The girl is mine, and she'll be an old woman in Argos

Before I let her go, working the loom in my house

And coming to my bed, far from her homeland.

Now clear out of here before you make me angry

Iliad

Homer

The old man was afraid and did as he was told.

He walked in silence along the whispering surf line,

And when he had gone some distance the priest

Prayed to Lord Apollo, son of silken-haired Leto

Iliad

Homer

"Hear me, Silverbow, Protector of Chryse,

Lord of Holy Cilla, Master of Tenedos,

And Sminthian God of Plague!"

Iliad

Homer

"If ever I've built a temple that pleased you

Or burnt fat thighbones of bulls and goats-

Grant me this prayer:

Let the Danaans pay for my tears with your arrows!"

Iliad

Homer

Pulsing with fury, bow slung over one shoulder,

The arrows rattling in their case on his back

As the angry god moved like night down the mountain.

Iliad

Homer

He settled near the ships and let loose an arrow.

Reverberation from his silver bow hung in the air.

He picked off the pack animals first, and the lean hounds,

But then aimed his needle-tipped arrows at the men

And shot until the death-fires crowded the beach.

Iliad

Homer

"Maybe he'd be willing to lift this plague from us

If he savored the smoke from lambs and prime goats."

Iliad

Homer

"He might swallow his temper

For a day, but he holds it in his heart until later

And it all comes out. Will you guarantee my security?"

Iliad

Homer

He will not lift this foul plague from the Greeks

Until we return the dancing -eyed girl to ther father

Unransomed, unbought, and make formal sacrifice

On Chryse. Only then might we appease the god."

Iliad

Homer

Furious, anger like twin black thunderheads seething

In his lungs, and his eyes flickered with fire

As he looked Calchas up and down

Iliad

Homer

"You damn soothsayer!

You've never given me a good omen yet.

You take some kind of perverse pleasure in prophesying

Iliad

Homer

They didn't do anything to me to make me Come over here and fight, didn't run off my cattle or horses

Or ruin my farmland back home in Phthia, not with all

The shadowy mountains and moaning seas between.

Iliad

Homer

No, I do all the dirty work with my own hands,

And when t he battle's over and we divide the loot

You get the lion's share and I go back to the ships

With some pitiful little thing, so worn out from fighting

I don't have the strength left even to complain.

Iliad

Homer

Well, I'm going back to Phthia now. Far better

To head home with my curved ships than stay here,

Unhonored myself and piling up a fortune for you.

Iliad

Homer

To me, you're the most hateful king under heaven,

A born troublemaker. You actually like fighting and war.

If you're all that strong, it's just a gift from some god.

Iliad

Homer

I'm coming to your hut and taking Briseis,

Your own beautiful prize, so that you will see just how much

Stronger I am than you, and the next person will wince

At the thought of opposing me as an equal.

Iliad

Homer

When you two speak, Goddess, a man has to listen

No matter how angry. It's better that way.

Obey the gods and they hear you when you pray.

Iliad

Homer

By this scepter, which will never sprout leaf

Or branch again since it was cut from its stock

In the mountains, which will bloom no more

Now that bronze has pared off leaf and bark,

And which now the sons of the Greeks hold in their hands

Iliad

Homer

Those were his words, and eh slammed the scepter,

Studded with gold, to the ground and sat down.

Iliad

Homer

Then Nestor

Stood up, sweet-worded Nestor, the orator from Pylos

With a voice high-toned and liquid as honey.

He had seen two generations of men pass away

In sandy Pylos and was now king in the third.

He was full of good will in the speech he made

Iliad

Homer

Now you listen to me, both of you. You are both

Younger than I am, and I've associated with men

Better than you, and they didn't treat me lightly.

Iliad

Homer

I was their companion, although I came from Pylos,

From the ends of the earth - they sent for me themselves.

And I held my own fighting with them. You couldn't find

A mortal on earth who could fight with them now.

Iliad

Homer

But this man wants to be ahead of everyone else,

He wants to rule everyone, give orders to everyone,

Lord it over everyone, and he's not going to get away with it.

If the gods eternal made me a spearman, does that mean

They gave him permission to be insolent as well?

Iliad

Homer

Ha and think of the names people would call me

If I bowed and scraped every time you opened your mouth.

Try that on somebody else, but not on me.

Iliad

Homer

Let everybody here see how fast

Your black blood boils up around my spear.

Iliad

Homer

You two are witnesses before the blessed gods,

Before mortal men and that heard-hearted king,

If ever I'm needed to protect the others

From being hacked to bits.

