and when I look at you, man is my only hope.”
His words still rang in the choked air when a green flash, 85
glance of a wild beast, blazed through all the quaking cave,
and a bull’s bellow roared in the deep bowels of earth.
The air-brained people leapt in joy because they thought
their heavy god had heard the summons of frail man,
but the archer now no longer held brain-sucking hopes 90
and from the cave dashed like a hound to sniff the breathless air.
Tenuous clouds of dust rose and obscured the day,
no tree leaf moved, a scorching heat-haze choked all breath,
no insect rasped, no bird sang, not a beast was heard,
only from the new-matted roofs there swayed and hung 95
a deep-blue smoke, banner of man the weather vane.
Like a blind thing, the soul of the night-walker touched
the lake, the trees, the dogs, questioning with groping palms,
but all drew cowering back and gazed with silent fear.
Raging, Odysseus called on all dark powers to shout 100
whatever dreadful news they wanted him to know.
His heart seethed and his veins deployed like worms that twined
about his body as though to gulp it down alive,
then his mind suddenly howled, smelling the dreadful news.
He choked, flung his ferocious mask across his back 105
and with black bursting temples rushed toward the town walls,
raised up his flaming eyes to the high mountain peak
from whence thick puffs of smoke swirled as the earth shook,
then leant against the north town gate, and his breast raged:
“Frail body, O great soul, hold firm, yield not to shame!” 110
A great roar burst from the earth that heaved and tossed like waves
till towering dust clouds rose and wrapped the smothered sun.
As time ran out, the hopeless man dashed down the streets;
he saw two curly-headed children playing with joy,
he saw a boy and girl embracing in a dim nook 115
where the youth whispered sweet persuasive words of love
slowly, alas, as though he had a world of time.
Odysseus hard heart brimmed with tears, he seized them both:
“Hurry, enjoy your bodies, join your longing lips;
dear girl, cast off all shame; my children, time runs short!” 120
Two old men, quarreling further on, begged him to judge,
but with his bitter lips he broke in mocking laughs:
“Go straight to Hades, fools, don’t ask for justice here;
only one judge, the dread earthquake, shall part you now!”
A youthful mother stooped to suckle her dear son 125
and from full-slaked desire her glazed eyes rolled back,
her mouth hung open, gaping, and with prostrate hands
in the hot dusk she enjoyed her own son like a lover.
Odysseus leant against a wall to keep from falling,
then slowly and tenderly caressed the unfledged babe: 130
“Ah, what great pity—that soft head and those blue eyes,
that curved and milk-fed mouth, that body’s tender flesh
shall not have time to ripen and rejoice in sun.”
Thus did he wail, then softly spoke to the poor maid:
“Why aren’t you at our city’s celebration, mother?” 135
She laughed, and a small mole shone near her smiling lips,
she bounced her baby on her knees and kissed the mole
that gleamed near his own lips, then hung about his chest
a small bronze hand to guard him from the evil eye.
The lone man knit his knees, then pushed off from the wall, 140
lunged down the street, and in his heart’s tumultuous depths
broke into clashing strife with his devouring god:
“If you had any shame you’d honor mankind’s sweat!
This poor world issued from your hands dishonest, sick,
child of old parents, brainless, smutched, an outcast tramp, 145
until we came to perfect what you so badly shaped!
You shaped the boundless sea, but we the cleaving ship,
you shaped the raging river, and we the steadfast bridge,
you shaped the savage horse, and we the rein and bit.
You shaped coquetting and unbridled womankind, 150
that dark high-buttocked beast, and we shaped sacred love;
you let Death loose on earth—but fool, what can he do?—
we shape our sons, you murderer, and they sack his strength!
Smash us with flames and thunderbolts, we’ll find some cure,
and if your blade pierce to the bone, it’ll not go further!” 155
Thus did he mutter to himself as his heart raged,
and when he came to the dark cave he watched with grief
the dance and laughter, then glanced at his three old friends.
All three ate and caroused, wine-swept on the cliff’s edge,
and on Chief Rocky’s breast there still hung, like a charm, 160
a regal flute made of an eagle’s narrow shinbone
on which he played with such sweet rapture that sad song
the old bards taught him, that he glazed the minds of men;
but seeing the soul-grabber, they leapt up confused,
for a dark heavy cloud hung smoking over his head: 165
“Here comes the toll-collector right in our joy’s midst,”
broad-bottom groaned dejectedly, and his joy fled,
and when they stepped out of the cave, their master mocked:
“Joy to the harehounds that I called to help me hunt!
You fools, haven’t your nostrils flared or your hearts quaked? 170
The whole world smells of sulphur, the peak belches smoke!”
All cast their eyes to the high peak, and their lips blenched:
smoke-tufts rose swirling from the pitch-black rocks as though
the kiln of earth had cracked and all the pipes had burst.
