The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel

“Dear friend, I’m not a ghost. Here, grasp a flesh of clay,

  place here your hand against my heart; it leaps for joy;

  may God be praised, earth is so small we meet once more.” 200

  He laughed so that his sleeping comrades blinked their eyes,

  and seeing Granite there, a sunshot stately column,

  they cried, fell on his neck and smothered him with kisses.

  Broad-buttocked glutton wiped his wet eyes secretly:

  “To think that we’ve been mourning you as lost, and now— 205

  good going!—you come with horses and a lord’s high plumes!

  Your freedom from the yoke, I see, has done you good.”

  The piper marveled at his towering body, his strong steed:

  “I dreamt of a huge dragon, and my poor brains shook:

  four-eared, six-footed, double-rumped, with musk-drenched tail!” 210

  Granite ignored the laughter and toward his master turned:

  “My heart was bitter when you left, I checked my pain,

  trudged down the river alone and felt my shoulders ache;

  by God, I swear they felt as though they’d burst with wings!

  Lone man, you cast a heavy shadow; what great joy 215

  to rise one morning and find the fearful lion gone!

  I walked the earth and felt my heels had sprouted wings;

  never in all my life had I felt such fierce joy,

  for freedom also strikes a man’s mind like strong wine.

  One morning by the bank I chanced on my blood-brother, 220

  Rocky, who also beat his fledgling wings with fear;

  we gave our hearts a hitch, then parted to find out

  if we, too, had some value in this world or were

  but the oars, masts, and trapping of your ship, Odysseus!

  Rocky chose to plunge south; I took a northern route 225

  nor knew toward where I went nor did my mind once ask;

  each morning I awoke and found a new creation

  as though a new soul every day were born within me.

  One evening as I roamed about the greening shores

  I saw a forest of slim masts crowd the near banks; 230

  strong bodies leapt the sands, and deep in muddy earth

  plunged lances tipped with iron, as long as two tall men.

  I liked their virile odor, longed for their wild breath,

  and seized an iron lance until my mind blazed too.”

  The cunning fisher marveled and then cast his bait: 235

  “O stout bellwether, you’ve opened paths that we shall tread!

  Now that we’ve chanced here too, and our bright stars have met,

  let’s cleanse the world with flame, though we’re but kindling wood!

  Rutting blond-bristling herds now swarm the desert sands

  but they lack that great shepherd, Mind, to lead them through; 240

  let’s join them, then, to give their dark desire eyes,

  for they pursue a goal much higher than they know.”

  But Granite frowned and clashed against his master’s will:

  “I don’t ask where I go, nor care for hidden goals.

  Arch-cunning man, don’t fire my fantasy, that whore 245

  that makes my blood boil till I pour it in relief

  and squander it without a care on any road!

  Now if you love me, leave me, that I may not swerve

  but follow my own footsteps and my native bent.”

  The archer joyed to see his friend raise his head high 250

  like a free man and spread his long wide wings for flight.

  He longed for the first thrust of freedom to tear through

  the bosoms of his friends one day like eagle-claws

  until they freed themselves from his hard yoke, and flew,

  but now he turned and seized his bold friend’s hastening wings: 255

  “Granite, be patient yet awhile, for we must still

  complete this task together with these barbarous hordes;

  give in, sit on the ground and tell me the straight truth:

  how many are they, what’s their strength and what’s their goal?”

  Granite smiled wryly, sat on the ground cross-legged and said: 260

  “Once more you seize and yoke me stealthily, you gadfly,

  but I’ll be patient, for it pleases me to please you;

  I’ll give you a crude account, dig out the fruit yourself.

  They’ve sacked the towns and put all young men to the sword,

  women they’ve dragged to slavery, cattle to slaughter-sheds, 265

  nor left one small green spray in the luxuriant fields.

  They’re all in rut, they’re weak with kisses, food, and drink,

  some slay each other and share spoils at the sword’s point,

  their brimming strength destroys them, and soon that day will come

  when their strong flesh will fatten the sterile sands in rows. 270

  What pity this fierce blaze must swirl and fade in smoke!”

  The devious archer listened to his friend in thought,

  and when he’d heard and weighed all well, he curbed his voice:

  “That’s true, but the world’s rotted and bears no other sprout;

  I think all hope on earth now, brother, has gathered around 275

  these barbarous loins and shaggy chests that swirl about us,

  and thus God often wills, that broncobuster of men.

  But they’ll be crushed unless our minds can give them shape,

  and we’ll be crushed, for now it seems that we’re all one.”

  He spoke, then rose and tightly squeezed gaunt Granite’s hands: 280

  “Forgive me if I still direct this holy task;

  it’s right that only one head rule in times of crisis.”

  Granite’s hot blood rose like a siphon in his heart:

  “When at your side I toil, I think that I’m still free,

  and each command of yours seems but my own deep will; 285

  yet what relief to tear the writ that binds me to you!”

  The great soul-leader laughed and then caressed his friend:

  “It’s good for your own sake to stay with me awhile;

  it does no good for a great soul to live and work

  where still far greater souls than he don’t live in constant strife.” 290

  And thus they spoke till daylight in the clanging din

  that rose by the banksides from the disordered crowd.

