ὈΔΎΣΣΕΙΑ 12

Αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ ποταμοῖο λίπεν ῥόον Ὠκεανοῖο
νηῦς, ἀπὸ δ' ἵκετο κῦμα θαλάσσης εὐρυπόροιο
νῆσόν τ' Αἰαίην, ὅθι τ' Ἠοῦς ἠριγενείης
οἰκία καὶ χοροί εἰσι καὶ ἀντολαὶ Ἠελίοιο,
νῆα μὲν ἔνθ' ἐλθόντες ἐκέλσαμεν ἐν ψαμάθοισιν,
ἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βῆμεν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
ἔνθα δ' ἀποβρίξαντες ἐμείναμεν Ἠῶ δῖαν.

ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
δὴ τότ' ἐγὼν ἑτάρους προΐην ἐς δώματα Κίρκης
οἰσέμεναι νεκρὸν Ἐλπήνορα τεθνηῶτα.
φιτροὺς δ' αἶψα ταμόντες, ὅθ' ἀκροτάτη πρόεχ' ἀκτή,
θάπτομεν ἀχνύμενοι, θαλερὸν κατὰ δάκρυ χέοντες.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ νεκρός τ' ἐκάη καὶ τεύχεα νεκροῦ,
τύμβον χεύαντες καὶ ἐπὶ στήλην ἐρύσαντες
πήξαμεν ἀκροτάτῳ τύμβῳ εὐῆρες ἐρετμόν.

ἡμεῖς μὲν τὰ ἕκαστα διείπομεν· οὐδ' ἄρα Κίρκην
ἐξ Ἀΐδεω ἐλθόντες ἐλήθομεν, ἀλλὰ μάλ' ὦκα
ἦλθ' ἐντυναμένη· ἅμα δ' ἀμφίπολοι φέρον αὐτῇ
σῖτον καὶ κρέα πολλὰ καὶ αἴθοπα οἶνον ἐρυθρόν.
ἡ δ' ἐν μέσσῳ στᾶσα μετηύδα δῖα θεάων·

«σχέτλιοι, οἳ ζώοντες ὑπήλθετε δῶμ' Ἀΐδαο,
δισθανέες, ὅτε τ' ἄλλοι ἅπαξ θνῄσκουσ' ἄνθρωποι.
ἀλλ' ἄγετ' ἐσθίετε βρώμην καὶ πίνετε οἶνον
αὖθι πανημέριοι· ἅμα δ' ἠόϊ φαινομένηφι
πλεύσεσθ'· αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ δείξω ὁδὸν ἠδὲ ἕκαστα
σημανέω, ἵνα μή τι κακοῤῥαφίῃ ἀλεγεινῇ
ἢ ἁλὸς ἢ ἐπὶ γῆς ἀλγήσετε πῆμα παθόντες.»

ὣς ἔφαθ', ἡμῖν δ' αὖτ' ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
ὣς τότε μὲν πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἥμεθα δαινύμενοι κρέα τ' ἄσπετα καὶ μέθυ ἡδύ·
ἦμος δ' ἠέλιος κατέδυ καὶ ἐπὶ κνέφας ἦλθεν,
οἱ μὲν κοιμήσαντο παρὰ πρυμνήσια νηός,
ἡ δ' ἐμὲ χειρὸς ἑλοῦσα φίλων ἀπονόσφιν ἑταίρων
εἷσέ τε καὶ προσέλεκτο καὶ ἐξερέεινεν ἕκαστα·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ τῇ πάντα κατὰ μοῖραν κατέλεξα.
καὶ τότε δή μ' ἐπέεσσι προσηύδα πότνια Κίρκη·

«ταῦτα μὲν οὕτω πάντα πεπείρανται, σὺ δ' ἄκουσον,
ὥς τοι ἐγὼν ἐρέω, μνήσει δέ σε καὶ θεὸς αὐτός.
Σειρῆνας μὲν πρῶτον ἀφίξεαι, αἵ ῥά τε πάντας
ἀνθρώπους θέλγουσιν, ὅτίς σφεας εἰσαφίκηται.
ὅς τις ἀϊδρείῃ πελάσῃ καὶ φθόγγον ἀκούσῃ
Σειρήνων, τῷ δ' οὔ τι γυνὴ καὶ νήπια τέκνα
οἴκαδε νοστήσαντι παρίσταται οὐδὲ γάνυνται,
ἀλλά τε Σειρῆνες λιγυρῇ θέλγουσιν ἀοιδῇ,
ἥμεναι ἐν λειμῶνι· πολὺς δ' ἀμφ' ὀστεόφιν θὶς
ἀνδρῶν πυθομένων, περὶ δὲ ῥινοὶ μινύθουσιν.
ἀλλὰ παρὲξ ἐλάαν, ἐπὶ δ' οὔατ' ἀλεῖψαι ἑταίρων
κηρὸν δεψήσας μελιηδέα, μή τις ἀκούσῃ
τῶν ἄλλων· ἀτὰρ αὐτὸς ἀκουέμεν αἴ κ' ἐθέλῃσθα,
δησάντων σ' ἐν νηῒ θοῇ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δ' αὐτοῦ πείρατ' ἀνήφθω,
ὄφρα κε τερπόμενος ὄπ' ἀκούσῃς Σειρήνοιϊν.
εἰ δέ κε λίσσηαι ἑτάρους λῦσαί τε κελεύῃς,
οἱ δέ σ' ἔτι πλεόνεσσι τότ' ἐν δεσμοῖσι διδέντων.

αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ τάς γε παρὲξ ἐλάσωσιν ἑταῖροι,
ἔνθα τοι οὐκέτ' ἔπειτα διηνεκέως ἀγορεύσω,
ὁπποτέρῃ δή τοι ὁδὸς ἔσσεται, ἀλλὰ καὶ αὐτὸς
θυμῷ βουλεύειν· ἐρέω δέ τοι ἀμφοτέρωθεν.
ἔνθεν μὲν γὰρ πέτραι ἐπηρεφέες, προτὶ δ' αὐτὰς
κῦμα μέγα ῥοχθεῖ κυανώπιδος Ἀμφιτρίτης·
Πλαγκτὰς δή τοι τάς γε θεοὶ μάκαρες καλέουσι.
τῇ μέν τ' οὐδὲ ποτητὰ παρέρχεται οὐδὲ πέλειαι
τρήρωνες, ταί τ' ἀμβροσίην Διὶ πατρὶ φέρουσιν,
ἀλλά τε καὶ τῶν αἰὲν ἀφαιρεῖται λὶς πέτρη·
ἀλλ' ἄλλην ἐνίησι πατὴρ ἐναρίθμιον εἶναι.
τῇ δ' οὔ πώ τις νηῦς φύγεν ἀνδρῶν, ἥ τις ἵκηται,
ἀλλά θ' ὁμοῦ πίνακάς τε νεῶν καὶ σώματα φωτῶν
κύμαθ' ἁλὸς φορέουσι πυρός τ' ὀλοοῖο θύελλαι.
οἴη δὴ κείνῃ γε παρέπλω ποντοπόρος νηῦς
Ἀργὼ πᾶσι μέλουσα, παρ' Αἰήταο πλέουσα·
καί νύ κε τὴν ἔνθ' ὦκα βάλεν μεγάλας ποτὶ πέτρας,
ἀλλ' Ἥρη παρέπεμψεν, ἐπεὶ φίλος ἦεν Ἰήσων.