But Granite shrugged his shoulders, nor did his eyes dim: 175
“Welcome to Death! He’s welcome, but our souls are tough!
He’ll find they clutch tight to our bones and love the flesh.”
But as he spoke, a hollow thundering made them reel
and as all four clutched at each other to keep from falling,
the man of seven souls laughed low and fiercely growled: 180
“Ho, that’s how he replies to weak man’s holy mind!”
But Rocky manfully opposed his master’s wrath:
“We’ll give that coward much more than we shall take, my friends,
stiff spite for stubborn spite, and if we’re now to die
we’ll sink into the ground bolt upright, fully armed!” 185
The suffering man caressed his comrade’s haughty head:
“Well spoken, gallant youth! If earth should gape to gulp us,
we’ll sink erect in the whirlpool! We want no other joy!
Forward! Let’s share between us the roads where Death will pass:
I’ll swiftly take the cave to soothe the frantic crowd 190
then marshal all, that no one may get lost in storm,
and march them out in light to fight Death in closed ranks.
Kentaur, take women and small children for your share
and swiftly open a straight road to the north at once,
for yesterday I saw that beasts were rushing northward. 195
Granite, keep a stern rearguard watch with your brave youths
and gather what you can of goods, of beasts, of food,
I’ve placed all hope in the seed of death-grappling man!
Rocky, stand sleepless guard high on the north town gate
and with your vigilant conch give n
otice what safe roads 200
to take, whether toward the low woods or the high peaks;
watch the whole round arena, set us on our true course.
Forgive me, Rocky, for giving you now the heaviest task:
Do you recall I promised on the shores of Crete 204
I’d not forget you, but would take your soul one day? 205
The time has come for you to show your pride and breed.’
Rocky’s heart pounded and his temples pulsed to feel
that bright immortal wreath, Death’s fresh green laurel bough:
“Master, from you I’ve always longed for one great joy:
that you would ask me for much more than I could give.” 210
Thus they spoke manfully and shared Death longingly
while the tempestuous smoke spread like a monstrous pine
and swelled in storming waves until it wrapped the sun.
The mountain thundered, flaming columns leapt on high,
and suddenly thick hot drops of mud began to fall. 215
The comrades felt that their last day on earth had come,
and the four clasped each other tight without a word
as from the burning darkness Kentaur’s groans were heard;
but first to break away was the lone man who tossed
his head as each one took his destined way with no look back. 220
As they ran on, the darkness thickened, crisscrossed stones
whizzed through the air like hail in flaming, burning lumps.
Then the great wailing burst, earth’s bowels shook and roared,
and mothers with their babes fell shrieking to the ground;
young girls held their adornments to their breasts, and ran, 225
and children stifled with their toys clutched in their arms.
In green-blue lightning flares, herds of stampeding men
blazed briefly and then plunged to dark in the striped night;
at times amid the women Kentaur’s body gleamed,
at times gaunt Granite’s body glowed as he rushed swiftly 230
to lead the young men north or kick old men aside,
and sometimes Rocky’s voice was heard choked in the din.
The rent earth shook and staggered as Odysseus dashed
to find the children’s nursery home and save the young;
his features swirled in smoke and his gray beard was singed. 235
Suddenly boiling waters streamed on the town from high,
the cavern heaved and burst, the dead leapt from their graves,
and the archer, too, leapt in the azure flames and dashed
toward the ruined threshold of the children’s shaking home.
In his wide arms he snatched the young boys, two by two, 240
and flung them in the street, then called splayfoot to come
at once with speed and herd the children swiftly north.
But that pure animal would not budge or leave his side:
“The earth sinks! I won’t leave you to face Death alone!”
He spoke, then rushed to seize his master’s arms by force, 245
but the archer reached his hands and pushed him back with rage.
Kentaur’s eyes brimmed with tears, he opened his arms wide,
but the earth shook again and cracked, the lintel bulged,
and rocks hung hovering loosely above the archer’s head.
At once broad Kentaur stooped and placed his monstrous back 250
like a broad column beneath the trembling cornerstones.
The man of seven souls growled like a tiger and sprang
clear to the street, but when he turned to find his friend
in the thick dark, he heard the creaking lintel crash,
and a bull’s bellow roared amid the tumbling stones. 255
“Flare up, O lightning flame, that I may see my friend!”
the archer roared, and dashed into the smoking ruins.
As the flames’ zigzag slashed like a red snake on earth,
it lit up Kentaur’s dreadful and most guileless head
in scattered fragments on the stone, sinking in mud. 260
Odysseus dashed without a word but gripped his mouth
to keep his jaws from chattering, then fixed bulging eyes,
dry and unmoving, on the splattered, steaming brains,
and as he looked, his hair turned white in the grim dark.