  Rala, new-washed, wearing the best of her poor robes,

  a thick and glittering copper ring about one ankle,

  sat in the middle of the public road, and waited. 295

  All living creatures woke, storks fished in the dank mud,

  small birds puffed up their breasts in light, their bellies breathed

  with joy, filled full of eggs and strength and warbling song,

  but flame-eyed Rala now recoiled with wrath, and thrust

  beneath her headband two long locks the wind had blown. 300

  She stooped, and on her headcloth the much-suffering man’s

  thick precious bloodstains glittered in the morning’s light;

  she’d sworn to plant it like a flag on the priests’ roof

  but wound it like a shroud now round her raven hair,

  and her heart melted from her desperate threnody. 305

  She leapt up suddenly, hearing the tramp of marching feet,

  perked up her ears, and heard but blood beat in her brow,

  for no soul walked the roads, and she sat down once more.

  Ah, could she block the middle of the road, dear God,

  when workers passed and staggered to the archons’ whips, 310

  and then scream out! What could she say? Turn back! Turn back!

  Thus Rala stooped and wrung her heart, that black crow’s nest,

  and as her fierce heart whipped the earth, waiting in fear,
r />   dust clouds rose suddenly in the sun, the banksides stirred—

  tumult and shouts, brass weapons, sharp and whinnying sounds. 315

  Rala dashed up, ecstatic, and opened her arms wide;

  her nerveless limbs began to shake, her knees gave way,

  she wished to utter a loud cry, but her throat choked,

  she wished to cry out “Brothers!” but her tongue grew numb

  and but one sound, a crow’s cry, “Kraa!” tore at her throat. 320

  The Egyptian army rolled up swiftly, horses neighed,

  snorted, and steamed about her slender naked limbs,

  and she reached out her hands, beckoned, and waved her arms.

  Amid the dustclouds her arms gleamed for a brief flash,

  her downy doe-eyes for a moment shook with fear 325

  in the thick mass of horses’ harness and bronze shields,

  and then her pallid body suddenly sank in the stampede.

  Seven black ravens swooped down in the smothering dusk

  and, pecking hungrily everywhere for scraps of meat,

  found but warm clots of blood, black strands of hair, and one 330

  bronze anklet on a shattered bone that gleamed on the hot sands.

  At that same hour, the archer watched the Egyptian troops

  flooding the fields, wave after wave of black-haired heads

  so numberless not even an apple could wedge between.

  Although he frowned, he felt no chill run down his spine, 335

  his hairy armpits were still cool, unsweated, dry,

  but all his comrades shuddered, and the piper’s pate,

  pallid with fear, poured with salt sweat in swift cascades:

  “Their troops are endless, comrades! I can’t even count them!

  If they should reach their hands to heaven, they’d blot the sun, 340

  if all should spit together, a river would roll and drown us!”

  He spoke, and his drenched clothes dripped with his salt sweat.

  His vulture-minded chief caressed the wind-struck head:

  “Comrades, the battle’s lost, there’s no salvation here,

  but let’s choose freely, before swords clash, what road we want: 345

  that one which leads toward death, or that which leads toward life;

  let our four heads, that brim with brains, rise up to judge.”

  But Granite, with an eagle’s stance, swiped at his master:

  “Since when has the great archer asked us our opinion

  when Death, the horseman, loomed up suddenly in our path? 350

  And though he asks us now, he scorns our wretched honor.”

  Then Orpheus gulped and raised a bold opposing head:

  “I may be sickly, but I’ve not feared Death, God curse him!

  Though I’m a seven-months’ child, that’s what my heart says too!

  I’ve always stood prepared to give my flesh to earth 355

  or let my slim flute-playing fingers rot and fall.

  Thus with no shame or hindrance, I’ll also have my say:

  Let’s fly! for he who spins great schemes is duty-bound

  to hold his life in rich esteem and cast it off

  only when his strong corpse will tilt the scales of fate; 360

  but here we’ll die in vain for scraps of empty honor.”

  Then double-buttocked Kentaur rose to speak his heart:

  “Fellows, I know we’ll perish here in a skunk-trap!

  You all know how I crave this slut, sweet-breasted life,

  yet what can I do, alas? I’d blush to turn tail now!” 365

  He glanced at his loved master and shyly dropped his eyes,

  but he had cocked his cap askew, a sign of death:

  “I too can’t quench my thirst for life, I love the light,

  but I’ve seen much on earth, spanned all and measured all,

  and found one thing to love and wear like a true charm: 370

  I’ve always found that men who hold great goals on earth

  squander their lives each daring moment heedlessly.

  I see no hope—that’s why my heart cries out: ‘Don’t fly!’

  Not that I feel ashamed or value stupid honor,

  but in extreme despair some beast within me laughs.” 375

  Then he fell silent, his eye lost in inner worlds,

  but yet he always kept some back door of escape:

  “Danger is good and suits me, but that opinion’s good

  that holds the scales of fate and weighs each danger well.