Iliad

Homer

His mind is murky with anger,

And he doesn't have the sense to look ahead and behind

To see how the Greeks might defend their ships.

Iliad

Homer

Then, in tears,

Withdrew from his friends and sat down far away

On the foaming white seashore, staring out

At the endless sea. Stretching out his hands,

He prayed over and over to his beloved mother

Iliad

Homer

His voice, choked with tears, was heard by his mother

As she sat in the sea-depths beside her old father.

Seh rose up from the white-capped sea like a mist,

And settling herself beside her weeping child

She stroked him with her hand and talked to him

Iliad

Homer

Why are you crying, son? What's wrong?

Don't keep it inside. Tell me so we'll both know.

Iliad

Homer

A prophet told us the Arch-Destroyer's will,

And I demanded the god be appeased.

Iliad

Homer

O my poor child. I bore you for sorrow,

Nursed you for grief. Why? You should be

Spending your time here by your ships

Happily and untroubled by tears,

Since life is short for you, all too brief.

Iliad

Homer

Now you're destined for both an early death

And misery beyond compare. It was for this

I gave birth to you in your father's palace

Under and evil star.

Iliad

Homer

And she left him there, angry and heartsick

At being forced to give up the silken-waisted girl.

Iliad

Homer

when they were well within the deepwater harbor

They furled the sail and stowed it in the ship's hold,

Slackened the forestays and lowered the mast,

Working quickly, then rowed her to a mooring, where

They dropped anchor and made the stern cables fast.

Iliad

Homer

Moving quickly, they lines the hundred oxen

Round the massive altar, a glorious offering,

Washed their hands and sprinkled on the victims

Sacrificial barley.

Iliad

Homer

An indigo wave

Hissed off the bow as the ship surged on,

Leaving a wake as she held on course through the billows.

Iliad

Homer

whent hey reached the beachhead they hauled the black ship

High on the sand and jammed in the long chocks;

Then the crew scattered to their own huts and ships.

Iliad

Homer

He was not to be seen in council, that arena for glory,

Nor in combat. He sat tight in camp consumed with grief,

His great heart yearning for the battle cry and war.

Iliad

Homer

Give me a clear yes or no. Either nod in assent

Or refuse me. Why should you care if I know

How negligible a goddess I am in your eyes.

Iliad

Homer

And so you can have some peace of mind,

I'll say yes to you by nodding my head,

The ultimate pledge. Unambiguous,

Irreversible, and absolutely fulfilled,

Whatever I say yes to with a nod of my head.

Iliad

Homer

Black brows

Lowered, a glory of hair cascaded down from the Lord's

Immortal head, and the holy mountain trembled.

Iliad

Homer

Who was that you were scheming with just now?

You just love devising secret plots behind my back,

Don't you? You can't bear to tell me what you're thinking,

Or you don't dare. Never have and never will.

Iliad

Homer

Pry? You know that I never pry. And you always

Cheerfully volunteer - whatever information you please.

It's just that I have this feeling that somehow

The silver-footed daughter of the Old Man of the Sea

May have won you over. She was sitting beside you

Up there in the mists, and she did touch your knees.

Iliad

Homer

You witch! Your intuitions are always right.

But what does it get you? Nothing, except that

I like you less than ever. And so you're worse off.

If it's as you think it is, it's my business, not yours.

So sit down and shut up and do as I say.

Iliad

Homer

And so all day long until the sun went down

They feasted to their hearts' content,

Iliad

Homer

And which mortal hero are you? I've never seen you

Out here before on the fields of glory,

And now here you are ahead of everyone,

Ready to face my spear. Pretty bold.

I feel sorry for your parents.

Iliad

Homer

Human generations are like leaves in their seasons.

The wind blows them to the ground, but the tree

Sprouts new ones when spring comes again.

Men too. Their generations come and go.

Iliad

Homer

And when he saw the evil tokens from Proetus,

He ordered him, first, to kill the Chimaera,

A raging monster, divine, inhuman-

A lion in the front, a serpent in the rear,

In the middle a goat-and breathing fire.

Iliad

Homer

When the king realized his guest had divine blood,

He kept him there and gave him his daughter

And half of all his royal honor. Moreover,

The lycians cut out for him a superb

Tract of land, plow-land and orchard.

Iliad

Homer

And let's exchange armor, so everyone will know

That we are friends from our father's days.

Iliad

Homer

Mother, don't offer me any wine.

It would drain the power out of my limbs.