He drew back, walked earth heavily, and in the ruins 265
heard women groaning with their babes, calling on God.
A mother stood erect, her son clutched tight, and screamed;
first her black hair caught fire, then her clothes blazed up,
until she stood erect, an upright torch that fired the road.
At break of day the town sank, and the mountain’s mouth 270
closed tight and swallowed its full-sated tongues of flame;
the sun shone laughingly upon the flaming clouds,
and light spread like a rose upon the ruined land.
A mother sat upon a tree’s scorched root and clutched
her son, burnt to a cinder; round his neck still hung 275
a small bronze hand, thrice-holy charm against the evil eye.
She slowly rocked her son and cursed in lamentation:
“Foul God, may you be damned by all my twenty nails, 278
may beasts devour you in the woods, worms in the fields,
and may not one warm heart be found to give you shelter! 280
May you be cursed, foul God, who burnt my only son!”
Amid the wretched crowd that groaned and staggered by,
pale Granite mingled with scorched hair, and with great pain
caressed the men’s and women’s hair and their burnt backs,
struggling to give their quivering breasts new heart again: 285
“By God, if only two were saved on earth, a man
and maid, they’d fill the earth with sons and daughters soon!
God shouts, and we too shout until one shouts no more!”
A youth, who yesterday had seen his sweetheart burned,
jumped up with wrath and cursed the sky to ease his pain: 290
“May you rot, foul old man: May evil Death engulf you!”
But useless curses now were not to Granite’s liking:
“Friend, I believe in man; whatever on this foul earth
resists us, I’ll call God, and fight him to the end!
But onward, lads! I hate superfluous words! They’re cheap! 295
Northward in wealthy Africa a new road cleaves;
we’ll plant man’s virtue there in a new plot of ground;
the past is finished, gone, my mind’s forgot it all,
I see new seed before me and a new race of men.”
He spoke, and once again their shriveled hearts grew bold. 300
The took the dark road forward, their sharp pain grew numb,
and the mind soothed the heart with all its ancient tricks.
Dear God, don’t give man’s soul all it can truly bear!
But Granite’s soul stood upright and disdained to die;
that biting dog, his memory, snarled within his heart 305
nor would adapt, nor would forgive, nor shut its eyes.
Night fell; they lit a string of fires and slept in woods,
but haughty Granite could not close an eye in sleep
for his three friends stood mutely on his heart’s abyss.
He mumbled as his eyes glowed wildly by the fire: 310
“It’s not for you I seethe, master; I know you’ll cut
a cunning tunnel through all ruins and then emerge
astride black Charon with your pointed cap held high;
I shake for fear the flames have eaten Kentaur’s body.
Rocky, you stood erect on ramparts, zoned by flames, 315
you blew your vigilant conch to set us our true course,
but when with tears I begg
ed you to descend for fear
the town wall should crash down and crush you, ah, dear friend,
you sadly shook your head and waved a bold farewell.”
Then his eyes welled, and since he could not bear his pain, 320
jumped up at midnight, faced the leaping seething stars,
and sped on winged feet southward, cutting through the woods.
Forlorn and secret hopes blew through his mind and sailed:
perhaps he’d meet his friend’s firm body on the road
and both would cry with joy till the world bloomed again: 325
“Friend, I don’t care now if a thousand towns should fall;
we’ll place our staffs upon our shoulders and set out
like shepherds who have lost their sheep and search the slopes
yet play their pipes unruffled. Farms and flocks are good,
I know, but friendship is greater still and conquers all.” 330
Thus did poor Granite speak with his wind-battered mind
and passed through the dark wood until at dawn he saw
the waters of the lake shine calmly like red roses.
The waves played on the pebbles with a rustling swish,
vultures in flocks like heavy sheep hopped on the crags 335
and crows with sated bellies strolled and preened like haughty lords.
Granite searched for the town, but no town could be seen;
he bit his lips until his blood ran bubbling out,
and as he stood mute on the chasm’s rim and saw
the north town gate still standing upright, black and scorched, 340
a heavy groan of indignation shook his breast:
“From now on Death and God are one! May they be cursed!”
God seemed to him a crocodile in the sea’s midst
that shuts its cunning black eyes and pretends to sleep;
then brainless man takes courage, climbs its scaly back, 345
grabs trowel, clay, and stone and builds his tall dream-town,
then couples on the savage scales and fills his cradles;
but when the brainless monster suddenly flicks its back,
all, souls and rocks and swaddling clothes, roll in the waves.
Gaunt Granite stuttered, and his feet grew numb with fear 350
as though they trod upon a crocodile’s rough scales.
Stepping with care on the rim’s edge, he sank in mud
still warm, then reached the town gate at the chasm’s lip
and there, as he revived his loved friend in his heart,
and felt the world once more rebuilt within his breast, 355
he heard slow steps behind him, a faint crunch on stones,