οἱ δὲ δύω σκόπελοι ὁ μὲν οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἱκάνει
ὀξείῃ κορυφῇ, νεφέλη δέ μιν ἀμφιβέβηκε
κυανέη· τὸ μὲν οὔ ποτ' ἐρωεῖ, οὐδέ ποτ' αἴθρη
κείνου ἔχει κορυφὴν οὔτ' ἐν θέρει οὔτ' ἐν ὀπώρῃ·
οὐδέ κεν ἀμβαίη βροτὸς ἀνὴρ οὐδ' ἐπιβαίη,
οὐδ' εἴ οἱ χεῖρές γε ἐείκοσι καὶ πόδες εἶεν·
πέτρη γὰρ λίς ἐστι, περιξέστῃ ἐϊκυῖα.
μέσσῳ δ' ἐν σκοπέλῳ ἐστὶ σπέος ἠεροειδές,
πρὸς ζόφον εἰς Ἔρεβος τετραμμένον, ᾗ περ ἂν ὑμεῖς
νῆα παρὰ γλαφυρὴν ἰθύνετε, φαίδιμ' Ὀδυσσεῦ.
οὐδέ κεν ἐκ νηὸς γλαφυρῆς αἰζήϊος ἀνὴρ
τόξῳ ὀϊστεύσας κοῖλον σπέος εἰσαφίκοιτο.
ἔνθα δ' ἐνὶ Σκύλλη ναίει δεινὸν λελακυῖα.
τῆς ἦ τοι φωνὴ μὲν ὅση σκύλακος νεογιλλῆς
γίνεται, αὐτὴ δ' αὖτε πέλωρ κακόν· οὐδέ κέ τίς μιν
γηθήσειεν ἰδών, οὐδ' εἰ θεὸς ἀντιάσειε.
τῆς ἦ τοι πόδες εἰσὶ δυώδεκα πάντες ἄωροι,
ἓξ δέ τέ οἱ δειραὶ περιμήκεες, ἐν δὲ ἑκάστῃ
σμερδαλέη κεφαλή, ἐν δὲ τρίστοιχοι ὀδόντες,
πυκνοὶ καὶ θαμέες, πλεῖοι μέλανος θανάτοιο.
μέσση μέν τε κατὰ σπείους κοίλοιο δέδυκεν,
ἔξω δ' ἐξίσχει κεφαλὰς δεινοῖο βερέθρου·
αὐτοῦ δ' ἰχθυάᾳ, σκόπελον περιμαιμώωσα,
δελφῖνάς τε κύνας τε καὶ εἴ ποθι μεῖζον ἕλῃσι
κῆτος, ἃ μυρία βόσκει ἀγάστονος Ἀμφιτρίτη.
τῇ δ' οὔ πώ ποτε ναῦται ἀκήριοι εὐχετόωνται
παρφυγέειν σὺν νηΐ· φέρει δέ τε κρατὶ ἑκάστῳ
φῶτ' ἐξαρπάξασα νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο.

τὸν δ' ἕτερον σκόπελον χθαμαλώτερον ὄψει, Ὀδυσσεῦ,
πλησίον ἀλλήλων· καί κεν διοϊστεύσειας.
τῷ δ' ἐν ἐρινεός ἐστι μέγας, φύλλοισι τεθηλώς·
τῷ δ' ὑπὸ δῖα Χάρυβδις ἀναῤῥυβδεῖ μέλαν ὕδωρ.
τρὶς μὲν γάρ τ' ἀνίησιν ἐπ' ἤματι, τρὶς δ' ἀναρυβδεῖ,
δεινόν· μὴ σύ γε κεῖθι τύχοις, ὅτε ῥυβδήσειεν·
οὐ γάρ κεν ῥύσαιτό σ' ὑπὲκ κακοῦ οὐδ' ἐνοσίχθων.
ἀλλὰ μάλα Σκύλλης σκοπέλῳ πεπλημένος ὦκα
νῆα παρὲξ ἐλάαν, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτερόν ἐστιν
ἓξ ἑτάρους ἐν νηῒ ποθήμεναι ἢ ἅμα πάντας.»

ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀτυζόμενος προσέειπον·
«εἰ δ' ἄγε δή μοι τοῦτο, θεά, νημερτὲς ἐνίσπες,
εἴ πως τὴν ὀλοὴν μὲν ὑπεκπροφύγοιμι Χάρυβδιν,
τὴν δέ κ' ἀμυναίμην, ὅτε μοι σίνοιτό γ' ἑταίρους.»

ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δ' αὐτίκ' ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων·
«σχέτλιε, καὶ δὴ αὖ τοι πολεμήϊα ἔργα μέμηλε
καὶ πόνος, οὐδὲ θεοῖσιν ὑπείξεαι ἀθανάτοισιν;
ἡ δέ τοι οὐ θνητή, ἀλλ' ἀθάνατον κακόν ἐστι,
δεινόν τ' ἀργαλέον τε καὶ ἄγριον οὐδὲ μαχητόν·
οὐδέ τις ἔστ' ἀλκή· φυγέειν κάρτιστον ἀπ' αὐτῆς.
ἢν γὰρ δηθύνῃσθα κορυσσόμενος παρὰ πέτρῃ,
δείδω μή σ' ἐξαῦτις ἐφορμηθεῖσα κίχῃσι
τόσσῃσιν κεφαλῇσι, τόσους δ' ἐκ φῶτας ἕληται.
ἀλλὰ μάλα σφοδρῶς ἐλάαν, βωστρεῖν δὲ Κράταιϊν,
μητέρα τῆς Σκύλλης, ἥ μιν τέκε πῆμα βροτοῖσιν·
ἥ μιν ἔπειτ' ἀποπαύσει ἐς ὕστερον ὁρμηθῆναι.

Θρινακίην δ' ἐς νῆσον ἀφίξεαι· ἔνθα δὲ πολλαὶ
βόσκοντ' Ἠελίοιο βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα.
ἑπτὰ βοῶν ἀγέλαι, τόσα δ' οἰῶν πώεα καλά,
πεντήκοντα δ' ἕκαστα. γόνος δ' οὐ γίνεται αὐτῶν,
οὐδέ ποτε φθινύθουσι. θεαὶ δ' ἐπιποιμένες εἰσί,
νύμφαι ἐϋπλόκαμοι, Φαέθουσά τε Λαμπετίη τε,
ἃς τέκεν Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι δῖα Νέαιρα.
τὰς μὲν ἄρα θρέψασα τεκοῦσά τε πότνια μήτηρ
Θρινακίην ἐς νῆσον ἀπῴκισε τηλόθι ναίειν,
μῆλα φυλασσέμεναι πατρώϊα καὶ ἕλικας βοῦς.
τὰς εἰ μέν κ' ἀσινέας ἐάᾳς νόστου τε μέδηαι,
ἦ τ' ἂν ἔτ' εἰς Ἰθάκην, κακά περ πάσχοντες, ἵκοισθε·
εἰ δέ κε σίνηαι, τότε τοι τεκμαίρομ' ὄλεθρον
νηΐ τε καὶ ἑτάροισ'. αὐτὸς δ' εἴ πέρ κεν ἀλύξῃς,
ὀψὲ κακῶς νεῖαι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους.»

ὣς ἔφατ', αὐτίκα δὲ χρυσόθρονος ἤλυθεν Ἠώς.
ἡ μὲν ἔπειτ' ἀνὰ νῆσον ἀπέστιχε δῖα θεάων·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν ἐπὶ νῆα κιὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους
αὐτούς τ' ἀμβαίνειν ἀνά τε πρυμνήσια λῦσαι.
οἱ δ' αἶψ' εἴσβαινον καὶ ἐπὶ κληῖσι καθῖζον,
ἑξῆς δ' ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἡμῖν δ' αὖ κατόπισθε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
ἴκμενον οὖρον ἵει πλησίστιον, ἐσθλὸν ἑταῖρον,
Κίρκη ἐϋπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα.
αὐτίκα δ' ὅπλα ἕκαστα πονησάμενοι κατὰ νῆα
ἥμεθα· τὴν δ' ἄνεμός τε κυβερνήτης τ' ἴθυνε.
δὴ τότ' ἐγὼν ἑτάροισι μετηύδων ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·

«ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γὰρ χρὴ ἕνα ἴδμεναι οὐδὲ δύ' οἴους
θέσφαθ', ἅ μοι Κίρκη μυθήσατο, δῖα θεάων·
ἀλλ' ἐρέω μὲν ἐγών, ἵνα εἰδότες ἠὲ θάνωμεν
ἤ κεν ἀλευάμενοι θάνατον καὶ κῆρα φύγοιμεν.
Σειρήνων μὲν πρῶτον ἀνώγει θεσπεσιάων
φθόγγον ἀλεύασθαι καὶ λειμῶν' ἀνθεμόεντα.
οἶον ἔμ' ἠνώγει ὄπ' ἀκουέμεν· ἀλλά με δεσμῷ
δήσατ' ἐν ἀργαλέῳ, ὄφρ' ἔμπεδον αὐτόθι μίμνω,
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δ' αὐτοῦ πείρατ' ἀνήφθω.
εἰ δέ κε λίσσωμαι ὑμέας λῦσαί τε κελεύω,
ὑμεῖς δὲ πλεόνεσσι τότ' ἐν δεσμοῖσι πιέζειν.»

