The Odyssey: Rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the originalHomer
General
The Odyssey: Rendered into English prose for the use of those who cannot read the original
Homer
Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Homer -- Translations into English; Odysseus, King of Ithaca (Mythological character)
Thereon he floated about for two nights and two days in the water, with
a heavy swell on the sea and death staring him in the face; but when
the third day broke, the wind fell and there was a dead calm without so
much as a breath of air stirring. As he rose on the swell he looked
eagerly ahead, and could see land quite near. Then, as children rejoice
when their dear father begins to get better after having for a long
time borne sore affliction sent him by some angry spirit, but the gods
deliver him from evil, so was Ulysses thankful when he again saw land
and trees, and swam on with all his strength that he might once more
set foot upon dry ground. When, however, he got within earshot, he
began to hear the surf thundering up against the rocks, for the swell
still broke against them with a terrific roar. Everything was enveloped
in spray; there were no harbours where a ship might ride, nor shelter
of any kind, but only headlands, low-lying rocks, and mountain tops.
Ulysses’ heart now began to fail him, and he said despairingly to
himself, “Alas, Jove has let me see land after swimming so far that I
had given up all hope, but I can find no landing place, for the coast
is rocky and surf-beaten, the rocks are smooth and rise sheer from the
sea, with deep water close under them so that I cannot climb out for
want of foot hold. I am afraid some great wave will lift me off my legs
and dash me against the rocks as I leave the water—which would give me
a sorry landing. If, on the other hand, I swim further in search of
some shelving beach or harbour, a hurricane may carry me out to sea
again sorely against my will, or heaven may send some great monster of
the deep to attack me; for Amphitrite breeds many such, and I know that
Neptune is very angry with me.”
While he was thus in two minds a wave caught him and took him with such
force against the rocks that he would have been smashed and torn to
pieces if Minerva had not shown him what to do. He caught hold of the
rock with both hands and clung to it groaning with pain till the wave
retired, so he was saved that time; but presently the wave came on
again and carried him back with it far into the sea—tearing his hands
as the suckers of a polypus are torn when some one plucks it from its
bed, and the stones come up along with it—even so did the rocks tear
the skin from his strong hands, and then the wave drew him deep down
under the water.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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