Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
come, declare me this, and tell me all plainly, whether indeed, so tall
as thou art, thou art sprung from the loins of Odysseus. Thy head
surely and they beauteous eyes are wondrous like to his, since full
many a time have we held converse together ere he embarked for Troy,
whither the others, aye the bravest of the Argives, went in hollow
ships. From that day forth neither have I seen Odysseus, nor he me.”
[2] Tamasia, in the mountainous centre of Cyprus.
Then wise Telemachus answered her, and said: “Yea, sir, now will I
plainly tell thee all. My mother verily saith that I am his; for myself
I know not, for never man yet knew of himself his own descent. O that I
had been the son of some blessed man, whom old age overtook among his
own possessions! But now of him that is the most hapless of mortal men,
his son they say that I am, since thou dost question me hereof.”
Then the goddess, grey-eyed Athene, spake unto him, and said: “Surely
no nameless lineage have the gods ordained for thee in days to come,
since Penelope bore thee so goodly a man. But come, declare me this,
and tell it all plainly. What feast, nay, what rout is this? What hast
thou to do therewith? Is it a clan drinking, or a wedding feast, for
here we have no banquet where each man brings his share? In such wise,
flown with insolence, do they seem to me to revel wantonly through the
house: and well might any man be wroth to see so many deeds of shame,
whatso wise man came among them.”
Then wise Telemachus answered her, and said: “Sir, forasmuch as thou
questionest me of these things and inquirest thereof, our house was
once like to have been rich and honourable, while yet that man was
among his people. But now the gods willed it otherwise, in evil
purpose, who have made him pass utterly out of sight as no man ever
before. Truly I would not even for his death make so great sorrow, had
he fallen among his fellows in the land of the Trojans, or in the arms
of his friends when he had wound up the clew of war. Then would the
whole Achaean host have builded him a barrow, and even for his son
would he have won great glory in the after days. But now the spirits of
the storm have swept him away inglorious. He is gone, lost to sight and
hearsay, but for me hath he left anguish and lamentation; nor
henceforth is it for him alone that I mourn and weep, since the gods
have wrought for me other sore distress. For all the noblest that are
princes in the isles, in Dulichium and Same and wooded Zacynthus, and
as many as lord it in rocky Ithaca, all these woo my mother and waste
my house. But as for her she neither refuseth the hated bridal, nor
hath the heart to make an end: so they devour and minish my house, and
ere long will they make havoc likewise of myself.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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