Iliad

Homer

Brother-in-law

Of a scheming, cold-blooded bitch

I wish that on the day my mother bore me

A windstorm had swept me away to a mountain

Or into the waves of the restless sea,

Swept me away before all this could happen.

Iliad

Homer

He looked at his son and smiled in silence.

Andromache stood close to him, shedding tears,

Clinging to his arm as she spoke these words

Iliad

Homer

He burned it instead with all his armor

And heaped up a barrow. And the spirit women

Came down from the mountain, daughters

Of the storm god, and planted elm trees around it.

YOu are my father, you are my mother,

You are my brother and my blossoming husband.

But show some pity and stay here by the tower,

Don't make your child an orphan, your wife a widow.

Picture a horse that has fed on barley in his stall

Breaking his halter and galloping across the plain,

Making for his accustomed swim in the river,

A glorious animal, head held high, mane streaming

Like wind on his shoulders. Sure of his splendor

He prances by the horse-runs and the mares in pasture.

Stars: crowds of them in the sky, sharp

In the moonglow when the wind falls

And all the cliffs and hills and peaks

Stand out and the air shears down

From heaven, and all the stars are visible

And the watching shepherd smiles

And fifty men

Warmed their hands by the flames of each fire.

And the horses champed white barley,

Standing by their chariots, waiting for Dawn

To take her seat on brocaded cushions.

When two winds rise on the swarming deep,

Boreas and Zephyr, blowing from Thrace

In a sudden squall, the startled black waves

Will crest and tangle the surf with seaweed.

I have no doubt that this is the high will

Of the god who has toppled so many cities

And will in the future, all glory to his power.

So this is my command for the entire army:

Clear out with our ships and head for home.

I'm going to oppose you if you talk foolishness-

As is my right in assembly, lord. Keep your temper.

First of all, you insulted me, saying in public

I was unwarlike and weak.

I tried to dissuade you, but you gave in

To your pride and dishonored a great man

Whom the immoratls esteem. You took his prize

And keep it still. But it is not too late. Even now

We must think of how to win him back

With appeasing gifts and soothing words.

but since I did succumb to a fit of madness,

I want to make substantial amends.

but it is up to you

To control your proud spirit. A friendly heart

Is far better.

It doesn't matter if you stay in camp or fight-

In the end, everybody comes out the same.

Coward and hero get the same reward:

You die whether you slack off or work.

Every decent, sane man

Loves his woman and cares for her, as I did,

Loved her from my heart. It doesn't matter

That I won her with my spear.

He took her,

Took her right out of my hands, cheated me,

And now he thinks he's going to win me back?

He can forget it. I know how things stand.

He spoke, and they were hushed in silence,

Shocked by his speech and his stark refusal.

Finally the old horseman Phoenix spoke,

Bursting into tears. He felt the ships were lost.

I went through a lot for you, because I knew

The gods would never let me have a child

Of my own.

If you're his friend

You're no longer mine, although I love you.

Hate him because I hate him. It's as simple as that.

You're like a second father to me. Stay here,

Be king with me and share half the honor.

These others can take my message. Lie down

And spend the night on a soft couch. At  daybreak

We will decide whether to set sail or stay.

He is a cruel man, and has no regard

For the love that his friends honored him with,

Beyond anyone else who camps with the ships.

A man accepts compensation

For a murdered brother, a dead son.

The killer goes on living in the same town

After paying blood money, and the bereaved

Restrains his proud spirit and broken heart

Because he has received payment.

But you,

The gods have replaced your heart with flint and malice, because of one girl,

One single girl, while we are offering you

Seven of the finest women to be found

And many other gifts. Show some generosity

And some respect.

High above a cliff vultures are screaming

In the air as they savage each other's craws

With their hooked beaks and talons.

As a tree falls, oak, or poplar, or spreading pine,

When carpenters cut it down in the forest

With their bright axes, to be the beam of a ship

Like some tawny, spirited bull a lion has killed

In the middle of the shambling heard, groaning

As it dies beneath the predator's jaws.

Wood cutters are working in a distant valey,

But the sound of their axes, and of trees falling,

Can be heard for miles around in the mountains.

But if you have ever seen how flies

Cluster about the brimming milk pails

On a dairy farm in early summer,

You will have some idea of the throng

Around Sarpedon's corpse

Cleanse his wounds of all the clotted blood,

And wash him in the river far away

And anoint him with our holy chrism

And wrap the body in a deathless shroud

And give him over to be taken swiftly

By Sleep and Death to Lycia,

Where his people shall give him burial

With mound and stone, as befits the dead

Like a lion who has been wounded in the chest

As he ravages a farmstead, and his own valor

Destroys him.

Like a pair of lions fighting over a slain deer

In the high mountains, both f them ravenous,

Both high of heart, very much like these two

Human heroes hacking at each other with bronze.

Winds sometimes rise in a deep mountain wood

From different directions, and the trees-

Beech, ash, and cornelian cherry-

Batter each other with their long, tapered branches,

And you can hear the sound from a long way off,

The unnerving splintering of hardwood limbs.

While the sun still straddled heaven's meridian,

Soldiers on both sides were hit and fell.

But when the sun moved down the sky and men

All over earth were unyoking their oxen,

The Greeks' success exceeded their destiny.

A boar does not wear out easily, but a lion

Will overpower it when the two face off

Over a trickling spring up in the mountains

They both want to drink from. The boar

Pants hard, but the lion comes out on top.

Death's veil covered him as he said these things;

And his soul, bound for Hades, fluttered out

Resentfully, forsaking manhood's bloom.

He scooped up fistfuls of sunburnt dust

And poured it on his head, fouling

His beautiful face. Black ash grimed

His fine-spun cloak as he stretched his huge body

Out in the dust and lay there,

Tearing out his hair with his hands.

Down in the water his mother heard him,

Sitting in the sea depths beside her old father,

And she began to wail.

Hear me, sisters, hear the pain in my heart.

I gave birth to a son, and that is my sorrow,

My perfect son, the best of heroes.

And now I will never

Welcome him home again to Peleus' house.

As long as he lives and sees the sunlight

He will be in pain, and I cannot help him.

But I'll go now to see and hear my dear son,

Since he is suffering while he waits out the war.

Then let me die now. I was no help

To him when he was killed out there. He died

Far from home, and he needed me to protect him.

But you, don't dive into the red dust of war

Until with your own eyes you see me returning.

Tomorrow I will come with the rising sun

Bearing beautiful armor from Lord Hephaestus.

It was like shepherds against a starving lion,

Helpless to beat it back from a carcass

How can I go to war? They have my armor.

And my mother told me not to arm myself

Until with my own eyes I see her come back

With fine weapons from Hephaestus.

Around

His mighty shoulders Athena threw

Her tasselled aegis, and the shining goddess

Haloed his head with a golden cloud

Taht shot flames from its incandescent glow.

Smoke is rising through the pure upper air

From a besieged city on a distant island.

Its soldiers have fought hard all day,

But at sunset they light innumerable fires

So that their neighbors in other cities

Might see the glare reflected off the sky

And sail to their help as allies in war.

You have heard the piercing sound of horns

When squadrons come to destroy a city.

Shedding hot tears when he saw his loyal friend

Stretched out on the litter, cut with sharp bronze.

He had sent him off to war with horses and chariot,

But he never welcomed him back home again.

And now the ox-eyed Lady Hera

Sent the tireless, reluctant sun

Under the horizon into Ocean's streams,

Its last rays touching the departing Greeks with gold.

It had been a day of brutal warfare.

He will go back to the ships

After he has had enough of parading

His high-necked prancers in front of the city.

He will not have the will to force his way in.

Dogs will eat him before he takes our town.

Whose cubs some deer hunter has smuggled out

Of the dense woods. When the lion returns,

It tracks the human from valley to valley,

Growling low the whole time. Sometimes it finds him.

And the shining goddess led her along

And had her sit down in a graceful

Silver-studded chair with a footstool.

He put on a tunic,

Grabbed a stout staff, and as he went out

Limping, attendants rushed up to support him,

Attendants made of gold who looked like real girls,

With a mind within, and a voice, and strength,

And knowledge of crafts from the immortal gods.

He cast durable bronze onto the fire, and tin,

Precious gold and silver. Then he positioned

His enormous anvil up on its block

And grasped his mighty hammar

In one hand, and in the other his tongs.

He made a shield first, heavy and huge,

Every inch of it intricately designed.

He threw a triple rim around it, glittering

Like lightning, and he made the strap silver.

The shield itself was five layers thick, and he

Crafted its surface with all his genius.

On it he made the earth, the sky, the sea,

The unwearied sun, and the moon near full,

And all the signs that garland the sky,

Pleiades, Hyades, mighty Orion,

And the Bear they also call the Wagon,

Which pivots in place and looks back at Orion

And alone is aloof from the wash of Ocean.

