what it’s fit for you to hear, there’s no one then

Of gods or human creatures who will know of it before you do.

But what I wish to ponder in seclusion from the gods—

None of that is yours to ask close questions or inquire of."

Hera, the cow-eyed queen, then made reply to him:

"What sort of statement’s that supposed to be, most dreadful Krónos’ son!

I surely haven’t asked you any questions or been probing up till now—

Without my interference absolutely you’ve been planning what

you wanted.

But now I’m deeply fearful that the silverfooted Thetis,

The daughter of the old man of the sea, may have convinced you.

For early in the morning she was sitting by your side and clasped your knees.

I think that you may faithfully have nodded as a vow

That you would honor Akhilléüs, that you’d slay many

By the ships of the Akhaioi."

The cloud-assembler Zeus spoke up to answer her:

"Possessed one, always making suppositions, I cannot escape

your notice.

But notwithstanding that you won’t be able to achieve a single purpose,

And you will be that much more distant from my heart.

It will in fact be worse for you.

If this is how things are then,

Rest assured that they are just the way I want them.

Be silent, sit, and yield to what I’m saying,

Lest as many gods as there are in Olúmpos not defend you

When I come close, when I lay resistless hands on you."

Thus he spoke. The cow-eyed mistress Hera was afraid,

And therefore she sat down in silence,

Repressing something cherished by her heart.

Throughout the house of Zeus the heavenly gods felt agitation.

Hephaistos famed for art addressed them first,

Doing what would please his cherished mother white-armed Hera:

"This destructive work is at the point of being more than we can bear—

If you two fight in this way over mortals,

And carry on this din among the gods.

We’ll get no pleasure from the worthy feast

Since bad things are prevailing.

I’m counseling my mother then—

Although she understands these things herself—

To act to please our cherished father Zeus,

In order that our father not start fighting in the future,

At the same time wreaking havoc with our feast.

And what if the lord of lightning of Olúmpos

Wants to knock us off our seats?

For he’s by far the strongest.

But why don’t you accost him with conciliating words.

At once then the Olúmpian will be propitious towards us."

He spoke this way, then quickly rose,

He put into his cherished mother’s hands

The double goblet and addressed her:

"Endure and suffer patiently, my mother,

In order that these eyes not see you smitten though you’re dear—

For then I won’t be able to defend you though I may be grieved.

The Olumpian is resisted at one’s peril.

For he already threw me once before when I was eager to defend you

From the sacred threshold, having seized me by the foot—

I was borne for one whole day, I fell on Lémnos

At the same time that the sun was going down—

There was not much life left in me.

The Sintian men there picked me up at once where I had fallen."

Thus he spoke, the white-armed goddess Hera smiled,

And smiling she took the goblet from her child’s hand.

He then poured out sweet nectar left to right

For all the other gods, drawing it off from the bowl.

Unquenchable laughter then broke out amid the happy gods,

When they observed Hephaistos as he bustled through the house.

In this way then for that whole day

Until the sun went down they went on feasting,

And no heart went without its equal portion of the meal,

Or without the well-made lyre had by Apollo,

Or without the Muses, who were singing,

Taking turns with lovely voices.

Each one went to his house to get some rest then

When the sun had set,

Where famed Hephaistos, bandy-legged,

With knowing mind, had made a house for each.

Olúmpian Zeus, the lightener, approached his bed.

That was where he theretofore had slept

Whenever sweet sleep came upon him.

He slept there having gotten up upon it,

With Hera of the golden throne beside him.

BOOK TWO

The other gods and men who marshalled heroes

Slept the whole night through,

But pleasant sleep did not have hold of Zeus,

Since he was turning in his mind

How he might honor Akhilléüs,

And might kill many by the ships of the Akhaioi.

Already it had struck him as the best determination

To dispatch a baleful dream to Agamémnon, son of Átreüs.

And uttering wingèd words to it, he spoke:

"Go to the rapid ships of the Akhaioi, baleful dream, now.

And when you reach the tent of Agamémnon, son of Átreüs,

Address him just exactly as I tell you.

Order him to arm for war in full force the Akhaioi

With their long hair,

For now’s the time when he might take

The city of the Trojans with its wide streets.

The immortals who have houses in Olúmpus

Don’t now differ in their counsel.

For Hera has bent them all around to her view by entreaties,

A fate of sorrows hangs above the Trojans."

Thus he spoke and then the dream descended,

Having heard what he had said.

It reached the swift Akhaian ships at once

And made its way to Agamémnon, son of Átreüs.

It came upon him sleeping in his tent,

Immortal sleep had spread itself around him.

It stood above his head then

In the semblance of the son of Néleüs Nestor,

For Agamémnon honored him the most of all the elders.

Resembling him, the dream from heaven spoke:

"You’re sleeping, son of Átreüs, skillful breaker in of horses.