ἦ τοι ἐγὼ τὰ ἕκαστα λέγων ἑτάροισι πίφαυσκον·
τόφρα δὲ καρπαλίμως ἐξίκετο νηῦς ἐϋεργὴς
νῆσον Σειρήνοιϊν· ἔπειγε γὰρ οὖρος ἀπήμων.
αὐτίκ' ἔπειτ' ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο ἠδὲ γαλήνη

ἔπλετο νηνεμίη, κοίμησε δὲ κύματα δαίμων.
ἀνστάντες δ' ἕταροι νεὸς ἱστία μηρύσαντο,
καὶ τὰ μὲν ἐν νηῒ γλαφυρῇ θέσαν, οἱ δ' ἐπ' ἐρετμὰ
ἑζόμενοι λεύκαινον ὕδωρ ξεστῇσ' ἐλάτῃσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ κηροῖο μέγαν τροχὸν ὀξέϊ χαλκῷ
τυτθὰ διατμήξας χερσὶ στιβαρῇσι πίεζον·
αἶψα δ' ἰαίνετο κηρός, ἐπεὶ κέλετο μεγάλη ἲς
Ἠελίου τ' αὐγὴ Ὑπεριονίδαο ἄνακτος·
ἑξείης δ' ἑτάροισιν ἐπ' οὔατα πᾶσιν ἄλειψα.
οἱ δ' ἐν νηΐ μ' ἔδησαν ὁμοῦ χεῖράς τε πόδας τε
ὀρθὸν ἐν ἱστοπέδῃ, ἐκ δ' αὐτοῦ πείρατ' ἀνῆπτον·
αὐτοὶ δ' ἑζόμενοι πολιὴν ἅλα τύπτον ἐρετμοῖς.
ἀλλ' ὅτε τόσσον ἀπῆμεν, ὅσον τε γέγωνε βοήσας,
ῥίμφα διώκοντες, τὰς δ' οὐ λάθεν ὠκύαλος νηῦς
ἐγγύθεν ὀρνυμένη, λιγυρὴν δ' ἔντυνον ἀοιδήν·

«δεῦρ' ἄγ' ἰών, πολύαιν' Ὀδυσεῦ, μέγα κῦδος Ἀχαιῶν,
νῆα κατάστησον, ἵνα νωϊτέρην ὄπ' ἀκούσῃς.
οὐ γάρ πώ τις τῇδε παρήλασε νηῒ μελαίνῃ,
πρίν γ' ἡμέων μελίγηρυν ἀπὸ στομάτων ὄπ' ἀκοῦσαι,
ἀλλ' ὅ γε τερψάμενος νεῖται καὶ πλείονα εἰδώς.
ἴδμεν γάρ τοι πάνθ', ὅσ' ἐνὶ Τροίῃ εὐρείῃ
Ἀργεῖοι Τρῶές τε θεῶν ἰότητι μόγησαν,
ἴδμεν δ' ὅσσα γένηται ἐπὶ χθονὶ πουλυβοτείρῃ.»

ὣς φάσαν ἱεῖσαι ὄπα κάλλιμον· αὐτὰρ ἐμὸν κῆρ
ἤθελ' ἀκουέμεναι, λῦσαί τ' ἐκέλευον ἑταίρους
ὀφρύσι νευστάζων· οἱ δὲ προπεσόντες ἔρεσσον.
αὐτίκα δ' ἀνστάντες Περιμήδης Εὐρύλοχός τε
πλείοσί μ' ἐν δεσμοῖσι δέον μᾶλλόν τε πίεζον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δὴ τάς γε παρήλασαν οὐδ' ἔτ' ἔπειτα
φθόγγον Σειρήνων ἠκούομεν οὐδέ τ' ἀοιδήν,
αἶψ' ἀπὸ κηρὸν ἕλοντο ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι,
ὅν σφιν ἐπ' ὠσὶν ἄλειψ', ἐμέ τ' ἐκ δεσμῶν ἀνέλυσαν.

ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν, αὐτίκ' ἔπειτα
καπνὸν καὶ μέγα κῦμα ἴδον καὶ δοῦπον ἄκουσα.
τῶν δ' ἄρα δεισάντων ἐκ χειρῶν ἔπτατ' ἐρετμά,
βόμβησαν δ' ἄρα πάντα κατὰ ῥόον· ἔσχετο δ' αὐτοῦ
νηῦς, ἐπεὶ οὐκέτ' ἐρετμὰ προήκεα χερσὶν ἔπειγον.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ νηὸς ἰὼν ὤτρυνον ἑταίρους
μειλιχίοισ' ἐπέεσσι παρασταδὸν ἄνδρα ἕκαστον·

«ὦ φίλοι, οὐ γάρ πώ τι κακῶν ἀδαήμονές εἰμεν·
οὐ μὲν δὴ τόδε μεῖζον ἔπι κακόν, ἢ ὅτε Κύκλωψ
εἴλει ἐνὶ σπῆϊ γλαφυρῷ κρατερῆφι βίηφιν·
ἀλλὰ καὶ ἔνθεν ἐμῇ ἀρετῇ βουλῇ τε νόῳ τε
ἐκφύγομεν, καί που τῶνδε μνήσεσθαι ὀΐω.
νῦν δ' ἄγεθ', ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πειθώμεθα πάντες.
ὑμεῖς μὲν κώπῃσιν ἁλὸς ῥηγμῖνα βαθεῖαν
τύπτετε κληΐδεσσιν ἐφήμενοι, αἴ κέ ποθι Ζεὺς
δώῃ τόνδε γ' ὄλεθρον ὑπεκφυγέειν καὶ ἀλύξαι·
σοὶ δέ, κυβερνῆθ', ὧδ' ἐπιτέλλομαι· ἀλλ' ἐνὶ θυμῷ
βάλλευ, ἐπεὶ νηὸς γλαφυρῆς οἰήϊα νωμᾷς·
τούτου μὲν καπνοῦ καὶ κύματος ἐκτὸς ἔεργε
νῆα, σὺ δὲ σκοπέλου ἐπιμαίεο, μή σε λάθῃσι
κεῖσ' ἐξορμήσασα καὶ ἐς κακὸν ἄμμε βάλῃσθα.»

ὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δ' ὦκα ἐμοῖσ' ἐπέεσσι πίθοντο.
Σκύλλην δ' οὐκέτ' ἐμυθεόμην, ἄπρηκτον ἀνίην,
μή πώς μοι δείσαντες ἀπολλήξειαν ἑταῖροι
εἰρεσίης, ἐντὸς δὲ πυκάζοιεν σφέας αὐτούς.
καὶ τότε δὴ Κίρκης μὲν ἐφημοσύνης ἀλεγεινῆς
λανθανόμην, ἐπεὶ οὔ τί μ' ἀνώγει θωρήσσεσθαι·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καταδὺς κλυτὰ τεύχεα καὶ δύο δοῦρε
μάκρ' ἐν χερσὶν ἑλὼν εἰς ἴκρια νηὸς ἔβαινον
πρῴρης· ἔνθεν γάρ μιν ἐδέγμην πρῶτα φανεῖσθαι
Σκύλλην πετραίην, ἥ μοι φέρε πῆμ' ἑτάροισιν.
οὐδέ πῃ ἀθρῆσαι δυνάμην· ἔκαμον δέ μοι ὄσσε
πάντῃ παπταίνοντι πρὸς ἠεροειδέα πέτρην.

