Book XIII · Ῥαψωδία ν

That's what he said, and the whole room went dead silent, not a single peep,

straight up spellbound, fully locked in across those shadowy halls.

And then Alcinous grabbed the floor right back and hit him with this:

"Odysseus, since you've pulled up to my bronze-floored crib,

the high-roofed one, ngl I'm not seeing you get knocked off course

And to every single one of you I'm dropping this straight, no filter,

all of you who post up in my halls and sip the elder's

gleaming wine on the regular, soaking up the bard like it's free:

the guest's clothes are already tucked away snug in the polished chest,

all the gifts the Phaeacian counsellors hauled in here for him.

But come on, let's each chip in one big tripod and a cauldron,

one apiece: then we'll go round the people and recoup the bill,

because it lowkey stings for one man to be generous all solo, no cap."

Then each one of them dipped off home to crash for the night:

and the second early-born Dawn pulled up doing her rosy-fingertip thing,

they were sprinting down to the ship, hauling that bronze a man flexes hard.

And Alcinous, that royal force, stowed it all away proper himself,

so none of it would trip up the crew once they got grinding at the oars.

Then they all rolled back to Alcinous's place and got the feast going.

And Alcinous, that royal force, opened up an ox's throat for them,

for dark-clouded Zeus, son of Kronos, the one who runs the whole show.

into a glorious spread, just vibing: and among them the godlike bard was going,

Demodocus, the one the people glaze. But Odysseus, that man,

he kept twisting his head towards the blazing sun like a clock-watcher,

itching for it to clock out: because he was dying to get home.

two wine-dark oxen dragged the solid plough through the fallow ground:

for him the daylight punching out is a genuine, deep-bones relief,

finally off to dinner, knees buckling under him as he drags home:

that's how welcome the sunset hit different for Odysseus.

and to Alcinous most of all he laid out his whole piece:

"Alcinous, your majesty, the absolute standout of all your people,

pour one out and send me off safe and sound, and you lot stay blessed.

Because everything my heart was lowkey aching for is sorted now,

flip them into a blessing: may I get home and find my flawless wife

all in one piece, and my dear people safe and chilling.

And you, staying parked here, keep bringing the joy to your wedded

wives and your kids: and may the gods hand you every kind

That's what he said, and they all hyped it up and called

to send the guest off, since he'd spoken exactly the way you should.

And then Alcinous, that royal force, turned to his herald:

"Pontonous, mix up a bowl of wine and pass it round the room

and send the guest off back to his own homeland."

That's what he said, and Pontonous mixed up the honey-sweet wine,

and served everyone right where they stood: and they poured one out

for the deathless gods, the blessed ones who hold the wide sky,

and into Arete's hands he placed the double-handled cup

and found his voice and hit her with these winged words:

"Be blessed for me, my queen, all the way through, until old age

rolls up and death too, the stuff that comes for every single one of us.

with your kids and your people and king Alcinous, full thriving."

Saying this, Odysseus, that goat, stepped clean over the threshold.

And alongside him Alcinous, that royal force, fired off a herald

to lead the way down to the fast ship and the seashore.

one holding a freshly washed cloak and a tunic in her arms,

and she sent another one to carry the sturdy chest:

and another one was hauling the food and the red wine.

But once they'd gone all the way down to the ship and the sea,

in the hollow ship, the drink and every last bit of food:

and for Odysseus they spread out a rug and a smooth linen sheet

on the deck of the hollow ship, right back at the stern,

so he could crash dead to the world: and he climbed up and lay down

all neat and tidy, and slipped the cable off the drilled stone.

Then leaning back hard they were flinging up the brine with the blades,

and a sweet sleep came dropping down right onto his eyelids,

a deep one, the sweetest there is, basically the literal twin of death.

all of them surging off as one under the crack of the whip,

rearing up high and rapidly eating up the road,

that's exactly how her stern reared up, and behind her the wave,

purple and massive, kept boiling up off the roaring sea, big-time.

a falcon, the fastest flier going, could keep pace with her, no chance:

that's how she ran light and quick, slicing the swells clean,

carrying a man whose mind was honestly basically god-level,

the one who'd eaten so much pain deep down in his chest,

and now he slept calm, the whole lot wiped clean from his memory.

The second the brightest star climbed up, the one that mostly

rolls in announcing the light of early-born Dawn,

right then the sea-crossing ship pulled up close to the island.

in the land of Ithaca: and two jutting headlands sit inside it,

sheer ones, hunkered down low towards the harbour mouth,

that block off the big swell from the rough-blowing winds

on the outside: and inside, with zero need for a mooring line,

And right at the head of the harbour stands a long-leafed olive,

and close beside it a lovely cave all wrapped up in mist,

sacred to the Nymphs, the ones they go ahead and call the Naiads.

Inside there are mixing bowls and two-handled jars in there,

And there are long stone looms in there, where the Nymphs

weave their sea-purple cloths, an absolute wonder to clock:

and there's water that never once runs dry. The cave has two doors,

the ones facing the north wind, the way down for us mortals,

ever come through there, nah, it's strictly the immortals' road.

That's where they rowed in, since they'd clocked the spot before. Then she,

the ship, ran herself aground on dry land up to half her length,

charging in hard: that's how heavy the crew's hands had been driving her.

and first thing they lifted Odysseus up out of the hollow ship,

rug and gleaming linen sheet and the whole bundle and all,

and laid him down on the sand, still knocked out cold by sleep,

and they hauled out the treasure, the haul the noble Phaeacians

And they stacked it all in one heap beside the foot of the olive,

back off the road, in case some traveller passing through

came along and nicked it before Odysseus even woke up:

then they themselves turned and rolled back home. But the earth-shaker,

at godlike Odysseus, so he ran it by Zeus and pulled up his plan:

"Father Zeus, no way am I getting respected anymore, not me,

among the immortal gods, not when mortals throw me zero respect,

the Phaeacians, who literally come straight out of my own bloodline.

would make it home: I never fully cancelled his comeback,

not for a second, since you'd promised it first and nodded it through:

but these guys ferried him asleep across the sea in the fast ship

and dropped him off in Ithaca, and loaded him with glorious gifts,

way more than Odysseus would ever have hauled out of Troy,

even if he'd come home safe with his fair cut of the loot."

Then Zeus the cloud-gatherer hit him back with this answer:

"Oh come off it, mighty earth-shaker, the take you just dropped on me.

to start throwing shade at the oldest and the best of us all.

And if any mortal, caving to his own muscle and force,

shows you no respect, you've always got payback waiting down the line.

Do whatever you want, whatever's a vibe to your own heart."

"I'd do it this exact second, dark-cloud one, just like you're saying:

but I'm forever wary of your mood and I steer way clear of it.

Right now I want to total that gorgeous Phaeacian ship

as it rolls back from the escort across the misty sea,

people about: and to wall their whole city in behind a massive mountain."

Then Zeus the cloud-gatherer hit him back with this answer:

"My guy, here's what's looking absolute best to my own heart:

the moment all the people are out watching her get driven in,

keeping the shape of the fast ship, so everyone just gawps,

all of them: and wall their whole city in behind a massive mountain."

But the second Poseidon, the earth-shaker, caught that,

he took off for Scheria, where the Phaeacians live.

racing in hard. And the earth-shaker rolled up on her,

turned her to stone and rooted her down deep underneath

with one flat-handed slap: then he was off and ghosted.

And they started trading winged words back and forth with each other,

And one of them looked dead at the next guy and went:

"Oh no, who's gone and chained our fast ship out there in the sea

while it was racing home? The whole thing was right there in plain view."

That's what one of them kept saying: no clue how it all went down.

"Oh man, my father's ancient prophecies are landing

on me for real, every word, the ones where he said Poseidon would get heated

at us, because we're flawless escorts for absolutely everybody.

He said one day Poseidon would total a gorgeous ship

and wall our whole city in behind a massive mountain.

That's exactly what the old man said: and now it's all coming true.

But come on, let's all of us do precisely what I'm about to say:

quit escorting mortals, every time somebody pulls up

twelve hand-picked bulls, in case he takes some pity on us

and doesn't go wall our whole city in behind some endless mountain."

That's what he said, and they got scared and prepped the bulls.

So they were praying hard to lord Poseidon, that's what they did,

standing round the altar. Then Odysseus, that goat, finally woke up,

asleep in his own fatherland, and ngl he didn't even clock it,

gone too long: because a god had poured mist all around him,

Pallas Athena, Zeus's daughter, so she could make the man

so his wife wouldn't clock him first, plus the townsfolk and the homies,

before the suitors paid the full bill for all their line-crossing.

That's exactly why everything looked off to the king,

the long winding paths and the harbours fit for any ship

He sprang up and stood and stared out at his fatherland,

then he let out a groan and slapped both his thighs

with his flat hands, and wailing it out loud he said:

"Oh no, whose land have I rolled up to this time, for real?

or are they kind to guests, with hearts that lowkey fear the gods?

Where do I even haul all this treasure? And where do I myself

go wandering off to now? Honestly I wish I'd just stayed parked

with the Phaeacians: I could've reached some other mighty king

But as it stands I don't even know where to stash this stuff, and I'm not

leaving it here either, in case it ends up as somebody else's prize.

Oh come on, so they weren't all clued in or fair after all,

the leaders and the rulers of the Phaeacians,

they'd bring me to Ithaca, the one you can spot from miles off, and they fumbled it.

May Zeus, who guards the suppliant, run up the bill on them, the one who watches

over all people too and collects on whoever steps over the line.

But come on, let me count this treasure up and check it over,

Saying this, he started counting up the gorgeous tripods

and the cauldrons and the gold and the lovely woven clothes.

And not one single thing was missing from any of it: but he kept crying for his fatherland,

dragging himself along the shore of the roaring sea,

in the shape of a young man, a herder of sheep,

totally soft-handed, the kind that royal sons turn out to be,

with a well-made double cloak draped round his shoulders:

and on his oiled-up feet he had sandals, in his hand a spear.

and found his voice and hit him with these winged words:

"Hey friend, since you're the first soul I've run into in this place,

be well, and please don't roll up at me with any bad intentions,

but keep this stuff safe, and keep me safe too: because to you

And tell me this one straight, so I get the full picture:

what land, what people, what kind of men are born around here?

Is this some clear-skied island, or is it a stretch of coast

of some fertile mainland leaning down towards the sea?"

"You're an absolute NPC, stranger, or you've come from way, way off,

if you're seriously out here asking about this land. It's honestly not

that nameless: loads and loads of people know it cold,

both all the ones who live out towards the dawn and the sun,

Sure, it's rugged and not the type you'd drive horses through,

but it's not too rough either, and it's not exactly wide.

Because there's grain on it past counting, and the wine

comes up too: it's always got rain and lush, fresh dew.

of every kind, and the watering spots run year-round, no dry spells.

So that's why, stranger, even Troy heard the name of Ithaca,

which they say sits way, way off from the land of the Achaeans."

That's what she said, and Odysseus, that goat who's been through it, was buzzing,

laid it all out for him, Zeus's daughter, the one who carries the aegis:

and he found his voice and hit her with these winged words,

but he didn't tell the truth, nah, he reeled the whole story back in,

forever working that scheming, profit-minded brain inside his chest:

miles off across the sea: and now I've pulled up here myself

with all this treasure: and I left just as much behind for my kids

when I bolted, since I dropped the dear son of Idomeneus,

Orsilochus the swift-footed, the one who in spacious Crete

because he wanted to rob me of all the loot, the whole haul

from Troy, the stuff I ate so much pain for deep in my chest,

pushing through the wars of men and the brutal waves,

all because I wouldn't kiss up to his father and serve

I struck him down as he came in from the field, with my bronze-tipped spear,

ambushing him near the road with one of my mates posted up:

and a proper pitch-black night had clamped down on the sky, and not a soul

of any people clocked us: I took his life on the total down-low.

right away I went off to a ship and begged the noble Phoenicians,

and handed them a satisfying cut of the loot to seal it:

I asked them to take me on board and drop me off at Pylos

or at noble Elis, where the Epeians hold it down.

hard against their will, and they genuinely weren't trying to scam me.

And knocked off track from there, we pulled up here at night.

We rowed hard into the harbour, and not one of us

spared a single thought for dinner, even though we badly needed it,

That's where a sweet sleep grabbed me, worn down as I was,

and they hauled my treasure out of the hollow ship

and set it down right where I was lying flat on the sand.

