The Odyssey

Difficult Choices

“Our ship sailed out beyond the stream of Ocean, across the waves of open sea, and came

to Aeaea, home of newborn Dawn, who dances in meadows with the beams of Helius.

We beached the ship upon the sandy shore, and disembarked, and there we fell asleep

while waiting for bright morning. When Dawn came, born early, with her fingertips like petals,

I sent my men to Circe’s house, to bring

the body of the dead Elpenor. Quickly 10

we chopped the wood and at the farthest headland we held a funeral for him, and wept

profusely, crying out in grief. We burned his body and his gear, and built a mound, and dragged a pillar onto it, and fixed his oar on top—each ritual step in turn.

Circe, the well-groomed goddess, was aware that we were back from Hades, and she hurried to meet us with her slaves. They carried bread

and meat and bright red wine. She stood among us, 20

and said,

‘This is amazing! You all went alive to Hades—you will be twice-dead, when other people only die one time!

Eat now, and stay here drinking wine all day.

At dawn, sail on. I will explain your route in detail, so no evil thing can stitch

a means to hurt you, on the land or sea.’

I am a stubborn man, but I agreed,

so there we sat and feasted on the meat

and strong sweet wine until the sun went down. 30

When darkness fell, the men slept by the ship. Then Circe took my hand, and led me off apart from them, and questioned me in detail.

I told her everything. The lady Circe replied at last,

‘That quest is over now. So listen, I will give you good instructions; another god will make sure you remember. First you will reach the Sirens, who bewitch all passersby. If anyone goes near them

in ignorance, and listens to their voices, 40

that man will never travel to his home,

and never make his wife and children happy to have him back with them again. The Sirens who sit there in their meadow will seduce him with piercing songs. Around about them lie

great heaps of men, flesh rotting from their bones, their skin all shriveled up. Use wax to plug

your sailors’ ears as you row past, so they

are deaf to them. But if you wish to hear them,

your men must fasten you to your ship’s mast 50

by hand and foot, straight upright, with tight ropes. So bound, you can enjoy the Sirens’ song.

But if you beg your men to set you free, they have to tie you down with firmer knots.

I will not give you definite instructions

about which route to take when you have sailed beyond the Sirens. Let your heart decide.

There are two choices, and the first goes through vast overhanging rocks, which Amphitrite

batters aggressively with mighty waves. 60

The blessed gods call these the Wandering Rocks. No birds can fly through safe, not even doves, who bring ambrosia to Zeus. One dove

‌is always lost in that sheer gulf of stone and Zeus must send another to restore the number of the flock. No human ship

has ever passed there. When one tries to enter, the waves and raging gusts of fire engulf

ship timbers and the bodies of the men.

‌Only the famous Argo sailed through there 70

returning from the visit with Aeetes.

The current hurled the ship towards the rocks,
but Hera, who loved Jason, led them safe.
Taking the second way, you meet two rocks:
one reaches up to heaven with its peak,
surrounded by blue fog that never clears.
No light comes through there, even in the summer.
No man could climb it or set foot upon it,
even if he had twenty hands and feet.
The rock is sheer, as if it had been polished.	80
Right in the middle lies a murky cave
that faces west, towards dark Erebus.
Steer your ship past it, great Odysseus.
The hollow cave is so high up, no man
could shoot it with an arrow. There lives Scylla,
howling and barking horribly; her voice
is puppylike, but she is dangerous;
even a god would be afraid of her.
She has twelve dangling legs and six long necks
with a gruesome head on each, and in each face		90
three rows of crowded teeth, pregnant with death.
Her belly slumps inside the hollow cave;
she keeps her heads above the yawning chasm
and scopes around the rock, and hunts for fish.
She catches dolphins, seals, and sometimes even
enormous whales—Queen Amphitrite, ruler
of roaring waters, nurtures many creatures.
No sailors ever pass that way unharmed.
She snatches one man with each mouth from off
each dark-prowed ship. The other rock is near,		100
enough to shoot an arrow right across.
This second rock is lower down, and on it
there grows a fig tree with thick leaves. Beneath,
divine Charybdis sucks black water down.
Three times a day she spurts it up; three times
she glugs it down. Avoid that place when she
is swallowing the water. No one could
save you from death then, even great Poseidon.

Row fast, and steer your ship alongside Scylla, since it is better if you lose six men 110

than all of them.’

I answered, ‘Goddess, please, tell me the truth: is there no other way?

Or can I somehow circumvent Charybdis and stop that Scylla when she tries to kill my men?’

The goddess answered, ‘No, you fool!

Your mind is still obsessed with deeds of war. But now you must surrender to the gods.

She is not mortal. She is deathless evil, terrible, wild and cruel. You cannot fight her. The best solution and the only way 120

is flight. I am afraid if you take time to arm beside the rock, she will attack

‌again with all six heads and take six more. So row away with all your might, and call on Scylla’s mother, Cratais, Great Force, who bore her as a blight on humankind.

Go fast, before the goddess strikes again.

Then you will reach the island called Thrinacia, where Helius keeps sheep and many cattle:

fifty per herd, with seven herds in all. 130

They never reproduce or die, and those

who tend them are the smooth-haired goddesses,

‌Phaethousa and Lampetia, the shining daughters of Helius by bright Neaira.

She brought them up, then sent them off to live there in remote Thrinacia, to guard

their father’s sheep and cattle. If you can remember home and leave the cows unharmed, you will at last arrive in Ithaca.

But if you damage them, I must foretell 140

disaster for your ship and for your crew.

Even if you survive, you will return late and humiliated, having caused the death of all your men.’

The golden throne of Dawn was riding up the sky as Circe concluded, and she strode across her island.

I went back to my ship and roused the men

to get on board and loose the sternward cables. Embarking, they sat down, each in his place,

and struck the gray saltwater with their oars. 150

Behind our dark-prowed ship, the dreadful goddess Circe sent friendly wind to fill the sails.

We worked efficiently to organize

the rigging, and the breeze and pilot steered. Then with an anxious heart I told the crew,

‘My friends, the revelations Circe shared with me should not be kept a secret, known to me alone. I will share them with you, and we can die in knowledge of the truth,

or else escape. She said we must avoid 160

the voices of the otherworldly Sirens;

steer past their flowering meadow. And she says that I alone should hear their singing. Bind me, to keep me upright at the mast, wound round with rope. If I beseech you and command you to set me free, you must increase my bonds

and chain me even tighter.’

So I told them each detail. Soon our well-built ship, blown fast by fair winds, neared the island of the Sirens,

and suddenly, the wind died down. Calm came. 170

Some spirit lulled the waves to sleep. The men got up, pulled down the sails, and stowed them in the hollow hold. They sat at oar and made

the water whiten, struck by polished wood.

I gripped a wheel of wax between my hands and cut it small. Firm kneading and the sunlight warmed it, and then I rubbed it in the ears

of each man in his turn. They bound my hands and feet, straight upright at the mast. They sat

and hit the sea with oars. We traveled fast, 180

and when we were in earshot of the Sirens,

they knew our ship was near, and started singing.

‘Odysseus! Come here! You are well-known from many stories! Glory of the Greeks!

Now stop your ship and listen to our voices.

All those who pass this way hear honeyed song, poured from our mouths. The music brings them joy, and they go on their way with greater knowledge, since we know everything the Greeks and Trojans

suffered in Troy, by gods’ will; and we know 190

whatever happens anywhere on earth.’

Their song was so melodious, I longed to listen more. I told my men to free me.

I scowled at them, but they kept rowing on.

Eurylochus and Perimedes stood

and tied me even tighter, with more knots. But when we were well past them and I could no longer hear the singing of the Sirens,

I nodded to my men, and they removed

the wax that I had used to plug their ears, 200

and untied me. When we had left that island, I saw a mighty wave and smoke, and heard a roar. The men were terrified; their hands

let fall the oars—they splashed down in the water. The ship stayed still, since no one now was pulling the slender blades. I strode along the deck

pausing to cheer each man, then gave a speech to rally all of them.

‘Dear friends! We are experienced in danger. This is not

worse than the time the Cyclops captured us, 210

and forced us to remain inside his cave. We got away that time, thanks to my skill and brains and strategy. Remember that.

Come on then, all of you, and trust my words. Sit on your benches, strike the swelling deep with oars, since Zeus may grant us a way out from this disaster also. Pilot, listen:

these are your orders. As you hold the rudder, direct the ship away from that dark smoke

and rising wave, and head towards the rock; 220

if the ship veers the other way, you will endanger us.’

They promptly followed orders.

I did not mention Scylla, since she meant inevitable death, and if they knew,

the men would drop the oars and go and huddle down in the hold in fear. Then I ignored Circe’s advice that I should not bear arms;

it was too hard for me. I dressed myself in glorious armor; in my hands I took

two long spears, and I climbed up on the forecastle. 230

I thought that rocky Scylla would appear from that direction, to destroy my men.

So we rowed through the narrow strait in tears. On one side, Scylla; on the other, shining Charybdis with a dreadful gurgling noise

sucked down the water. When she spewed it out, she seethed, all churning like a boiling cauldron on a huge fire. The froth flew high, to spatter the topmost rocks on either side. But when

she swallowed back the sea, she seemed all stirred 240

from inside, and the rock around was roaring dreadfully, and the dark-blue sand below was visible. The men were seized by fear.

But while our frightened gaze was on Charybdis, Scylla snatched six men from the ship—my strongest, best fighters. Looking back from down below,

I saw their feet and hands up high, as they were carried off. In agony they cried

to me and called my name—their final words. As when a fisherman out on a cliff 250

‌casts his long rod and line set round with oxhorn to trick the little fishes with his bait;

when one is caught, he flings it gasping back onto the shore—so those men gasped as Scylla lifted them up high to her rocky cave

and at the entrance ate them up—still screaming, still reaching out to me in their death throes.

That was the most heartrending sight I saw

in all the time I suffered on the sea.

Free from the rocks of Scylla and Charybdis 260

we quickly reached the island of the god, Hyperion’s son Helius, the Sun God.

There were his cattle, with their fine broad faces, and many flocks of well-fed sheep. While still out on the sea in my black ship, I heard

the lowing of the cattle in their pens, and bleating of the sheep. I kept in mind the words of blind Tiresias the prophet

and Circe. Both had given strict instructions that we avoid the island of the Sun, 270

the god of human joy. I told the men with heavy heart,

‘My friends, I know how much you have endured. But listen to me now.

Tiresias and Circe both insisted

we must avoid the island of the Sun,

the joy of mortals. They said dreadful danger lurks there for us. We have to steer our ship around it.’

They were quite downcast by this.

Eurylochus said angrily to me,

‘You are unfair to us, Odysseus. 280

You may be strong; you never seem to tire; you must be made of iron. But we men have had no rest or sleep; we are exhausted.

And you refuse to let us disembark

and cook our tasty dinner on this island.

You order us to drift around all night in our swift ship across the misty sea.

At night, fierce storms rise up and wreck men’s ships, and how can anyone escape disaster

if sudden gusts of wind from north or west 290

bring cruel blasts to break the ship, despite the wishes of the gods? Let us submit

to evening. Let us stay here, and cook food beside the ship. At dawn we can embark and sail the open sea.’

That was his speech.

The other men agreed, and then I saw

a spirit must be plotting our destruction. My words flew out.

‘Eurylochus! You force me to yield, since I am one and you are many.

But all of you, swear me a mighty oath: 300

if we find any herd of cows, or flock of sheep, do not be fool enough to kill a single animal. Stay clear, and eat the food provided by immortal Circe.’

They swore as I commanded. When they finished making the oath, we set our well-built ship

inside the curving harbor, near freshwater. The men got out and skillfully cooked dinner. When they were satisfied with food and drink,

they wept, remembering their dear companions, 310

whom Scylla captured from the ship and ate. Sweet sleep came down upon them as they cried. When night was over, when the stars were gone, Zeus roused a blast of wind, an eerie storm.

He covered earth and sea with fog, and darkness fell down from heaven. When rose-fingered Dawn appeared, we dragged the ship inside a cave,

a place Nymphs danced in, and we moored it there. I gave a speech to my assembled men.

‘My friends, we have supplies on board. Let us 320

not touch the cattle, or we will regret it. Those cows and fat sheep are the property of Helius, the great Sun God, who sees

all things, and hears all things.’ I told them this.

Reluctantly they yielded. But that month

the South Wind blew and never stopped. No other was ever blowing, only South and East.

While the men still had food and wine, they kept clear of the cows. They hoped to save their lives.

But when our ship’s supplies ran out, the men 330

were forced to hunt; they used their hooks to catch both fish and birds, whatever they could get,

since hunger gnawed their bellies. I strode off to pray, in case some god would show me how to get back home. I left my men behind,

and crossed the island, washed my hands, in shelter out of the wind, and prayed to all the gods.

They poured sweet sleep upon my eyes.

Meanwhile,

Eurylochus proposed a foolish plan.

‘Listen, my friends! You have already suffered 340

too much. All human deaths are hard to bear. But starving is most miserable of all.

So let us poach the finest of these cattle, and sacrifice them to the deathless gods.

If we get home to Ithaca, at once

we will construct a temple to the Sun God, with treasure in it. If he is so angry

about these cows that he decides to wreck our ship, and if the other gods agree—

I would prefer to drink the sea and die 350

at once, than perish slowly, shriveled up here on this desert island.’

All the others agreed with him. They went to poach the best of Helius’ cattle, which were grazing

beside the ship. The men surrounded them,

‌and called upon the gods. They had plucked leaves from oak trees—on the ship there was no barley.

They prayed, then killed them, skinned them, and cut off the thighs, and covered up the bones with fat,

a double layer, with raw meat on top. 360

They had no wine to pour libations over the burning offering, but they made do with water, and they roasted all the innards.

And when the thighs were burned, the entrails sprinkled, they cut the other meat up into chunks

for skewers.

Sweet sleep melted from my eyes; I rushed back to the ship beside the shore.

When I was close, the meaty smell of cooking enfolded me. I groaned, and told the gods,

‘O Zeus, and all you deathless gods! You blinded 370

my mind with that infernal sleep. My men did dreadful things while I was gone.’

Meanwhile,

Lampetia in flowing skirts ran off

to tell the Sun God we had killed his cows. Enraged, he called the other gods.

‘Great Zeus, and all you other deathless gods, you must

punish Odysseus’ men. They killed my cattle! I delighted in those cows

all through each day, when I went up to heaven

and when I turned to earth. If they do not 380

repay me, I will sink down into Hades

and bring my bright light only to the dead.’

Zeus answered, ‘Helius! Please shine with us and shine for mortals on life-giving earth.

I will immediately smite their ship

with my bright thunderbolt, and smash it up in fragments, all across the wine-dark sea.’

I heard this from the beautiful Calypso, who had been told by Hermes.

Back on shore beside my ship, I scolded each of them. 390

It did no good; the cows were dead already. The gods sent signs—the hides began to twitch, the meat on skewers started mooing, raw

and cooked. There was the sound of cattle lowing.

For six days my men banqueted on beef from Helius. When Zeus, the son of Cronus, led in the seventh day, the wind became

less stormy, and we quickly went on board. We set the mast up and unfurled the sails and set out on the open sea.

When we 400

had left that island, we could see no other, only the sky and sea. Zeus made a mass

of dark-blue storm cloud hang above our ship.

The sea grew dark beneath it. For a moment

the ship moved on, but then came Zephyr, shrieking, noisily rushing, with torrential tempest.

A mighty gust of wind broke off both forestays; the tacking was all scattered in the hold.

The mast was broken backwards, and it struck

the pilot in the stern; it smashed his skull. 410

His bones were crushed, his skeleton was smashed. He fell down like a diver from the deck;

his spirit left his body. At that instant,

Zeus thundered and hurled bolts to strike the ship; shaken, it filled with sulfur. All the men

fell overboard, and they were swept away like seagulls on the waves beside the ship.

The gods prevented them from reaching home.

I paced on board until the current ripped

the ship’s side from the keel. The waves bore off 420

the husk, and snapped the mast. But thrown across it there was a backstay cable, oxhide leather.

With this I lashed the keel and mast together, and rode them, carried on by fearsome winds. At last the tempest ceased, the West Wind lulled. I worried that the South Wind might compel me to backtrack, to the terrible Charybdis.

All night I was swept backwards and at sunrise I came back to the dreadful rocks of Scylla

and of Charybdis, gulping salty water, 430

and overshadowed by the fig tree’s branches.

I jumped and clutched its trunk, batlike—unable to plant my feet, or climb. The roots were down too low; the tall long branches were too high.

So I kept clinging on; I hoped Charybdis

would belch my mast and keel back up. She did! As one who spends the whole day judging quarrels between young men, at last goes home to eat—

at that same hour, the planks came bobbing up out of Charybdis. I let go my hands 440

and feet and dropped myself way down to splash into the sea below, beside the timbers

of floating wood. I clambered onto them, and used my hands to row myself away,

and Zeus ensured that Scylla did not see me, or else I could not have survived. I drifted for nine days. On the evening of the tenth, the gods helped me to reach the island of the dreadful, beautiful, divine Calypso.

She loved and cared for me. Why should I tell 450

the story that I told you and your wife yesterday in your house? It is annoying, repeating tales that have been told before.”