ἡμεῖς μὲν στεινωπὸν ἀνεπλέομεν γοόωντες·
ἔνθεν γὰρ Σκύλλη, ἑτέρωθι δὲ δῖα Χάρυβδις
δεινὸν ἀνεῤῥύβδησε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
ἦ τοι ὅτ' ἐξεμέσειε, λέβης ὣς ἐν πυρὶ πολλῷ
πᾶσ' ἀναμορμύρεσκε κυκωμένη· ὑψόσε δ' ἄχνη
ἄκροισι σκοπέλοισιν ἐπ' ἀμφοτέροισιν ἔπιπτεν.
ἀλλ' ὅτ' ἀναβρόξειε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ,
πᾶσ' ἔντοσθε φάνεσκε κυκωμένη, ἀμφὶ δὲ πέτρη
δεινὸν βεβρύχει, ὑπένερθε δὲ γαῖα φάνεσκε
ψάμμῳ κυανέη· τοὺς δὲ χλωρὸν δέος ᾕρει.
ἡμεῖς μὲν πρὸς τὴν ἴδομεν δείσαντες ὄλεθρον·
τόφρα δέ μοι Σκύλλη γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑταίρους
ἓξ ἕλεθ', οἳ χερσίν τε βίηφί τε φέρτατοι ἦσαν.
σκεψάμενος δ' ἐς νῆα θοὴν ἅμα καὶ μεθ' ἑταίρους
ἤδη τῶν ἐνόησα πόδας καὶ χεῖρας ὕπερθεν
ὑψόσ' ἀειρομένων· ἐμὲ δὲ φθέγγοντο καλεῦντες
ἐξονομακλήδην, τότε γ' ὕστατον, ἀχνύμενοι κῆρ.
ὡς δ' ὅτ' ἐπὶ προβόλῳ ἁλιεὺς περιμήκεϊ ῥάβδῳ
ἰχθύσι τοῖς ὀλίγοισι δόλον κατὰ εἴδατα βάλλων
ἐς πόντον προΐησι βοὸς κέρας ἀγραύλοιο,
ἀσπαίροντα δ' ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἔῤῥιψε θύραζε,
ὣς οἵ γ' ἀσπαίροντες ἀείροντο προτὶ πέτρας.
αὐτοῦ δ' εἰνὶ θύρῃσι κατήσθιε κεκλήγοντας,
χεῖρας ἐμοὶ ὀρέγοντας ἐν αἰνῇ δηϊοτῆτι.
οἴκτιστον δὴ κεῖνο ἐμοῖσ' ἴδον ὀφθαλμοῖσι
πάντων, ὅσσ' ἐμόγησα πόρους ἁλὸς ἐξερεείνων.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πέτρας φύγομεν δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν
Σκύλλην τ', αὐτίκ' ἔπειτα θεοῦ ἐς ἀμύμονα νῆσον
ἱκόμεθ'· ἔνθα δ' ἔσαν καλαὶ βόες εὐρυμέτωποι,
πολλὰ δὲ ἴφια μῆλ' Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο.
δὴ τότ' ἐγὼν ἔτι πόντῳ ἐὼν ἐν νηῒ μελαίνῃ
μυκηθμοῦ τ' ἤκουσα βοῶν αὐλιζομενάων
οἰῶν τε βληχήν· καί μοι ἔπος ἔμπεσε θυμῷ
μάντιος ἀλαοῦ, Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,
Κίρκης τ' Αἰαίης, ἥ μοι μάλα πόλλ' ἐπέτελλε
νῆσον ἀλεύασθαι τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο.
δὴ τότ' ἐγὼν ἑτάροισι μετηύδων ἀχνύμενος κῆρ·

«κέκλυτέ μευ μύθων, κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι,
ὄφρ' ὕμιν εἴπω μαντήϊα Τειρεσίαο
Κίρκης τ' Αἰαίης, ἥ μοι μάλα πόλλ' ἐπέτελλε
νῆσον ἀλεύασθαι τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο·
ἔνθα γὰρ αἰνότατον κακὸν ἔμμεναι ἄμμιν ἔφασκεν.
ἀλλὰ παρὲξ τὴν νῆσον ἐλαύνετε νῆα μέλαιναν.»

ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δὲ κατεκλάσθη φίλον ἦτορ.
αὐτίκα δ' Εὐρύλοχος στυγερῷ μ' ἠμείβετο μύθῳ·

«σχέτλιός εἰς, Ὀδυσεῦ, περί τοι μένος, οὐδέ τι γυῖα
κάμνεις· ἦ ῥά νυ σοί γε σιδήρεα πάντα τέτυκται,
ὅς ῥ' ἑτάρους καμάτῳ ἀδηκότας ἠδὲ καὶ ὕπνῳ
οὐκ ἐάᾳς γαίης ἐπιβήμεναι, ἔνθα κεν αὖτε
νήσῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ λαρὸν τετυκοίμεθα δόρπον,
ἀλλ' αὔτως διὰ νύκτα θοὴν ἀλάλησθαι ἄνωγας,
νήσου ἀποπλαγχθέντας, ἐν ἠεροειδέϊ πόντῳ.
ἐκ νυκτῶν δ' ἄνεμοι χαλεποί, δηλήματα νηῶν,
γίνονται· πῇ κέν τις ὑπεκφύγοι αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον,
ἤν πως ἐξαπίνης ἔλθῃ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα,
ἢ νότου ἢ ζεφύροιο δυσαέος, οἵ τε μάλιστα
νῆα διαῤῥαίουσι, θεῶν ἀέκητι ἀνάκτων;
ἀλλ' ἦ τοι νῦν μὲν πειθώμεθα νυκτὶ μελαίνῃ
δόρπον θ' ὁπλισόμεσθα θοῇ παρὰ νηῒ μένοντες·
ἠῶθεν δ' ἀναβάντες ἐνήσομεν εὐρέϊ πόντῳ.»

ὣς ἔφατ' Εὐρύλοχος, ἐπὶ δ' ᾔνεον ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι.
καὶ τότε δὴ γίνωσκον, ὃ δὴ κακὰ μήδετο δαίμων,
καί μιν φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδων·

«Εὐρύλοχ', ἦ μάλα δή με βιάζετε μοῦνον ἐόντα.
ἀλλ' ἄγε νῦν μοι πάντες ὀμόσσατε καρτερὸν ὅρκον·
εἴ κέ τιν' ἠὲ βοῶν ἀγέλην ἢ πῶϋ μέγ' οἰῶν
εὕρωμεν, μή πού τις ἀτασθαλίῃσι κακῇσιν
ἢ βοῦν ἠέ τι μῆλον ἀποκτάνῃ· ἀλλὰ ἕκηλοι
ἐσθίετε βρώμην, τὴν ἀθανάτη πόρε Κίρκη.»

ὣς ἐφάμην, οἱ δ' αὐτίκ' ἀπώμνυον ὡς ἐκέλευον.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' ὄμοσάν τε τελεύτησάν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
στήσαμεν ἐν λιμένι γλαφυρῷ εὐεργέα νῆα
ἄγχ' ὕδατος γλυκεροῖο καὶ ἐξαπέβησαν ἑταῖροι
νηός, ἔπειτα δὲ δόρπον ἐπισταμένως τετύκοντο.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
μνησάμενοι δὴ ἔπειτα φίλους ἔκλαιον ἑταίρους,
οὓς ἔφαγε Σκύλλη γλαφυρῆς ἐκ νηὸς ἑλοῦσα·
κλαιόντεσσι δὲ τοῖσιν ἐπήλυθε νήδυμος ὕπνος.
ἦμος δὲ τρίχα νυκτὸς ἔην, μετὰ δ' ἄστρα βεβήκει,
ὦρσεν ἔπι ζαὴν ἄνεμον νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς
λαίλαπι θεσπεσίῃ, σὺν δὲ νεφέεσσι κάλυψε
γαῖαν ὁμοῦ καὶ πόντον· ὀρώρει δ' οὐρανόθεν νύξ.

ἦμος δ' ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς,
νῆα μὲν ὡρμίσαμεν, κοῖλον σπέος εἰσερύσαντες·
ἔνθα δ' ἔσαν Νυμφέων καλοὶ χοροὶ ἠδὲ θόωκοι·
καὶ τότ' ἐγὼν ἀγορὴν θέμενος μετὰ πᾶσιν ἔειπον·

«ὦ φίλοι, ἐν γὰρ νηῒ θοῇ βρῶσίς τε πόσις τε
ἔστιν, τῶν δὲ βοῶν ἀπεχώμεθα, μή τι πάθωμεν·
δεινοῦ γὰρ θεοῦ αἵδε βόες καὶ ἴφια μῆλα,
Ἠελίου, ὃς πάντ' ἐφορᾷ καὶ πάντ' ἐπακούει.»