When a young man is killed in war,

Even though his body is slashed with bronze,

He lies there beautiful in death noble.

But when the dogs maraud an old man's head,

Griming his white hair and beard and private parts,

There's no human fate more pitiable.

Sirius rises late in the dark, liquid sky

On summer nights, star of stars,

Orion's Dog they call it, brightest

Of all, but an evil portent, bringing heat

And fevers to suffering humanity.

Tense and coiled

As a man approaches

Its lair in the mountains,

Venom in its fangs

And poison in its heart

Glittering eyes

Glaring from the rocks

You have seen a falcon

In a long, smooth dive

Attack a fluttering dove

Far below in the hills.

The falcon screams,

Swoops, and plunges

In its lust for prey.

They ran by these springs, pursuer and pursued-

A great man out front, a far greater behind-

And they ran all out. This was not a race

For such a prize as athletes compete for,

An oxhide or animal for sacrifice, but a race

For the lifeblood of Hector, breaker of horses.

But champion horses wheeling round the course,

Hooves flying, pour it on in a race for a prize-

A woman or tripod-at a hero's funeral games

O Father

You may be the Lord of Lightning and the Dark Cloud,

But what a thing to say, to save a mortal man,

With his fate already fixed, from rattling death!

Do it. But don't expect us all to approve.

There, there, daughter, my heart wasn't in it.

I did not mean to displease you, my child. Go now,

Do what you have in mind without delay.

A hunting hound starts a fawn in the hills,

Follows it through brakes and hollows,

And if it hides in a thicket, circles,

Picks up the trail, and renews the chase.

Running in a dream, you can't catch up,

You can't catch up and you can't get away.

Do lions make peace treaties with men?

Do wolves and lambs agree to get along?

No, they hate each other to the core,

And that's how it is between you and me,

No talk of agreements until one of us

Falls and gluts Ares with his blood.

My fate is here,

But I will not perish without some great deed

That future generations will remember.

A high-flying eagle dives

Through ebony clouds down

To the sun-scutched plain to claw

A lamb or a quivering hare.

Don't whine to me about my parents,

You dog! I wish my stomach would let me

Cu off your flesh in strips and eat it raw

For what you've done to me. There is no one

And no way to keep the dogs off your head,

Not even if they bring ten or twenty

Ransoms, pile them up here and promise more

Your clothes are stored away,

Beautiful, fine clothes made by women's hands-

I'll burn them all now in a blazing fire.

They're no use to you, you'll never lie

On the pyre in them. Burning them will be

Your glory before Trojan men and women.

His twisted mind is set on what he wants,

As savage as a lion bristling with pride,

Attacking men's flocks to make himself a feast.

Shame sometimes hurts men, but it helps them too.

A man may lose someone dearer than Achilles has,

A brother from the same womb, or a son,

But when he has wept and mourned, he lets go.

Does this make him a better or nobler man?

He should fear our wrath, good as he may be,

For he defiles the dumb earth in his rage.

All of you gods came to her wedding,

And you too were at the feast, lyre in hand,

Our forever faithless and fair-weather friend.

Like a lead sinker on a line

that takes a hook of sharpened horn

Down to deal death to nibbling fish.

Why would the great god want me? I am ashamed

To mingle with the immortals, distraught as I am.

But I will go, and he will not speak in vain.

And she veiled her brightness in a shawl.

Of midnight blue and set out with Iris before her.

The sea parted around them in waves.

She found him there

Lost in grief. His friends were all around,

Busily preparing their morning meal,

For which a great shaggy ram and been slaughtered.

My son, how long will you let this grief

Eat at your heart, mindless of food and rest?

it would be good to make love to a woman.

It hurts me to say it, but you will not live

Much longer. Death and Doom are beside you.

This is how Fate

Spun her stern thread for him in my womb,

taht he would glut lean hounds far from his parents,

With that violent man close by.

Don't hold me back when I want to go,

And don't be a bird of ill omen

In my halls. You will not persuade me!

If anyone else on earth told me to do this,

A seer, diviner, or priest, we would

Set it aside and count it false.

But I heard the goddess myself and saw her face.

Ares killed them, and now all I have left

Are these petty delinquents, pretty boys, and cheats,

These dancers, toe-tapping champions,

Renowned throughout the neighborhood for filching goats!

Iliad

Homer

Passion sometimes blinds a man so completely

That he kills one of his own countrymen.

In exile, he comes into a wealthy house,

And everyone stares at him with wonder

Oedipus The King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles

Oedipus the King

Sophocles