and the old hags turn home and double-bar their doors
for fear the neighbors would find out and burst in laughing jeers.
The seashore dives blazed with loud laughs and rowdy noise, 295
and the white archer sat between two strong sea-wolves
whom he had met that day, and now they drank like friends.
Unmoving, silent, sad, his white beard stained with wine,
he slowly bid the earth and its deep joys farewell;
he watched the crews sip at their wine about the fires 300
with eggs of octopus, sea-urchins, and soft crabs;
he watched the skippers in the seaside taverns drink,
bare-chested, tousle-haired, till with wine’s dizzy spell
their trips came sailing in the taverns like tall legends.
His mind swelled as he listened in the fishers’ pubs 305
to skippers tell of lily-wonders that turned all
their native snowlands into crystals and snow-flowers.
One had thick reeking thongs that bound his oaken calves,
his slanting black eyes flashed with fire, and round his neck
he wore, for god and good-luck charm, a silver bear. 310
He talked, and shoals of shimmering fish came tumbling down,
mountains of seabirds rose, and their cracked eggshells tossed
beside the seashore foam like pure-white lotus blooms;
reindeer sped swiftly with their pearl-encrusted horns
that glittered in the nacreous mists of frozen fields; 315
seven curved necklaces of rainbows arched the skies,
snows glimmered with a thousand hues, and fingernails
and hands dripped with green, red, and azure precious stones.
As the world-wanderer listened, his mind burst in flame:
“I shall not drown in waves, nor shall I sink in earth 320
before these rainbows come to shroud my living form;
I’ve seen the peacock’s azure, green, and golden plumes,
and now I long to see earth’s snow-white gleaming tail!”
As the snow’s captain talked, in the hushed pub there strolled
a plump god dressed in bearhides, thickly smeared with grease, 325
and all threw fat lumps in the fire to warm him, fed
him seals and hung smoked fishes round his grimy neck
as he munched lard with greed and reeked like a white bear.
Then the world-wanderer laughed, for speech was a swift ship
with bursting holds on whose curved prow there sat an old, 330
old hag with clacking tongue who screeched like a plucked hen,
and on whose deck the lone man sat to roam the world.
The second, slender, red-skinned captain laughed and brimmed
the brazen bowls with wine, and his long painted nails
cast rosy sweet reflections on the glittering cups. 335
“By God, at times the whole world seems like a strange myth,
the mind like a bewitched and pallid prince who flings
the hundred gold gates of a haunted palace wide,
all doors adorned with different knockers, varied signs,
but the mind holds key-clusters, opens and walks through. 340
Now, Captain, you’ve flung wide the white snow-covered door
with all its dazzling flakes and bears, its wild reindeer,
and the mind entered, that charmed prince, and cried with joy,
for it had never dared divine such deathless lilies!
But I was born in flame-drenched lands, on sun-scorched shores, 345
unlocked a crimson door, walked through a thousand gardens
of flowering pomegranate trees where flames are roses,
where all our seashores gleam with crimson-painted prows.
Our god’s a cunning merchantman who roams all shores,
sells gods and goddesses with tiers of naked dugs, 350
sells magic charms, seductive paints, and healing herbs.
He’s very rich; strong scent drips from his curly beard;
his fingers, ears, and nostrils gleam with garish gold,
his fleets roam all the coasts, and we’re his cocky crew,
his sailors, boatmen, cabin boys and merchantmen, 355
and when we die, we spread our memories wide before him:
‘Master, here’s what we’ve sold, our profits and our loss;
cast your accounts and pay us what you owe us now.’
We don’t talk with entreaties or with prayers at all
but only with ‘I work, you pay,’ ‘Give me, I’ll give you!’ 360
Hades is a great shipyard where we build our boats,
splice ropes, calk gaping seams, patch up our tattered sails,
study the weather, then set sail for the living world.”
The red-skinned cunning captain was still talking when
the light sweet clink of copper rings rang from the door, 365
and when the sea-wolves turned they saw in smoking dark
two round plump Negro breasts that shone like brazen shields,
and a girl’s giggling laughter merged with their rude talk.
Then the snow-skipper swiftly leapt and seized the girl
who laughed and waddled close to cuddle in his hides, 370
and all forgot the gods, veered off to earth once more,
and momently the archer, too, reached in the dark,
slowly caressed in silent awe the warm black breasts
and then with tranquil calm withdrew his sated hand.
The dark-skinned merchant laughed and slyly winked his eye: 375
“Say the word, brother! If you like such harbor pets
I’ll fetch you from the shore a shoal of black-skinned flirts
who’ve vowed themselves to God for man’s sole consolation,”
But proud Odysseus did not speak, his mind soared far:
“Let this be my last fondling of a woman’s flesh! 380
How good to feel my palm now brim with a black breast
that covers all the white breasts I’ve enjoyed in life;
my hand’s prepared to grasp tight now earth’s earthen breast!”
He softly smiled and fondled the earth within his mind.
When the snow-captain took his fill of the girl’s hugs, 385
he placed about her ankle a bronze ring for thanks,
and the girl, tinkling, laughing, vanished down the mole.
He brimmed the bowls once more, then to the sly man turned:
“Each to this table fetched his country and his god,
till—by the sea!—it seems here in my waking dream 390
that wine and kisses both have taken a new flavor;
but we have waited still in vain for you, my friend,
to tell from whence your tall cap comes, what jig you dance.”
For a long time Odysseus watched his face in wine
flickering and running like a phantom down the beach 395
until it vanished gulp by gulp along his thirsty throat,
and when he spoke he felt he pulled his tongue with hooks:
“When on my land I glean my fields and store my grain,
when I have trod my purple grapes till the must brims
and my cheese makers come with their best season’s cheese, 400
I spread my feasting-boards in my four spacious courts
and then invite all mighty lords to come and dine.
I stand straight at my door as all my guests ride up,
dismount, bow at my feet, and greet me with esteem:
‘May you live long to enjoy your wealth, great tower-lord!’ 405
When I return from wars and my deep holds are heaped
with piles on piles of precious slaves, of bronze, of gold,
and all my people crowd the shores, loud cries explode:
‘A thousand welcomes, O great king with your vast plund
er!’
But when I sit cross-legged on earth in silent pall 410
and will no longer deign to touch food, flesh, or drink,
ah, when my flesh turns into soul and sizzling flame,
then all the mighty kings of earth, of sea, of air,
fall at my feet in fear and shrill with stuttering tongues:
‘O dread ascetic, pity us, look gently now!’ 415
Even the gods fall at my feet and cry in fear:
‘Don’t blow and scatter us like mist, almighty mind!’
But when I sit on earth, alone, and bend my head,
gaze at my hands and knees, hear both my temples creak,
crumble a lump of loam and smell the pungent soil, 420
then a small voice drifts up from my heart’s inner core:
‘You worm, that crawl on earth and often change your wings,
fly from my sight! I’ll raise my foot and crush you flat!’ ”
The seven-souled man stopped, his eyes in darkness shone
like an ascetic’s, a great king’s, a monstrous worm’s. 425
The two sea-captains watched their friend in great alarm
for he had swept them off to distant shores, wide courts
and haunted towers from which they found no sure return;
like the Dog Star that shimmers in the sky and turns
to turquoise, emerald, sapphire lights and ruby glows, 430
the lone man in the tavern’s dusk changed many hues.
The red-faced pirate opened his mouth wide to speak
but all at once his voice stuck in his throat, for all
the harbor buzzed, and torches flared in a great blaze.
Odysseus dashed with haste and looked out of the door, 435
but the dark pirate laughed and seized him by the waist:
“Don’t spoil our feast, my friend, don’t leave the savage wine;
the crack-brained crowd are worshiping their latest god.
Two years ago a Cretan ship smashed on these rocks,
and when the crew were landed safe, they kissed the earth 440
and raised an altar to that god they thought had saved them;
I happened to be docked beside them on the mole,
and as I like to probe in things—because I know
that learning is rich merchandise and dearly sold—
I asked the Cretans what great god they lugged abroad. 445
All swiftly flapped and waved their hands, all spoke at once
of an immense sea-demon that had stormed their coast
and smashed all wealthy Crete on one full-flowered night,
but now they lugged him in their hold and with his blessing
sailed to far-distant shores to found new city-states. 450
They’ve fetched their god here with his tall sea-cap, and all
the frantic Negroes listen to that cunning crew
and slay sheep to his grace till miracles come tumbling,
and now, today, his feast-day bursts on this old mole.
The soul’s a weathercock upon the roof of flesh, 455
struck by a thousand winds that turn her where they please.”
Then the sun-archer sank his lips into a smile,
sad and profound, and slowly to the pirate said:
“I think I’ve also seen him in my trips somewhere,
but I can’t now recall his face or even his name; 460
gods are like countless birds that pass above our heads
and the mind soon confuses their harsh cries and wings.”
The red-skinned skipper laughed and clapped the lone man’s back:
“I sell gods, too, with other wares, along this coast,
I barter hollow spirits for ivory and gold grain 465
and thus learn to distinguish different sorts of gods.
I well recall that Cretan demon of the sea
with all his visible attributes and secret name:
A sea-cap like an upright prow, a flaming beard,
a curved bow in his huge hands as he stoops to kneel; 470
some in their prayers call him ‘Savior,’ and some ‘Slayer,’
but in their secret hymns the priests cry out ‘Odysseus!’ ”
The archer frowned and bit his tongue, that from his lips
his savage mocking laughter might not burst in peals,
but yet he pitied wretched man, that craven dog 475
that wags its tail and fawns upon the hand that beats it.
Meanwhile the hymns grew louder, blazing brands approached,
and the procession like a brimming river flowed;
nude Negroes leapt and yowled as with curved swords they struck
their limbs and features savagely till the blood flowed; 480
nude children, wreathed with seaweed, led the liturgy,
and in their tender and small hands white seagulls shone.
The varied souls of the new god marched slowly past:
the first soul that passed by was Fire in bronze bowls
held up by seven boys and fed by seven girls 485
who flung it fragrant cinnamon and scented oils;
the second soul glowed in the hands of a fierce youth:
an upright Bow with silver bells, made of stag horn
where on each end the eyes of two bright rubies gleamed;
the third soul passed, held in the arms of full-grown men: 490
a Ship with golden prow and full three-masted wings
and a tall sea-cap perched upon the topmost mast;
the fourth soul in the hands of ancient archons passed
and gently flickered, fluttering in the warm night air:
the Feather of a pure white peacock, lean and light; 495
then the last soul of the dread all-knowing demon passed:
the unmoving Star, the Pole Star, stuck on a white skull.
Black priests in sea-blue robes and flaming headdress tossed
their incense-burners wide and sprinkled the tall ships
and the frenetic dancing crews with the sea’s brine 500
the while they slowly chanted strange hermetic hymns:
“O fearful flame, descend into our pitch-black hearts;
shoot, heavy bow of the sharp mind, shatter our brains;
ship, take us on your prow to far-off foreign strands;
O feather, deathless spirit, lift us high in air, 505
behold, the unmoving Pole Star points toward the dark cliff!”
As the redeemed great athlete watched the black-skinned mob,
the ardent mouths that moaned, the swollen beaten breasts,
a speechless rage and sorrow rose and choked his throat
although he smiled with sorrow and his white beard gleamed: 510
“I’ve been reduced to a god and walk the earth like myth!
O wretched soul of man, you can’t stand free on earth
or walk upright unless you walk with fear or hope!
When will companion souls like mine come down to earth?”
The double-willed man’s heart then cracked and broke in two, 515
but mended in a lightning-flash again, and the wound closed.
At dawn the sea found him asleep on her wet shore
and dashed him with her foam again, and again asked:
“Mother, what can this monster be that sleeps on stones?
I lick it soft and lap it low, flood it with foam, 520
and yet it’s not a dead swordfish or rotted hull
nor a white-bearded rock that blooms in a deep cave;
it must be an old sea-wolf shipwrecked on my shore.”
Odysseus opened his eyes wide and laughed to watch
how the sea rose like Helen with flirtatious eyes 525
and sunned herself nude on the stones, rolled on the sand
and dug deep hollows on the beach with her small hands.
She stretched out prone and watched with longing her old love
&nb
sp; who had remembered her and turned away from land,
that sowlike, dull housekeeper, and now brought her gifts 530
of his sea-urchin mind, his toughened bones, his flesh.
She watched him sweetly, murmured secret words amid
his thick and hairy thighs, his heels, his white-haired head,
and licked and lapped him with her soft and foaming lips
till the smooth pebbles rattled down her shingled shore. 535
Odysseus slowly slid his feet up to his knees
in the cool waves, then launched his body like a boat
and with a long swift leap plunged, prow and deck and stern,
and sank in the cool lap of his long-lost belovèd
till his world-wandering loins became refreshed and light. 540
He spread his hands out wide and floated on his back—
what a long time he’d yearned for just this salt embrace!
Now like a sponge he opened and closed his thirsty flesh
and drank salt water deep, but could not quench his thirst.
What are those withered roses that have lost their scent, 545
but when they’re dipped in water, swell and bloom once more?
Rose of the lone man’s body curled on the blue wave!
A breeze swept in from land and puffed, waves turned deep blue,
and in the spreading sea the border-guard’s white head
bobbed like a gourd-buoy gently in the morning light. 550
The sun rose, laughed, and fell upon his nut-brown body,
and the hours dripped like honey on his golden head.
At noon, at length, he waded out, rolled on the beach
till his beard filled with sand, his lips with salty flakes,
and with his briny hands he played with shells and pebbles. 555
“I’m thirsty! Ah, for a sip of water to cool my heart!”
As he sighed softly thus, two honey-colored calves
moved stumbling down the flowering mountain slopes, and made
straight for the seashore, mooing, dug their snouts in sand,
and when sweet water brimmed the shallow pits, they stretched 560
with yearning their long gleaming necks and slowly drank.
Odysseus leapt and with his nails dug in the sand
till slowly sweet, clear water bubbled round the rocks
and he, too, fell before the bullocks longingly
and lapped it swiftly with his tongue and filled his bones: 565
“How beautiful the world!” he cried, and his eyes brimmed;
“Ah, how can the delighted soul decide to leave it ever?”
He turned his head then toward the harbor town with hunger