ὣς ἐφάμην, τοῖσιν δ' ἐπεπείθετο θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
μῆνα δὲ πάντ' ἄλληκτος ἄη νότος, οὐδέ τις ἄλλος
γίνετ' ἔπειτ' ἀνέμων, εἰ μὴ εὖρός τε νότος τε.
οἱ δ' εἷος μὲν σῖτον ἔχον καὶ οἶνον ἐρυθρόν,
τόφρα βοῶν ἀπέχοντο λιλαιόμενοι βιότοιο·
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ νηὸς ἐξέφθιτο ἤϊα πάντα,
καὶ δὴ ἄγρην ἐφέπεσκον ἀλητεύοντες ἀνάγκῃ,
ἰχθῦς ὄρνιθάς τε, φίλας ὅ τι χεῖρας ἵκοιτο,
γναμπτοῖσ' ἀγκίστροισιν· ἔτειρε δὲ γαστέρα λιμός·
δὴ τότ' ἐγὼν ἀνὰ νῆσον ἀπέστιχον, ὄφρα θεοῖσιν
εὐξαίμην, εἴ τίς μοι ὁδὸν φήνειε νέεσθαι.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ διὰ νήσου ἰὼν ἤλυξα ἑταίρους,
χεῖρας νιψάμενος, ὅθ' ἐπὶ σκέπας ἦν ἀνέμοιο,
ἠρώμην πάντεσσι θεοῖσ', οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν·
οἱ δ' ἄρα μοι γλυκὺν ὕπνον ἐπὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔχευαν.
Εὐρύλοχος δ' ἑτάροισι κακῆς ἐξήρχετο βουλῆς·

«κέκλυτέ μευ μύθων, κακά περ πάσχοντες ἑταῖροι·
πάντες μὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοι δειλοῖσι βροτοῖσι,
λιμῷ δ' οἴκτιστον θανέειν καὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν.
ἀλλ' ἄγετ', Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας
ῥέξομεν ἀθανάτοισι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσιν.
εἰ δέ κεν εἰς Ἰθάκην ἀφικοίμεθα, πατρίδα γαῖαν,
αἶψά κεν Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι πίονα νηὸν
τεύξομεν, ἐν δέ κε θεῖμεν ἀγάλματα πολλὰ καὶ ἐσθλά.
εἰ δὲ χολωσάμενός τι βοῶν ὀρθοκραιράων
νῆ' ἐθέλῃ ὀλέσαι, ἐπὶ δ' ἕσπωνται θεοὶ ἄλλοι,
βούλομ' ἅπαξ πρὸς κῦμα χανὼν ἀπὸ θυμὸν ὀλέσσαι
ἢ δηθὰ στρεύγεσθαι ἐὼν ἐν νήσῳ ἐρήμῃ.»

ὣς ἔφατ' Εὐρύλοχος, ἐπὶ δ' ᾔνεον ἄλλοι ἑταῖροι.
αὐτίκα δ' Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλάσαντες ἀρίστας
ἐγγύθεν· - οὐ γὰρ τῆλε νεὸς κυανοπρῴροιο
βοσκέσκονθ' ἕλικες καλαὶ βόες εὐρυμέτωποι· -
τὰς δὲ περιστήσαντο καὶ εὐχετόωντο θεοῖσι,
φύλλα δρεψάμενοι τέρενα δρυὸς ὑψικόμοιο·
οὐ γὰρ ἔχον κρῖ λευκὸν ἐϋσσέλμου ἐπὶ νηός.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' εὔξαντο καὶ ἔσφαξαν καὶ ἔδειραν,
μηρούς τ' ἐξέταμον κατά τε κνίσῃ ἐκάλυψαν,
δίπτυχα ποιήσαντες, ἐπ' αὐτῶν δ' ὠμοθέτησαν.
οὐδ' εἶχον μέθυ λεῖψαι ἐπ' αἰθομένοισ' ἱεροῖσιν,
ἀλλ' ὕδατι σπένδοντες ἐπώπτων ἔγκατα πάντα.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ κατὰ μῆρ' ἐκάη καὶ σπλάγχνα πάσαντο,
μίστυλλόν τ' ἄρα τἆλλα καὶ ἀμφ' ὀβελοῖσιν ἔπειρον.

καὶ τότε μοι βλεφάρων ἐξέσσυτο νήδυμος ὕπνος·
βῆν δ' ἰέναι ἐπὶ νῆα θοὴν καὶ θῖνα θαλάσσης.
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ σχεδὸν ἦα κιὼν νεὸς ἀμφιελίσσης,
καὶ τότε με κνίσης ἀμφήλυθεν ἡδὺς ἀϋτμή·
οἰμώξας δὲ θεοῖσι μετ' ἀθανάτοισι γεγώνευν·

«Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδ' ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
ἦ με μάλ' εἰς ἄτην κοιμήσατε νηλέϊ ὕπνῳ,
οἱ δ' ἕταροι μέγα ἔργον ἐμητίσαντο μένοντες.»

ὠκέα δ' Ἠελίῳ Ὑπερίονι ἄγγελος ἦλθε
Λαμπετίη τανύπεπλος, ὅ οἱ βόας ἔκταμεν ἡμεῖς.
αὐτίκα δ' ἀθανάτοισι μετηύδα χωόμενος κῆρ·

«Ζεῦ πάτερ ἠδ' ἄλλοι μάκαρες θεοὶ αἰὲν ἐόντες,
τεῖσαι δὴ ἑτάρους Λαερτιάδεω Ὀδυσῆος,
οἵ μευ βοῦς ἔκτειναν ὑπέρβιον, ᾗσιν ἐγώ γε
χαίρεσκον μὲν ἰὼν εἰς οὐρανὸν ἀστερόεντα,
ἠδ' ὁπότ' ἂψ ἐπὶ γαῖαν ἀπ' οὐρανόθεν προτραποίμην.
εἰ δέ μοι οὐ τείσουσι βοῶν ἐπιεικέ' ἀμοιβήν,
δύσομαι εἰς Ἀΐδαο καὶ ἐν νεκύεσσι φαείνω.»

τὸν δ' ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη νεφεληγερέτα Ζεύς·
«Ἠέλι', ἦ τοι μὲν σὺ μετ' ἀθανάτοισι φάεινε
καὶ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν·
τῶν δέ κ' ἐγὼ τάχα νῆα θοὴν ἀργῆτι κεραυνῷ
τυτθὰ βαλὼν κεάσαιμι μέσῳ ἐνὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ.»

ταῦτα δ' ἐγὼν ἤκουσα Καλυψοῦς ἠϋκόμοιο·
ἡ δ' ἔφη Ἑρμείαο διακτόρου αὐτὴ ἀκοῦσαι.

αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥ' ἐπὶ νῆα κατήλυθον ἠδὲ θάλασσαν,
νείκεον ἄλλοθεν ἄλλον ἐπισταδόν, οὐδέ τι μῆχος
εὑρέμεναι δυνάμεσθα· βόες δ' ἀποτέθνασαν ἤδη.
τοῖσιν δ' αὐτίκ' ἔπειτα θεοὶ τέραα προὔφαινον·
εἷρπον μὲν ῥινοί, κρέα δ' ἀμφ' ὀβελοῖσ' ἐμεμύκει,
ὀπταλέα τε καὶ ὠμά· βοῶν δ' ὣς γίνετο φωνή.

ἑξῆμαρ μὲν ἔπειτα ἐμοὶ ἐρίηρες ἑταῖροι
δαίνυντ' Ἠελίοιο βοῶν ἐλόωντες ἀρίστας·
ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ ἕβδομον ἦμαρ ἐπὶ Ζεὺς θῆκε Κρονίων,
καὶ τότ' ἔπειτ' ἄνεμος μὲν ἐπαύσατο λαίλαπι θύων,
ἡμεῖς δ' αἶψ' ἀναβάντες ἐνήκαμεν εὐρέϊ πόντῳ,
ἱστὸν στησάμενοι ἀνά θ' ἱστία λεύκ' ἐρύσαντες.

ἀλλ' ὅτε δὴ τὴν νῆσον ἐλείπομεν οὐδέ τις ἄλλη
φαίνετο γαιάων, ἀλλ' οὐρανὸς ἠδὲ θάλασσα,
δὴ τότε κυανέην νεφέλην ἔστησε Κρονίων
νηὸς ὕπερ γλαφυρῆς, ἤχλυσε δὲ πόντος ὑπ' αὐτῆς.
ἡ δ' ἔθει οὐ μάλα πολλὸν ἐπὶ χρόνον· αἶψα γὰρ ἦλθε
κεκληγὼς ζέφυρος μεγάλῃ σὺν λαίλαπι θύων.
ἱστοῦ δὲ προτόνους ἔρρηξ’ ἀνέμοιο θύελλα
ἀμφοτέρους, ἱστὸς δ' ὀπίσω πέσεν, ὅπλα τε πάντα
εἰς ἄντλον κατέχυνθ'· ὁ δ' ἄρα πρυμνῇ ἐνὶ νηῒ
πλῆξε κυβερνήτεω κεφαλήν, σὺν δ' ὀστέ' ἄραξε
πάντ' ἄμυδις κεφαλῆς· ὁ δ' ἄρ' ἀρνευτῆρι ἐοικὼς
κάππεσ' ἀπ' ἰκριόφιν, λίπε δ' ὀστέα θυμὸς ἀγήνωρ.
Ζεὺς δ' ἄμυδις βρόντησε καὶ ἔμβαλε νηῒ κεραυνόν·
ἡ δ' ἐλελίχθη πᾶσα Διὸς πληγεῖσα κεραυνῷ,
ἐν δὲ θεείου πλῆτο· πέσον δ' ἐκ νηὸς ἑταῖροι.
οἱ δὲ κορώνῃσιν ἴκελοι περὶ νῆα μέλαιναν
κύμασιν ἐμφορέοντο, θεὸς δ' ἀποαίνυτο νόστον.

αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ διὰ νηὸς ἐφοίτων, ὄφρ' ἀπὸ τοίχους
λῦσε κλύδων τρόπιος· τὴν δὲ ψιλὴν φέρε κῦμα.
ἐκ δέ οἱ ἱστὸν ἄραξε ποτὶ τρόπιν· αὐτὰρ ἐπ' αὐτῷ
ἐπίτονος βέβλητο, βοὸς ῥινοῖο τετευχώς·
τῷ ῥ' ἄμφω συνέεργον ὁμοῦ τρόπιν ἠδὲ καὶ ἱστόν,
ἑζόμενος δ' ἐπὶ τοῖς φερόμην ὀλοοῖσ' ἀνέμοισιν.

ἔνθ' ἦ τοι ζέφυρος μὲν ἐπαύσατο λαίλαπι θύων,
ἦλθε δ' ἐπὶ νότος ὦκα, φέρων ἐμῷ ἄλγεα θυμῷ,
ὄφρ' ἔτι τὴν ὀλοὴν ἀναμετρήσαιμι Χάρυβδιν.
παννύχιος φερόμην, ἅμα δ' ἠελίῳ ἀνιόντι
ἦλθον ἐπὶ Σκύλλης σκόπελον δεινήν τε Χάρυβδιν.
ἡ μὲν ἀνεῤῥύβδησε θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ ποτὶ μακρὸν ἐρινεὸν ὑψόσ' ἀερθείς,
τῷ προσφὺς ἐχόμην ὡς νυκτερίς· οὐδέ πῃ εἶχον
οὔτε στηρίξαι ποσὶν ἔμπεδον οὔτ' ἐπιβῆναι·
ῥίζαι γὰρ ἑκὰς εἶχον, ἀπήωροι δ' ἔσαν ὄζοι
μακροί τε μεγάλοι τε, κατεσκίαον δὲ Χάρυβδιν.
νωλεμέως δ' ἐχόμην, ὄφρ' ἐξεμέσειεν ὀπίσσω
ἱστὸν καὶ τρόπιν αὖτις· ἐελδομένῳ δέ μοι ἦλθον,
ὄψ'· ἦμος δ' ἐπὶ δόρπον ἀνὴρ ἀγορῆθεν ἀνέστη
κρίνων νείκεα πολλὰ δικαζομένων αἰζηῶν,
τῆμος δὴ τά γε δοῦρα Χαρύβδιος ἐξεφαάνθη.
ἧκα δ' ἐγὼ καθύπερθε πόδας καὶ χεῖρε φέρεσθαι,
μέσσῳ δ' ἐνδούπησα παρὲξ περιμήκεα δοῦρα,
ἑζόμενος δ' ἐπὶ τοῖσι διήρεσα χερσὶν ἐμῇσι.
Σκύλλην δ' οὐκέτ' ἔασε πατὴρ ἀνδρῶν τε θεῶν τε
εἰσιδέειν· οὐ γάρ κεν ὑπέκφυγον αἰπὺν ὄλεθρον.

ἔνθεν δ' ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ
νῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην πέλασαν θεοί, ἔνθα Καλυψὼ
ναίει ἐϋπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα,
ἥ μ' ἐφίλει τ' ἐκόμει τε. τί τοι τάδε μυθολογεύω;
ἤδη γάρ τοι χθιζὸς ἐμυθεόμην ἐνὶ οἴκῳ
σοί τε καὶ ἰφθίμῃ ἀλόχῳ· ἐχθρὸν δέ μοί ἐστιν
αὖτις ἀριζήλως εἰρημένα μυθολογεύειν.»

ODYSSEY 12

But when our ship had left the current of the river Oceanus and had come to the swell of the wide-wayed sea and to the island of Aeaea, where the house and dancing-grounds of early-born Dawn are, and the risings of the Sun, there we came and beached our ship upon the sands, and we ourselves disembarked upon the breaking shore of the sea; and there we fell into a deep sleep and awaited the divine Dawn.

And when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, I sent my comrades to the halls of Circe to fetch the body of the dead Elpenor. Then, swiftly cutting logs of wood where the headland rose highest, we buried him, grieving, shedding warm tears. And when the corpse was burned, along with the dead man's arms, we heaped up a barrow, and dragging a stone slab upon it, we planted his well-fitted oar at the very peak of the tomb.

So we attended to each of these duties; nor did our return from Hades escape Circe’s notice, but very quickly she came, adorned for our arrival; and with her, her handmaidens brought bread and much meat and gleaming red wine. And standing in our midst, the brightest of goddesses spoke:

"Rash men, you who have gone down living to the house of Hades, twice-doomed to die, while other men die but once. But come, eat this food and drink this wine here for the whole day; and as soon as dawn appears, you shall sail; and I myself will show you the way and make each thing clear, so that you do not, through some cruel mischance, suffer any painful harm, whether on the sea or on the land."

So she spoke, and our proud hearts were persuaded. Thus for the whole day long, until the setting of the sun, we sat feasting on boundless meat and sweet wine; but when the sun went down and darkness fell, my men lay down to sleep beside the ship's stern-cables, but she took me by the hand, and leading me away from my dear comrades, had me sit, and lay down beside me and asked of all that had passed; and I told her everything in its proper order. Then the revered Circe spoke to me and said:

"So all these things have been brought to pass. Now listen to what I shall tell you, and a god himself will help you remember. First you will come to the Sirens, who bewitch all men who happen to approach them. Whoever draws near in his ignorance and hears the voice of the Sirens, for him his wife and infant children will never stand to welcome him home, nor do they rejoice; for the Sirens bewitch him with their clear-toned song, as they sit in a meadow; and all around is a great heap of bones of men left to rot, and about the bones the skin shrivels. But you must row past, and anoint the ears of your comrades after kneading honey-sweet wax, so that none of the others may hear. But if you yourself wish to listen, have them bind you in the swift ship by your hands and feet, upright in the mast-step, and let the rope ends be tied to the mast itself, so that you may delight in hearing the Sirens' voice. And if you should implore your men and command them to free you, then let them bind you fast in yet more bonds.

But when your comrades have rowed past them, from that point I will not tell you in detail which of two ways will be yours, but you yourself must decide in your own heart. I shall tell you of both. On one side there are overhanging rocks, and against them the great wave of dark-eyed Amphitrite roars loudly; the blessed gods call these the Wandering Rocks. By that way not even winged things may pass, not even the timorous doves that carry ambrosia to Father Zeus, but the sheer rock always snatches one of them away; yet the Father sends another to make their number whole again. And by that way no ship of men has ever escaped that has once come there, but the waves of the sea and storms of destructive fire carry away the timbers of the ships and the bodies of the men together. Only one sea-going ship has ever sailed past there, the Argo, famed in all men's songs, on her voyage from Aeetes; and even she would have been quickly dashed there against the great rocks, but Hera sent her through, for Jason was dear to her.

But the other way has two cliffs; one of them reaches the broad heavens with its sharp peak, and a dark blue cloud envelops it, which never disperses, nor does clear sky ever grace its summit, neither in summer nor in autumn. No mortal man could ever ascend or set foot upon it, not even if he had twenty hands and as many feet; for the rock is smooth, as if polished all around. And in the middle of the cliff there is a misty cave, turned toward the west, toward Erebus; and it is this way that you should steer your hollow ship, glorious Odysseus. Not even a strong man shooting with a bow from the hollow ship could reach the deep cave. Therein dwells Scylla, yelping terribly. Her voice is no louder than that of a newborn pup, but she herself is an evil monster; no one would rejoice at the sight of her, not even if a god should meet her. She has twelve feet, all of them dangling and misshapen, and six immensely long necks, and on each neck is a grisly head, and in it are three rows of teeth, thick-set and crowded, full of black death. Her lower half is sunk down within the hollow cave, but she holds her heads out from the dreadful chasm, and there she fishes, searching hungrily around the cliff, for dolphins or dogfish, or if she can catch some larger beast, of which the ever-moaning Amphitrite feeds countless thousands. By this way sailors can never boast that they have fled past her unharmed with their ship; for with each of her heads she carries off a man, snatching him from the dark-prowed ship.

