They grabbed armfuls of wheat, gathered them up in shocks
and stacked them in straight rows on blazing threshing floors
where with their pitchforks in the light-blown breeze, they fanned 690
and winnowed the full-seeded and abundant fruit,
“Good is the earth and good her womb; it’s a great joy
to live like man and wife together, to eat, make love,
and work hard side by side like mates in scorching sun.
The earth’s our faithful and hard-working wife, unlike 695
the brainless, giggling sea, and gives our children suck.”
Thus Kentaur spoke to his own heart and called to mind
how he had lived with earth in joy as a young plowman
far off amid his father’s fields on eastern shores,
and now, by God, see where the wheel of exile flung him! 700
Kentaur whipped up his steeds while his enchanted mind
flew like a hungry beetle to reap memory’s harvest:
deep gardens and well-dowried girls in their full bloom
who would come down to watermills, set up their poles
with wool for washing, and fluff their clothes till the dale rang. 705
Broad-buttocked Kentaur marveled how the years had fled,
how, wounded by the maidens’ charms, he’d hailed them blithely:
“Don’t tire yourselves, my dears, I don’t want any clothes,
give me but fertile thighs for dowry, night-long kisses;
ah! even your feathery blouse will do, and that’s too much!” 710
A maiden then, sweet God, threw him a bitten apple: 711
“Go on, splayfoot! Stop twirling your mustache! Don’t moan!
Our curved breasts are encircled by a thousand guards!”
Alas, where was she now? A rotted apple, lost!
“Fellows, she had a small mole on her olive cheek, 715
and on her throat—it drove me wild—a small, small lovebite.”
Both neck and cheek rose vivid in the empty air
but suddenly his monstrous flesh, that sped far off,
flung itself from the dream, drew in its reins, and stopped.
A jostling troop of children, maids, and blond-haired braves, 720
cartload on cartload, some on horseback, some on foot,
poured through the valley’s narrow pass like hairy demons.
Odysseus suddenly stopped and bent his body in two;
thick droves of wild-faced women passed, big-bodied maids
whose wide loins could contain whole yards of noisy children, 725
and young men trotted by their side with iron swords
flashing in air, and raised thick clouds of swirling dust.
The grainfields shook with thunder, and the gleaning stopped.
“New salty blood comes pouring into withered veins,
our homes have fallen in ruin, our towns have lost their men, 730
for see, these blond-haired roundheads burst from the far North!”
Deep in his mind the dexterous man confessed the truth:
“Their undistilled and turgid blood still seethes like must,
firm lands and islands boil and burst, the world’s renewed;
though my left foot is rooted deep in earth, the right 735
shakes high beyond the chasm’s edge and longs to dance.”
He watched the strangers pass until his fingers itched
to grab their bodies, plunge in their blond hair and feel
their warmth and fierce resistance, to rejoice in wars.
But when the mob had passed and only horseflesh stench 740
still choked the valley, then the devious man growled out,
“Blessed be that hour that gave me birth between two eras!
Hey, glutton, gird your barrel-bellies round with iron,
I see deep cliffs before us and dark streams behind;
well leap in darkness soon, and who knows where we’ll land?” 745
But glutton grabbed in haste his twisting reins, and yelled:
“Don’t worry, I know well that all who steel their hearts
with you in friendship must soon learn to shuttle back
and forth from thirst to hunger swiftly, life and death.”
The sun now stood at zenith and deep shadows fell 750
in a black heap and huddled round the roots of trees.
“Make for that thick-leaved plane tree by the riverbank,
unyoke the horses there, it’s time we all four ate.”
The master spoke, then both jumped down, unyoked the horses,
let them run loose in the cut stubble and lay down 755
under the plane tree’s heavy shade to eat their bread.
They spoke no word but bent to earth and ate with greed,
though in his mind the devious man chewed up like cud
blond hair and iron, sturdy swords and gaudy tents;
he bent his long bow taut and fixed the arrow’s nock 760
firmly against the gut, though undecided yet
whom to mark out for friend or foe, and where to shoot.
The heavy-hearted man then frowned, leapt to his feet,
and glutton also leapt, food in his mouth, and thought:
“By God, better to live in the teeth of a wild beast 765
than be storm-tossed against this man’s dark ebb and flow.
I want to flee, but can’t; I want to stay, but quake.”
He yoked and whipped the horses till they leapt with fear
and with their lean hooves swiftly wound the world as on a reel.
Soon the five-fingered mountain rose and blocked the air; 770
its five peaks stood up proudly in the sun and vanished
like five thoughts in an archon’s subtle, scornful head.
“Just such a mountain should have stood beside my cradle
and hung my life long like a sword above my head!
I know it now: I’ve never in my life loved man 775
nor deigned to let him build his home on my rough crags,
nor browse nor breed his cattle on my mountain slopes;
but I, too, like Five-Fingers here, cliffs clean of men,
thrust to the sky my naked form and fade in sun!”
Odysseus clasped the mountain close and brooded long; 780
the river rolled in sluggish twists and turns through reeds;
rush-slender maidens, bearing on thick shoulder-pads
their cooling pitchers, walked with grace to wishing-wells
and preened as though, even now, their wombs were filled with sons.
Kentaur in admiration thought: “This field produces 785
fine mares and finer women,” but he dared not speak,
for he was startled by the archer, coiled and writhing,
who like an angry viper hissed with bloated throat.
A roadway shrine of Aphrodite suddenly shone,
cut in a crimson rock thrust deep in myrtle shrubs, 790
round which the goddess’s erotic doves were sighing.
Amid the myrtle boughs the nude bronze body smiled
of the sweet yielding Lady and lured the passers-by;
in her cupped hands she held her fat and fertile dugs
that swelled and pained her, rigid with congested milk. 795
Lovers had hung small hearts of clay about her feet,
pair after pair, that she might grant surcease of passion.
“It’s time the castle came to view, let’s stop an hour
and in this water cleanse our bodies till they glow;
we must not pass that deathless threshold still unwashed.” 800
Odysseus spoke, and both plunged in the freshening stream.
Like a big-bellied buffalo his friend rejoiced
to feel the water flow along his hairy thighs,
and when he’d had enough and scrambled up the bank
he saw the archer sprawled like f
lame so that around him, 805
far round about him, all the ground was rimmed with fire.
Then the compliant goddess like a humble beggar
stooped down and spread her hands above his blazing head;
but the man’s mortal eyes were thrust deep in their sockets
and, filled with longing, sauntered through an inner grove. 810
In truth, he saw a garden opening in his heart
on a shore’s rim with almond trees in their first bloom,
but couldn’t remember where, on what large land or island.
He only could recall a slow, warm drizzle falling
that robed the flowers with a transparent veil until 815
the almond branches seemed to laugh and gently weep.
He’d risen on tiptoe longingly to break a small,
wet twig, for his heart shook with passion unrestrained,
and as the tree with all its flowers swayed, cool drops
rained down on his dark head, his lips, his chest, until 820
he blenched, and in a lightning flash remembered Helen!
Once, he recalled, she’d smiled at him behind her veil;
her husband’s ship had set its sails for their far land
and she had raised her crystal arms by the ship’s prow
to say farewell to shores in silence, right and left; 825
she hailed the still warm ashes of the toppled towers
and hailed the gallant lads who glowed far up the beach,
then turned and saw him with his peaked cap standing there,,
and slowly, deeply smiled until her white veils Bashed
and light poured through his mind as though sweet day had dawned. 830
Thus, in a joy complete, in a blind, dazzling silence,
he held between his wet thick lashes all her beauty.
Like travelers who shut weary eyes and lose themselves
in scent of jasmine flowers blooming far away,
Odysseus breathed in the atmosphere a phantom Helen. 835
Her features changed and winked in air, gleamed like a star, 836
for still the mind of man had not yet brought to proof
whether her flesh had truly blossomed in Troy’s walls
or whether friend and foe had fought for an empty shade. 839
But now with lucid head he dashed to see her, touch her, 840
and if she would not flee his hand like airy clouds
he’d lure her with seductive speech and dark caresses.
Just as the Eurotas ran to sea with dance and smiles
and she had watched by day and heard it all night long
until she sighed one day and rose to follow after, 845
so would his mind roll round her like alluring streams.
The secret purpose of his voyage burst upon him
and he laughed loud, then clapped his hands and called his friend:
“Hey, muddy beast, come close, let’s bandy words about!”
Kentaur rose steaming like a river ghost, approached, 850
and the archer slowly stroked his friend’s fat shoulder blades
for fear his words might hurt or wound that guileless heart:
“Brother, we’re now quite close to that world-famous castle
and soon your manly heart shall look on star-eyed Helen.
Your flesh hangs heavy and your words spring out unleashed 855
and fall to earth like birds that couple shamelessly;
hold back your wits and do not shame us, check your tongue,
open your eyes, gape on that marvel silently,
and say within you, ‘I never hoped for this good fortune.’ ”
The big-boned man then hung his face, choked back his wrath, 860
but uttered not one word, for what his friend had said was true.
When they had dried at length in the tame sun of evening,
Odysseus rose and prayed alone amid the myrtles
to that brash Lady with a sow’s long tier of dugs:
“Lady, I don’t fall at your feet, a swooning boy, 865
for my dull loins are cleansed, my needs are tamed, and now
I hold you like a mortal and well-bedded maid.
But I know well, nude form, that you still rule the world.
I beg you: come with me today, abet my purpose;
storm through my blood, dear Lady, that my ship may sail, 870
let loose the alluring thought that will abduct fair Helen.”
But you, O Lady of Myrtles, you had your mind elsewhere,
and with your small lips still unslaked you smiled with craft
and watched the body of the arch-eyed lady lying
on distant sheepskins, sauntering by tall dappled tents, 875
the archer lost in her deep mind where all men quarter.
He did not hear, however, the unfaithful goddess laugh,
and leapt with joy into his chariot, cleansed and pure.
Field after wheatfield passed, and a new fragrance poured
from tufted rose-bays by the banks and slopes of thyme; 880
old women seemed more sturdy, girls as lean as candles,
for the whole world seemed cleansed to glance of new-washed eyes.
The castle suddenly loomed in twilight’s azure dusk,
light fell like mist between the toothless battlements,
long, bearded ivy shadowed all its cracking towers 885
and owls hooted in its ruined foundations now.
Pressed tight about the castle walls, dark row on row,
huddled the humble huts of the day-laboring poor;
the smoke of evening had begun to rise from roofs
until Odysseus’ hairy nostrils quivered with greed 890
to sniff the holy odors of burnt, fragrant pine.
Rejoicing in the downy mist of peaceful night,
he suddenly heard hoarse cries and scuffling, peasants shout
and swarm in tumult round their grain on threshing floors
while women ran like panting dogs and prod the brawlers; 895
then all dashed toward the castle gates with flailing scythes.
An ancient plowman crossed their path. “Grandfather, stop!
What’s all the shouting?” Kentaur bawled above the clamor.
“The people roar and want to take their harvest home!”
Then the man-slayer ground his teeth in holy rage: 900
“Whip up the horses! We’ve reached the castle just in time!”
Bold Kentaur snapped his flickering whip until the streets
flashed fire as the mad and frothing horses raced far up
the steep ascent and stopped like lightning by the castle’s gate.
The wrathful man leapt down, thrust through the crowd in haste 905
and strode through the bronze threshold with its rampant lions.
The mob swarmed clamoring in the central courtyard, armed
with their sharp tools of work, hoes, pitchforks, sickles, scythes.
A long-haired peasant leapt on an ox-cart and yelled:
“We are the ones who plow and sow, who thresh and sieve! 910
It’s we who bear male children; the grain is ours by right!
Why should the fat-assed lords devour the workers’ honey?”
Their souls at once caught fire, their strong bodies blazed,
and all turned back their laden ox-carts toward the town;
but high above the workers’ heads on the sun-roof 915
the daughter of the swan appeared and stood with calm.
Their hearts throbbed as though each had seen his dark desire,
their wrath subsided for a moment, and their quelled minds
felt a light breeze that blew beyond revenge or need.
But in that breathless silence a voice roared out: “Hunger!” 920
and all at once the sweating mob burst out in rage
and surged up arm in arm to crash the quivering doors. br />
But the bronze gates groaned open, and lo, their king appeared,
short-bodied, stout, with rose-red cheeks, and fat with age.
He wore a short sword at his side, a lance in hand, 925
and on his helmet reared a tall and threatening plume.
As the sun’s final rays gleamed on his flashing form
it seemed his golden shield and spear burst in loud laughter.
He rolled his eyes in rage and glared on the cowed mob
until the cowards trembled, old men shook for fear 930
the stone beasts of the castle gate might leap alive.
Once long ago in ancient times, their grandfathers said,
the slaves had reared in strong revolt and rushed the castle,
but the stone lions roared, earth shook, the town was smashed.
The elders paled with memory, shook their staffs and pled 935
with the wild mob to calm down and disperse in silence,
but then harsh laughter broke—a worker, warped by hunger,
goaded the threshers with his coarse and mocking talk:
“Hey, comrades, make way there, his cuckold horns might hurt you!”
Then the whole palace shook with their lewd laughs, 940
and the king roared in rage till all fell suddenly silent:
“Slaves, all this earth’s been mine from father to father down!
When you crawled on all fours like bears and browsed on acorns,
either your foes’ swords pierced your bent and haltered necks
or my forefathers herded you from your dark caves, 945
showed you how to build fires, gave you swords, walled round
your goods and taught you to walk upright like true men!
Scum! Slaves! You owe your bodies and souls to us, your kings!
The sky and earth’s our ancient field held from our fathers.”
But an old codger, rag and bones, shot back and mocked: 950
“Now don’t get sore, my king; let’s share and share alike:
why don’t you take that high patrician sky for your share
and leave the wretched earth for us, your slavish workers?”
Then the mob leapt and seized the reins until the wheels,
heavy and muddy, groaned laboriously toward the town; 955
but the king ordered that the castle doors be barred,
that all the guards kneel down beside the battlements
to fling their murderous arrows at the mob’s thick hide.
Hearing the order, the strong harvesters went wild
and rushed to seize their silver-horned, cuckolded king; 960
murder had broken loose, the piglet drowned in blood,
had not Odysseus suddenly leapt on a high cart