A man whose job it is to offer counsel,

Whom nations are entrusted to,

Whose cares are of so great extent,

Should not be sleeping all night through.

Now mark my words at once.

I am to you a messenger from Zeus

Who, though he may be far away,

Cares greatly for and pities you.

He orders you to arm for war in full force

The Akhaioi with their long hair.

You now might take the city of the Trojans with its wide streets.

The immortals who have houses in Olúmpus

Don’t now differ in their counsels,

For Héra has bent them all around to her view by entreaties,

A fate from Zeus of sorrows hangs above the Trojans’ heads.

But you must keep this in your heart

When honey-hearted sleep has left you,

Not allow forgetfulness to seize you."

It then departed, having spoken thus.

It left him there to ponder in his heart

Those things which would not be fulfilled.

For he believed that that day he would

Capture Priam’s city—what an infant!—

He did not know the works that Zeus was plotting.

For it was his intention to impose through savage combat

Woes and groanings on the Dánäoi and Trojans.

He roused himself from sleep.

The heavenly voice was poured around him.

He raised himself and sat straight up.

He donned his new-made, soft, and pleasing tunic,

He threw his great cloak on around.

He tied his well-made sandals on

Beneath his gleaming feet. He hung the sword

Studded with silver nails around his shoulders.

He took the ever undecaying

Staff of office handed down by fathers.

With it he went his way along the ships

Of the Akhaioi clad in bronze.

The goddess of the dawn was now approaching great Olúmpus,

To Zeus and to the other gods a harbinger of daylight.

But he to clear-voiced heralds gave an order

That they summon the Akhaioi with their long hair to assembly.

The summonses were given, they then grouped themselves

With greatest speed. He first convoked a council

Of the stout hearts, senior statesmen,

By the Púlos-born King Nestor’s ship—

He put his shrewd plan forward, having called them:

"Listen, friends. A heavenly dream appeared to me

In sleep through this immortal night.

In form and stature, comeliness, most nearly

It resembled noble Nestor.

It stood above my head

And it addressed me with these words.

‘You’re sleeping, son of Átreüs, skillful breaker-in of horses.

A man whose job it is to offer counsel,

Whom nations are entrusted to,

Whose cares are of so great extent,

Should not be sleeping all night through.

I am to you a messenger from Zeus

Who, though he may be far away,

Cares greatly for and pities you.

He orders you to ready the Akhaioi

With their long hair in a group for war.

You now might take the city of the Trojans with its wide streets.

The immortals who have houses in Olúmpus

Now don’t differ in their counsels,

For Héra has bent them all around to her view by entreaties.

A fate from Zeus of sorrows hangs above the Trojans’ heads.

But you must keep this in your heart.’

It left, it flew away then, having spoken thus,

Then pleasant sleep released me.

But come let’s see if we can get the sons

Of the Akhaioi in their armor.

I will test them first with words

As is the custom. I will order them to flee

On board their ships with many row-locks.

But you with your words will restrain them,

Some on this side, some on that."

He then, when he had spoken thus, sat down,

And Nestor, who was king of sandy Púlos, rose among them.

With good sense he addressed and spoke to them:

"O friends, the Argives’ leaders and their chiefs:

If any other man of the Akhaioi told this dream,

We’d say it was a lie and all the more we’d turn away in disbelief.

But now the one who claims that he’s the best of the Akhaioi

By a long shot has beheld it.

So come let’s see if there’s some way

That we can get the sons of the Akhaioi into armor."

He then led the way forth from the council, having spoken thus.

The scepter-bearing kings stood up

And they obeyed the peoples’ shepherd.

And the army hastened on.

As when the swarms of close-packed bees proceed

Which always come forth from the hollow rock afresh.

They fly in clusters on the spring flowers.

Some fly here in throngs and some fly there.

Thus many bands from ships and tents

Before the deep-set beach went forth

In ranks toward their assembly-place.

Rumor, Zeus’s messenger, broke out among them

Urging them to go. They came together.

The assembly was in chaos.

The earth groaned under people sitting down,

There was an uproar.

Nine shouting heralds tried to curb them,

To see if they might hold their shouting down,

And listen to their kings whom Zeus had cherished.

It wasn’t easy getting the folk to sit,

But they were brought to order in their seats

And stopped their clangor.

Up stood lordly Agamémnon then,

He held the scepter which Hephaistos

Tired himself out as he made—Hephaistos had

Presented it to Krónos’ son king Zeus.

Zeus had next bestowed it on

The Argus-killing guide.

King Hermes then had given it

To Pélops, smiter of horses.

But Pélops gave it in his turn to Átreüs,

The shepherd of the nations.

But Átreüs left it when he died

To rich-in-sheep Thuéstës.

Thuéstës left it then to Agamémnon—

To bear and be the lord of many islands, all of Argos.

Leaning on it, he uttered words among the Argives then:

"And so, my friends, the