The other cliff you will see is lower, Odysseus, close to the first; you could shoot an arrow across. On it there is a great wild fig-tree, rich in leaves; and beneath it divine Charybdis sucks down the black water. Three times a day she spews it forth, and three times she sucks it down terribly. May you not be there when she sucks it in; for not even the Earth-Shaker could save you from that evil. No, you must hug Scylla's cliff and swiftly drive your ship past; for it is far better to mourn six comrades in your ship than all of them at once."

So she spoke, and I, distraught, answered her: "Come, goddess, tell me this truly: could I somehow flee from the baleful Charybdis, and yet fend off that other one, when she tries to harm my comrades?"

So I spoke, and the brightest of goddesses answered at once: "Stubborn man, must your mind always be on the deeds of war and on hardship? Will you not yield even to the immortal gods? For she is not mortal, but an immortal affliction, terrible, grievous, and savage, one that cannot be fought. There is no defense; to flee from her is the bravest course. For if you linger to arm yourself by the rock, I fear that she may lunge forth once again and seize you with as many heads, and snatch away as many men. No, row with all your might, and call upon Crataeis, the mother of Scylla, who bore her as a plague to mortals; she will then keep her from lunging out a second time.

Then you will reach the island of Thrinacia; there many kine of Helios and his sturdy sheep are grazing. Seven herds of kine, and as many fair flocks of sheep, with fifty in each. They bear no young, nor do they ever die. And their shepherds are goddesses, the nymphs with lovely tresses, Phaethusa and Lampetie, whom divine Neaera bore to Helios Hyperion. After their revered mother had borne and raised them, she sent them to the island of Thrinacia to dwell afar, to guard their father's sheep and his crook-horned kine. If you leave these unharmed and think only of your return, you may yet reach Ithaca, though after much suffering; but if you harm them, then I foretell destruction for your ship and your comrades. And if you yourself should escape, you will return late and in misery, having lost all your comrades."

So she spoke, and at once came golden-throned Dawn. Then the brightest of goddesses departed up the island; but I went to my ship and urged my comrades to embark themselves and to loose the stern-cables. They boarded swiftly and sat down at the benches, and sitting in order, they struck the gray sea with their oars. And behind our dark-prowed ship a sail-filling wind began to blow, a welcome companion, sent by Circe of the lovely tresses, the dread goddess with a human voice. At once we made all the tackle fast throughout the ship and sat down; and the wind and the helmsman kept her course. Then, with a heavy heart, I spoke among my comrades:

"My friends, it is not right that only one or two of us should know the prophecies that Circe, brightest of goddesses, told to me. Therefore I will tell you, so that knowing our fate we may either die or, avoiding it, perhaps escape death and doom. First, she bids us avoid the voice of the divine Sirens and their flowery meadow. She bade me alone to hear their voice; but you must with a harsh bond bind me, so that I remain fast where I am, upright in the mast-step, and let the rope ends be tied to the mast itself. And if I should implore you and command you to set me free, then you must constrain me with yet more bonds."

Thus I explained each thing and laid it before my comrades. Meanwhile our well-built ship swiftly reached the island of the two Sirens, for a favorable wind drove her on. Then at once the wind ceased and a calm came on,

a windless stillness, for a divinity had lulled the waves to sleep. My comrades rose and furled the ship's sail, and stowed it in the hollow ship, and then, at their oars, they whitened the water with the blades of polished fir. But I took a great wheel of wax and with my sharp bronze sword cut it into small pieces and kneaded them with my strong hands. Soon the wax grew warm, for my great strength compelled it, as did the rays of the lord Sun, son of Hyperion. In turn, I anointed the ears of all my comrades. And they bound me in the ship, both hands and feet, upright in the mast-step, and fastened the rope ends to the mast; and they themselves, sitting down, struck the gray sea with their oars. But when we were as far off as a man's voice can carry, sailing swiftly on, the swift-faring ship did not escape their notice as it drew near, and they raised their clear-toned song:

"Come hither, much-praised Odysseus, great glory of the Achaeans, stay your ship, so that you may listen to our two voices. For no man has ever sailed past this place in his black ship before he has heard the honey-sweet voice from our mouths, but he goes on his way delighted, and knowing more than before. For we know all the things that in wide Troy the Argives and Trojans suffered through the will of the gods, and we know all that comes to pass on the all-nurturing earth."

So they spoke, sending forth their beautiful voice; and my heart yearned to listen, and I commanded my comrades to free me, signaling with my brows; but they bent to their oars and rowed on. And at once Perimedes and Eurylochus rose up and bound me with more ropes and drew them tighter. But when they had rowed past them, and we could no longer hear the Sirens' voice or their song, my trusty comrades quickly took away the wax with which I had anointed their ears, and freed me from my bonds.

But when we had left the island behind, at once I saw smoke and a great wave, and I heard a booming sound. My men were so afraid that the oars flew from their hands, and all went splashing in the current; and the ship was held fast right there, since they no longer drove the long oars with their hands. But I went through the ship and roused my comrades, standing by each man and speaking with gentle words:

"My friends, we are not, after all, unacquainted with evils. Surely this evil is no greater than when the Cyclops, with his mighty strength, imprisoned us in his hollow cave; but even from there, through my valor, counsel, and wit, we escaped, and I believe you will remember these things as well. So come now, let us all do as I say. You, sitting at the benches, strike the deep surf of the sea with your oar-blades, to see if somehow Zeus will grant that we escape and avoid this destruction. And to you, helmsman, I give this command; lay it to heart, since you wield the rudder of our hollow ship: keep the ship well away from this smoke and this wave, and hug the cliff, lest you forget and she swerve that way, and you cast us all into ruin."

So I spoke, and they quickly obeyed my words. But I did not speak of Scylla, that helpless anguish, fearing that my comrades, in their terror, might stop rowing, and huddle together inside the ship. And in that moment I forgot Circe's grievous command, for she had told me by no means to arm myself; but I put on my glorious armor and, taking two long spears in my hands, went up onto the ship's foredeck, for from there I expected Scylla of the rock to first appear, she who brought my comrades such woe. But I could not spy her anywhere; and my eyes grew weary from gazing everywhere at the misty rock.

Then we sailed up the narrow strait, lamenting; for on one side was Scylla, and on the other divine Charybdis terribly sucked down the salt water of the sea. When she vomited it forth, like a cauldron over a great fire, she would seethe and swirl in turmoil; and the spray on high would fall upon the peaks of both the cliffs. But when she sucked down the salt water of the sea, the whole inside of her was revealed in turmoil, and the rock around roared terribly, and below, the earth was laid bare, dark with sand; and pale fear seized my men. We looked toward her, fearing our destruction; and in that moment Scylla snatched from my hollow ship six of my comrades, who were the best in strength of hand and might. Glancing toward the swift ship and at my comrades, I saw their feet and hands already high above me, being lifted aloft; and they were calling out to me, shouting my name, for that last time, in the anguish of their hearts. And as a fisherman on a jutting rock with a very long rod, casting his bait as a lure for the smaller fish, sends the horn of a field-dwelling ox down into the sea, and then, seizing a writhing fish, flings it ashore, so were they lifted, writhing, up toward the rocks. And there at her entrance she devoured them as they shrieked, stretching their hands out to me in their dreadful struggle. That was the most pitiful sight my eyes have ever beheld of all the things I suffered while searching out the pathways of the sea.

But when we had escaped the rocks, and the dreadful Charybdis and Scylla, we came at once to the flawless island of the god; and there were the fair, wide-browed kine, and the many sturdy sheep of Helios Hyperion. Then, while I was still upon the sea in my black ship, I heard the lowing of the cattle as they were being stalled and the bleating of the sheep; and into my heart there fell the words of the blind prophet, Teiresias of Thebes, and of Circe of Aeaea, who had very strictly charged me to shun the island of Helios, who brings delight to mortals. Then, with a heavy heart, I spoke among my comrades:

"Listen to my words, my comrades, though you suffer grievously, so I may tell you the prophecies of Teiresias and of Circe of Aeaea, who very strictly charged me to shun the island of Helios, who brings delight to mortals; for there, she said, our most dreadful evil was to be. No, drive the black ship past this island."