  See what my female brain has given birth to, friends: 380

  We shall not wait for the foe to fall on us in sun,

  but we ourselves shall pounce on their drowsy troops at night,

  for patience, brothers, does not suit the desperate heart.”

  He spoke, then swiftly strode toward the barbarian chiefs,

  and his companions marveled at his lurching gait 385

  as though earth were a ship’s deck tossed by surging storm.

  “Now is the time to plant good words, like crimson plumes,

  on the chiefs’ heads to give their minds courageous airs,”

  thus thought the sly man, striding through the motley tents.

  Those soon to die ate on the run, some bounced their sons, 390

  and some were giving last commands to their dear mates

  while Death stood over them and listened, though stone-deaf.

  The archer thrust claw-footed Death aside, then passed

  and at each chieftain cast sharp glances hung with hooks,

  hung with much precious bait, and every hook a fish. 395

  He seized the shoulders of a tribe-chief with forked beard,

  with pure-white peacock feather’s on his lion????s head:

  “I envy your white hair, grandsire, and your fine plumes.

  Bold gallant deeds adorn, I see, your towering form;

  but chief, your eyes have not yet seen a war like this, 400

  for on its holy head wings of fierce eagles shine.”

  The old man sighed and then confessed to his new friend:

  “Many foot soldiers and much neighing have filled the fields.”

  But then the archer burst out laughing and slyly winked:

  “Don’t go pretending you don’t know the secret, chief— 405

  a savage mob of slaves and workers await our sign

  to fall on the foe’s flank and rout it utterly.

  Their bull-faced gods will wallow then in their own blood!”

  Thus the arch-cunning man inflamed their desperate breasts.

  for he knew well that hearts have always fed on air. 410

  When he caught sight of a young blade, a virile bull,

  the crafty man stood still and called that all might hear:

  “One night on a wild mountain peak I saw a lion

  stand still, red-haired and gorged, watching the far-off fields,

  and I, crouched on low ground, with admiration gazed. 415

  Young man, I quake, for you recall that mighty lion.”

  The youth kept silent, but from his wild groin and thighs,

  from his firm loins, strength rose like waves into his heart

  and all his downy features flushed to hear such praise.

  The many-willed man marveled at man’s godly body 420

  that stands so proudly balanced on the cliff’s dark edge.

  He looked on sun-bronzed feet firm-rooted in the earth,

  the shaggy lion-thighs which in their savage shade

  covered the godly phallus with its deathless flame,

  the chest that in bronze bars guarded the tiger soul, 425

  and on the topmost peak, high on a towering neck,

  the head, that savage hearth, walled thickly on all sides,

  and in the head a world-destroying, world-creating spark.

  Night fell, low candlesticks burnt bright in the black air,

  and
the companions felt that when their chief had gone 430

  hunger rose without hindrance in their guts, and yowled.

  Granite leapt up and chose a fat beast from that herd

  which he had stolen the night before from the sandhills,

  slew it, gouged out its entrails, smeared it with thick clay,

  then lowered it, thick hide and all, in a fiery pit; 435

  and when they’d packed it close with burning ash and stones,

  the piper raised his proud wind-swollen head like wings:

  “An old, old song is smothering my poor mind like fog,

  so let this sad wretch sing it, friends, to find relief:

  Ah, Death once wed the Earth and built him a tall tower, 440

  he hewed young men for floors, old men for cornerstones,

  he hewed small children to make doors and window-frames . . .”

  But Kentaur stopped the piper’s mouth with his huge hand:

  “For God’s sake, bite your tongue, you’e made my blood turn sour,

  now don’t go conjuring wretched Death, may he be cursed! 445

  Brother, I shan’t mind when my bones disperse like stones,

  but I shall weep to leave behind so many winecups,

  so many lambs, so many girls who must sleep alone.”

  He spoke and sighed, then bent down with his shaggy arms,

  quickly unearthed the pit until the fragrance poured 450

  from the flushed lamb till all their famished bowels shook.

  At that same moment their lion-master’s shadow loomed:

  “I see you toil at good and tasty tasks, my friends.

  I’m mother-in-law’s delight, I come at lunchtime always!

  Let’s fall to eating so our teeth won’t spill on earth; 455

  they say there’s no more tasty food than the last lamb.”

  They raised the roast lamb, skinned it to its tender flesh

  and ate their fill; then Granite, wise in shepherd’s lore,

  scraped clean the lamb’s translucent shoulder-bone,

  raised it against the light and pondered its dark signs: 460

  “I see clear marks of evil on this beast’s bare bone:

  a crimson river, tombs that gape in long, long rows,

  and four deep yawning pits that lie in wait for meat.”

  Then feather-brains grew numb, groped at the gaping tombs,

  and when he felt grooved lines strung out in a long row 465

  his flute-enraptured, pallid fingers shook with fright.

  Bold Kentaur laughed and threw the bone into the flames:

  “Our fate lies not in a sheep’s bone but on our backs!”

  Then the deep-minded man pressed his lips tight and thought: