The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel

  All Crete jounced over them and swayed with upright teats,

  till Helen suddenly shuddered and grew pale as wax,

  for as she watched the famous island gleam on the waves

  there rose high in her memory ancient dragon tales

  that her old nurse had crooned to make her fall asleep: 340

  “Far, in the far strands of Crete—may she be cursed!—

  a hornéd dragon roars and feeds on mortal men.

  Crete like a lamia sits on the all-sucking waves,

  laughs lightly, braids her hair, then sinks all passing ships.

  Ah, may your foam-feet, Helen, never tread on Crete.” 345

  Now she was rushing headlong—who could stay his fate?—

  in the man-eating mouth of the bull-snouted god.

  But you, O Captain Clam, pulled on your oars like wings,

  nor were you seized with fear, nor with old midwives’ tales,

  and if fate doomed your salt-caked flesh to be devoured 350

  by this world-famous island where you plunge full sail,

  you neither broke in sweat, nor gave a salt-tar’s damn!

  You pulled the toughest oar, your lips gave you no rest,

  until you decked the sea’s Dame with a thousand gems:

  “The sea is a huge loom where Crete sits down and weaves; 355

  lucky those eyes who’ve seen her shuttling on the waves.

  If you’re sick, you sprout wings, if sluggish, you grow wild,

  and if cares crush you, your dazed mind glows like the moon,

  and you forget black pain and raise your arms on high

  and bless your happy parents who once gave you birth.” 360

  Odysseus opened his brains wide, his eyes and ears,

  till odors, Crete, and castles plunged in his deep wells.

  A sentry from the headland yelled: “A ship, ahoy!”

  A sentry from the seashore yelled: “It’s made the harbor!”

  The archer leapt on shore and cried: “Well met, O longed-for Crete!” 365

  Upon the summit of great joy Dread holds his throne,

  and comrades, masts and oars, women, and high waves,

  unshaven lips and laughing eyes and gaudy wings

  pass by as though they swam through harsh nightmarish dreams,

  A stout coastguard approached to ask about their tribe, 370

  and his mouth gurgled in the sun like a tipped jug;

  he held a wax plaque and bronze style to etch their words,

  but the bold archer laughed and stroked his curly beard:

  “Let us alone to sleep a while, and when our souls

  distill once more, well tell you from what land we come; 375

  now set us down as tattered sails and seals of the sea.”

  He spoke, and all slid through a shadowy cool arcade,

  fell on the tiles as dead, while from the fragrant earth

  sleep rose like moss and covered up their curly brows.

  Night fell, and the green bellies of the glowworms shone, 380

  the high stars leapt, the breasts of Helen swayed and burned

  within the lustrous night like two matched crystal pears,

  and sleep crouched like a fisherman on the crew’s eyes,

  patched up their tattered nets, stitched all their fishing hooks,

  and calked again the battered planking of their bodies. 385

  But that beast, Hunger, conquered sleep at drop of noon,

  and first to raise his eyes and cluck his tongue was glutton:

  “I’m starved! O for a bite of meat, a hunk of bread!”

  And then the whistling voice of cricket-face piped up:

  “Glutton, rise up and shine with health! You’ll eat, don’t fear! 390

  Friends, are my eyes flickering, or do I see, even now,

  the crown of Crete shine on the locks of our brave smith?

  Rise up, great King, command us women, food, and wine!”

  Then Granite stretched his haughty body above the ground:

  “By God, my soul has longed to stroll on this good earth 395

  more than it longed for women, bread, or finest wine!”

  Then Rocky lightly leapt and stood by his friend’s side,

  but the archer’s mind had gone to work before the dawn:

  “It’s only just to care for our bruised bodies first.

  Let’s go! The hunter Mind has flushed a hare in harbor.” 400

  When the three vanished in the harbor’s jostling crowd,

  fair Helen from her bosom’s secret cleft brought up

  the prophesying globe to see her soul’s new road.

  She bent above the god’s eye, but saw nothing more

  than all her hairy comrades round her like adornments; 405

  with their crude hanging beards they seemed sea-battered seals

  cast by the raging sea on some far-distant strand,

  and in the seals’ nest she discerned a pure-white swan.

  Stooped low in silence thus, the sun-born sniffed her fate

  and strove in foggy inner woods to see her way. 410

  But the clear crystal suddenly dimmed, its riches vanished,

  until a peaked cap rose and covered all its globe,

  and Helen, trembling, thrust the eye back in her breast.

  Their leader’s voice was heard then, full of cheer and joy:

  “Come, dear blood brothers, stuff your bodies, eat and drink!” 415

  He spoke, then broke a basket open and filled their hands.

  All fell to eating headlong, and their dreadful jaws

  ground round like millstones till the archway shook and swayed:

  when they grabbed bread, their fists were filled with plunging swords,

  when they drank wine, it thunderously plunged at once 420

  like armored mail and wrapped them round with brazen shields;

  wine turned to crimson blood, meat turned to sturdy flesh,

  and when they’d eaten, the port stopped swaying, earth grew firm.

  The piper then, wine-dreg of God, laughed loud and long:

  “O God,” he roared, “patron of friends, bread, wine, and meat, 425

  how you’ve declined and poked yourself in our wide guts!”

  The heaven-baiter laughed and thrust his hardened hands

  to cool them in the wine-flasks and the luscious fruit,

  “Brothers, I’ve roamed the world, my eyes, have joyed in much,

  yet never have I seen bazaars where gods are sold; 430

  but it was foreordained that I should gape at gods

  spitted like crabs on reeds and sold in clustered groups.

  Here mortals may choose gods for every single need:

  gods of the sea, gods of the earth, gods of good health,

  one to cure goiters, belly-aches, or falling-sickness, 435

  another to cure jaundice, sore throat, fever, dropsy.

  Here gods are sold in rows, nostrums of every kind.

  I dragged my god there by his feet, a votive beast:

  ‘Merchants, your health! I bring this miracle-working god,

  defender of fine friendship with his bolts and lightnings.’ 440

  An old man turned and whistled through his hairless lips:

  ‘How nice of him to come, too. Drag him out, let’s see him.’

  He rubbed him with a touchstone, weighed him well on scales:

  ‘Great is his grace, by God! He’s true, pure, solid gold!’

  He yelled, and from great joy his ears broke in a sweat; 445

  then we began to bargain, and closed the deal with skill.

  Now, lads, your brains shall grow huge, for you’ve eaten God,

  but still be patient, for the wonders have not ceased.”

  Then sly Odysseus turned and winked his eye at Granite,

  and he with chuckles overturned a monstrous tub 450

  from which at once poured sheepskins, sandals, vests and belts


  which the great captain portioned out in equal shares:

  “God has arranged for everything, for he’s all-knowing;

  let’s dress like native Cretans; I’d be filled with shame

  to face great King Idomeneus clad in rags; 455

  and fellows, look, I’ve bought the starry sky for Helen.”

  He then unfolded in the light a woman’s robe

  that shone with rich adornments and with sparkling gems,

  and she, who was love’s face, rejoiced and spread her arms:

  “O skilled in many crafts, you rule the heart of woman 460

  as if it, too, were but a heavy storm-tossed sea,

  for headcoins, feathers, silver chains and frills delight

  that godly, gaudy bird caged in a woman’s skull

  She spoke, then gathering her brocaded armor, Vanished.

  The men soon quickly armed themselves in their brave robes: 465

  “Ahoy, we too shall walk tight-assed and scissor-stepped!”

  they shouted gaily, and their mocking laughter rang.”

  But when they saw the lean-branched lady turn a corner,

  they cupped their hands against their eyes to bear the dazzle:

  her firm voluptuous breasts snone naked in the dark, 470

  high sandy rose-red hills in the world’s desolation,

  and her dress flowered like the wealthy frills of spring.

  Their leader’s eyes flashed fire, his gray hair stood on end:

  “Fellows, I once saw fierce War firmly plant his feet

  on two high peaks, then stoop and drink the rolling river, 475

  and the deep water boiled with rage and turned to blood,

  yet I feared not, as now I fear the sight of Helen!”

  And Granite suddenly shuddered and recalled his brother:

  “I’ve often thought, O Captain, to my heart’s great shame,

  that you and I, body and soul, like black lambs follow 480

  the woman warrior with her nude milk-laden breasts.”

  Then the great-masted mind fell silent and refused

  to show his most precipitous hope, his deepest grief,

  but gathered his old friends and told them what to do:

  “Scatter throughout this famous port, poke everywhere 485

  and open your eyes wide, your nostrils, ears, your hearts,

  because this earth, though beautiful, does not last long,

  and then let’s meet for council when the twilight falls.”

  He spoke, and each one scattered where his own heart wished.

  Hardihood went alone and poked about the workshops. 490

  Broad-shouldered Kentaur grabbed the piper by the nape

  and climbed the crooked alleys of the harbor town

  in search of good red wine and good full-bodied maids.

  The mountain pair strolled arm in arm about the wharfs

  where heavily-scented harbor girls winked playfully 495

  with hanging hair and tinkling gods between their breasts;

  but they, in the sweet snare of friendship soon forgot

  to care for food and drink or even a girl’s kiss.

  And knotty Captain Clam, like a ship’s dog let loose,

  leapt every anchored prow to nose out his old friends; 500

  his salt seafaring mind rejoiced to stroke the ships

  with their swift-voyaged demons painted on the prows,

  but all at once a shrill voice seized and cast him ashore:

  “Aye, Captain Clam, your eyes are welcome as snow in heat!”

  He turned and saw an old friend, a thin-haired shipmaster 505

  with narrow skull and white hair” flowing down his back,

  and the old friends fell moaning in each other’s arms.

  They talked for hours of the sea, that wild horse-maid,

  and like two oysters closed and opened their old entrails

  while all the raging sea broke over them and dragged them down. 510

  Meanwhile Odysseus and arch-eyebrowed Helen gaped

  at the great wealth unstacked and heaped upon the piers

  from the long-voyaged, many-oared, far foreign ships.

  Crete in the harbor tower sat on her high throne

  and from the far ends of the earth her four wind-lovers 515

  brought her sea-caravans brimmed with many precious gifts.

  First always came the harsh North Wind with his blond beard

  and at the briny wheat-brown feet of his beloved

  he spread the hides of wild beasts, wools, and fertile slaves,

  and on her hot stones cast his honey-colored amber. 520

  Then blowing from the shady side, the West Wind came

  with his upturned mustache, his anklets of fine bronze,

  and brought her gifts of tin and silver huge as loaves.

  Then from the sunny side there came the withered, sly,

  and winking lover of the sweet-breasted ancient East 525

  with his bright silver rings and painted pouting lips,

  and in her open hands and garnished lap heaped high

  most precious spices, golden birds, and magic balms.

  And Lord South Wind, that famous lover with moist locks,

  brought her close-woven colored baskets, ivory gifts, 530

  miracle-working letters, demons, monkeys, charms,

  and Crete sat on her lofty throne, with naked breasts,

  and held the scales above her seas and weighed each kiss.

  Helen, unspeaking, felt the four winds blow about her

  with hot erotic breath, whistling between her thighs, 535

  and wished she were that robust isle in the sea’s midst

  hard-beaten by her lovers, the four Captain Winds.

  But woman’s flesh is an unable, transient thing,

  and then lip-closing Charon grabs it by both braids

  before it can rejoice an hour in man’s embrace. 540

  The multicolored, raucous, crowded harbor swayed,

  and in the woman’s towering, full, and famished throat

  the suffocating wild dove secretly complained.

  Then a slim peddler, smelling of rank musk and goat,

  slid near the arch-eyed lady, and slowly in the sun 545

  unwrapped in waves a rich-embroidered magic robe.

  Black, white, and crimson horses dashed about its field,

  and kings astride them bent their bows with golden darts

  and shot slim green-blue beasts amid wild cypress groves,

  and all around its hem rolled cool cascading waves. 550

  Helen was dazzled like a quail, and shut her eyes,

  but the old corsair bowed and said with lilting voice:

  “I’ve traveled round the tree of earth, and yet I swear

  I’ve never seen such beauty in a mortal maid.

  Oho, who lies beside you longs for sleep in vain!” 555

  He spoke with lowered head, but glanced with snaky eyes

  and measured well the stanch man by the rose-drenched maid.

  Odysseus laughed and seized the peddler’s hairy arms:

  “By God, if she were all alone on distant shores

  we’d fling her on our backs and make for our swift ship!” 560

  The peddler’s thick lips cackled and his small eyes flashed:

  “By God, if only all you say were true, my friend!

  But God has sent her near me in a jostling port

  and placed a true man by her side, a rampant lion.

  You must have come as pilgrims for this holy feast day.” 565

  His tongue began to wag around his lilting mouth

  about the island’s withered souls, its barren maids,

  its animals diseased and sterile, its drowned fleet.

  “And all this, sire, because old age has crushed our king;

  his strength has drained away, his rotted loins have shrunk, 570

  and Crete, his flesh
and blood, grows old as he grows old.

  Today he climbs to God to snatch at youth renewed,

  that strength might once more crackle in his empty bones

  and he descend at dawn with strong loins and new laws.

  But if our Bull-God scorns to fill that putrid flesh, 575

  our foul-lunged king will vanish in the cave and never

  from out that labyrinthine darkness find the light.

  The simple-hearted people fall on palace tiles

  and all night long with holy water and love-making

  try to assist our shrunk king to regain his strength.” 580

  The shoulders then of sun-born Helen began to shake

  until the old oriental codger stooped and smiled:

  “Don’t let your lips, those red carnations, tremble, lady;

  the Bull-God gulped our kings only in ancient times,

  for now they’ve learned to be on good terms with the gods 585

  and climb unruffled toward them, bearing golden towers,

  for learn, the gods are merchants now and strike hard bargains.”

  He spoke, then from his bosom dragged an ivory god

  with seven towering heads piled on each other, worn

  by myriads of caressing hands and pilgrim lips. 590

  Odysseus grabbed at the ivory wonder eagerly;

  the seven heads all swayed, and seven-colored flames

  rose in his mind as with his finger tips he stroked

  and gently licked with slow caresses each strange head.

  Time shut its wings for a brief moment and stood still 595

  so that the lone mind could have ample time to climb

  with skillful fingers all the rungs of mortal virtues.

  Below, the most coarse head, a brutal base of flesh,

  swelled like a bloated beast bristling with large boar-tusks,

  and it was fortified with veins as thick as horns. 600

  Above it, like a warrior’s crest, the second head

  clenched its sharp teeth and frowned with hesitating brows

  like one who scans his danger, quakes before death’s door,

  but in his haughty pride still feels ashamed to flee.

  The third head gleamed like honey with voluptuous eyes, 605

  its pale cheeks hallowed by the flesh’s candied kisses,

  and a dark lovebite scarred its he-goat lips with blood.

  The fourth head lightly rose, its mouth a whetted blade,

  its neck grew slender and its brow rose tall as though

  its roots had turned to flower, its meat to purest mind. 610

  The fifth head’s towering brow was crushed with bitter grief,