So I spoke, and their very hearts were broken within them. And at once Eurylochus answered me with a hateful speech:

"You are a hard man, Odysseus; your strength is beyond measure, and your limbs never tire. Truly all your parts must be forged of iron, you who will not allow your comrades, worn out with toil and sleep, to set foot on land, where once again, on this sea-girt island, we might prepare a savory supper. Instead you bid us wander blindly on through the swift night, driven from the island and onto the misty sea. It is from the nights that harsh winds arise, the ruin of ships. How could anyone escape utter destruction, if a squall of wind should suddenly come, either of the South Wind or the ill-blowing West, which most of all shatter a ship, against the will of the lord gods? No, let us now obey the black night and prepare our supper, remaining by the swift ship; and at dawn we shall embark and put out on the broad sea."

So spoke Eurylochus, and the other comrades approved. And then I knew that a divinity was indeed devising evil, and speaking to him, I uttered these winged words:

"Eurylochus, you all conspire against me, being but one man. But come now, swear me a binding oath, all of you: if we should find a herd of cattle or a great flock of sheep, that no one, in his wicked recklessness, will kill a single cow or sheep; but instead, eat in peace the food that immortal Circe gave us."

So I spoke, and they at once swore the oath as I commanded. And when they had sworn and completed the oath, we moored our well-built ship in a hollow harbor, near a spring of sweet water, and my comrades disembarked from the ship, and then skillfully prepared their supper. But when they had put aside their desire for food and drink, they fell to remembering their dear comrades and wept for them, those whom Scylla had eaten, snatched from the hollow ship; and as they wept, sweet sleep came over them. And when it was the third watch of the night, and the stars had passed their zenith, Zeus the cloud-gatherer roused a raging wind against us, with a wondrous tempest, and covered over with clouds the earth and sea alike; and night rushed down from the sky.

And when early-born, rosy-fingered Dawn appeared, we moored our ship, drawing her into a hollow cave, where there were fair dancing-grounds and seats for the Nymphs; and then I called an assembly and spoke to them all:

"My friends, in our swift ship there is food and drink; let us keep our hands from these kine, lest we suffer for it. For these are the kine and sturdy sheep of a dread god, Helios, who sees all things and hears all things."

So I spoke, and their proud hearts were persuaded. But for a whole month the South Wind blew without ceasing, and no other wind arose at all, save only the East and the South. As long as my men had bread and red wine, so long did they keep their hands from the kine, for they longed to live. But when all the provisions in the ship were exhausted, and they were forced to roam about in search of prey, fish and birds, whatever came to their hands, with bent hooks, for hunger tormented their bellies; then I went up the island to pray to the gods, in hope that one of them might show me a way to return. And when, walking through the island, I had gone far from my comrades, I washed my hands in a place that was sheltered from the wind, and prayed to all the gods who hold Olympus; but they poured a sweet sleep down upon my eyelids. And Eurylochus began to give my comrades evil counsel:

"Listen to my words, my comrades, though you suffer grievously. All forms of death are hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger and meet one's doom is the most pitiful. So come, let us drive off the best of the kine of Helios and sacrifice them to the immortals who hold the broad heavens. And if we ever reach Ithaca, our native land, we will at once build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion, and in it we will place many fine treasures. But if, in his anger over his straight-horned kine, he should wish to destroy our ship, and the other gods consent, I would rather gasp my life away once in the waves than be slowly wasted away on a desolate island."

So spoke Eurylochus, and the other comrades approved. At once they drove off the best of the kine of Helios from nearby—for not far from the dark-prowed ship the fair, crook-horned, wide-browed kine were grazing— and standing around them, they prayed to the gods, plucking tender leaves from a tall oak, for they had no white barley on their well-benched ship. And when they had prayed and had slaughtered and flayed the kine, they cut out the thigh-bones and covered them in a layer of fat, making a double fold, and laid raw slices upon them. And they had no wine to pour over the burning sacrifice, so they made libations with water and roasted all the entrails. But when the thigh-bones were burned and they had tasted the vitals, they sliced up the rest and spitted it on skewers.

And then the sweet sleep fled from my eyelids, and I went on my way to the swift ship and the shore of the sea. But when I was near the curved ship on my way, the sweet aroma of roasting fat drifted around me, and I groaned and cried out to the immortal gods:

"Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever, truly it was to my ruin that you lulled me into a cruel sleep, while my comrades, remaining behind, have plotted a monstrous deed."

And a swift messenger came to Helios Hyperion, long-robed Lampetie, to say that we had slain his kine. And at once, enraged in his heart, he spoke among the immortals:

"Father Zeus, and you other blessed gods who live forever,
- take vengeance now on the comrades of Odysseus, son of Laertes, who have insolently slain my kine, in which I used to rejoice as I went up into the starry heavens, and again when I turned back toward the earth from the heavens. And if they do not pay a fitting penalty for my kine, I will go down to the house of Hades and shine among the dead."

And Zeus the cloud-gatherer spoke to him in reply: "Helios, for your part, continue to shine among the immortals and upon the grain-giving earth for mortal men; as for them, I shall soon strike their swift ship with a white-hot thunderbolt and shatter it to pieces in the midst of the wine-dark sea."

These things I heard from Calypso of the lovely tresses; and she said that she herself had heard them from Hermes the messenger.

But when I had come down to the ship and to the sea, I rebuked them one after another, standing by each man; but we could find no remedy, for the kine were already dead. And then the gods at once began to show portents to my men: the hides began to creep, and the meats on the spits began to bellow, both the roasted and the raw; and there was a sound as of cattle lowing.

For six days then my trusty comrades feasted, having driven off the best of the kine of Helios. But when Zeus, son of Cronos, brought on the seventh day, then the wind ceased its raging tempest, and we at once embarked and put out on the broad sea, having set up the mast and hoisted the white sails.

But when we had left the island and no other land appeared, but only sky and sea, then the son of Cronos set a dark blue cloud above our hollow ship, and the sea grew dark beneath it. The ship did not run on for very long; for quickly came the shrieking West Wind, blowing with a great tempest. The gale of the wind snapped both the forestays of the mast, and the mast fell backward, and all its rigging was flung into the bilge; and at the stern of the ship the mast struck the head of the helmsman and crushed the bones of his skull all at once; and like a diver he fell from the deck, and his proud spirit left his bones. And Zeus thundered and at the same time hurled a bolt upon the ship, and she, struck by the thunderbolt of Zeus, shuddered from stem to stern, and was filled with the smoke of sulfur; and my comrades fell from the ship. Like sea-crows they were borne on the waves around the black ship, and the god snatched away their day of homecoming.

But I kept pacing through the ship, until the surge tore the sides away from the keel; and the wave carried it along, stripped bare, and snapped the mast from it at the keel; but upon the mast the backstay had been thrown, made of oxhide; with this I bound them both together, the keel and the mast, and sitting on these, I was borne on by the deadly winds.

Then, to be sure, the West Wind ceased its raging tempest, but the South Wind came swiftly, bringing sorrow to my heart, that I should have to measure my way back to the baleful Charybdis. All night long I was borne, and at the rising of the sun I came to the cliff of Scylla and to the dreaded Charybdis. She was just then sucking down the salt water of the sea; but I, flinging myself high up toward the tall wild fig-tree, clung fast to it like a bat; but I had no way to get a firm footing or to climb upon it; for its roots were far below, and its branches were out of reach, long and great, and they overshadowed Charybdis. I clung on steadfastly, until she should vomit back the mast and keel again; and to my longing they came, though late; at the hour when a man rises from the assembly for his supper, after judging the many quarrels of young men who seek his counsel, at that hour the timbers appeared from out of Charybdis. I let go my hands and feet to fall from above, and I came down with a crash in the middle of the water, beyond the long timbers, and sitting on them, I rowed with my hands. But the father of gods and men did not allow Scylla to see me again; for I would not have escaped utter destruction.

From there I was borne for nine days, and on the tenth night the gods brought me to the island of Ogygia, where Calypso dwells, she of the lovely tresses, a dread goddess with a human voice, who loved me and cared for me. But why should I tell you this tale? For it was only yesterday I told it in this hall to you and to your noble wife; and it is hateful to me to tell again a story that has already been plainly told."

Aller au chapitre suivant >