Then they went up to well-settled Sidon

That's what he said, and the goddess Athena, eyes glinting, just smiled,

and stroked him with her hand: and she shifted into a woman's form,

gorgeous and tall, the kind who's an absolute pro at lovely handiwork:

and she found her voice and hit him with these winged words:

in any kind of trickery, even if a literal god went up against you.

You menace, you scheme-stuffed mind, never once sick of your tricks, you really weren't

about to drop your cons and your thieving little stories,

not even back on your own soil, the stuff that's bone-deep dear to you.

know the game, seeing as you're the standout best of all mortals

at scheming and talking, and across every god going I'm the famous one

for cunning and clever plays: and you didn't even clock that I'm

Pallas Athena, Zeus's daughter, the one who always

and the one who made you beloved among all the Phaeacians too.

And now here I am again, pulling up to weave a plan with you

and tuck the treasure away, all the haul the noble Phaeacians

gifted you for the trip home, by my plan and my smarts,

in your well-built house: and you've gotta tough it out, even when forced,

and not breathe a word to a single soul, no man, no woman,

nobody, that you've come back from your wandering, but in silence

just eat your pain, taking the rough stuff that men dish out."

"It's rough, goddess, for any mortal who runs into you to clock you,

even a seriously switched-on one: because you take the shape of anything.

But this much I know for a fact, that you used to be kind to me before,

back when we sons of the Achaeans were grinding it out at Troy:

and boarded our ships, and a god scattered the Achaeans,

I never spotted you after that, daughter of Zeus, never once clocked you

climbing aboard my ship to ward any pain off me.

Nah, forever carrying a wrecked heart inside my chest

not till I reached the rich land of the Phaeacian men,

where you hyped me up with your words and walked me to the city yourself.

And now I beg you in your father's name, because honestly I don't reckon

I've actually reached Ithaca, the one you spot from miles off, no, it's some other

saying all this to mess with my head for the bit.

Tell me straight if I've genuinely come back to my dear fatherland."

And then Athena, the goddess, eyes glinting, said right back to him:

"You've always got this exact kind of thinking running in your chest, every time:

because you're considerate and quick-witted and dead level-headed.

Any other man, rolling back home from his wanderings, would be

itching to sprint home and clock his kids and his wife straight off:

but you, you don't even feel like learning or asking a single thing

sitting parked there in your halls, while forever her miserable

nights and days drain away with her pouring out tears.

But me, I never doubted it once, no, deep in my heart I always

knew you'd get home after losing every last one of your crew:

my father's brother, the one who's been nursing a grudge against you in his chest,

fuming because you knocked the light clean out of his beloved son.

But come on, let me show you Ithaca's ground, so you'll finally believe me:

this right here is the harbour of Phorcys, the old man of the sea,

and close beside it the lovely cave all wrapped up in mist,

sacred to the Nymphs, the ones they go and call the Naiads:

this is the wide vaulted cave where you used to make

loads of perfect offerings to the Nymphs, full hecatombs and all:

Saying this, the goddess scattered the mist, and the land showed up clear:

and then Odysseus, that goat who's been through it, was buzzing,

glad about his own land, and he kissed the grain-giving earth.

And right away he prayed to the Nymphs, hands flung up high:

I'd lay eyes on you again: but now be glad of my gentle

prayers: and on top of that we'll bring gifts, like we used to before,

if Zeus's daughter who drives the plunder graciously lets me

keep on living and lets my dear son grow up strong and tall."

"Chin up, don't let this stuff sit heavy on your mind at all:

nah, the treasure, let's tuck it deep in the back of the wondrous cave

right now, this exact second, so it stays safe and sound for you:

and then we ourselves can scheme out how this lands the absolute best."

feeling out all the nooks through it: and meanwhile Odysseus

hauled it all in close, the gold and the unbreakable bronze

and the well-made clothes, the stuff the Phaeacians gave him.

And he stowed it all away proper, and Pallas Athena set a stone

Then the two of them sat down beside the foot of the sacred olive

and started scheming out death for the over-the-top suitors.

And Athena, the goddess, eyes glinting, kicked off the talk:

"Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus, always cooking up something,

the ones who've been lording it round your halls for three years straight now,

courting your godlike wife and handing over bride-gifts:

and she, forever mourning your comeback deep down in her heart,

keeps every one of them hoping and makes promises to each man,

And answering her, big-brain Odysseus said straight back:

"Oh man, I really was on track to die a grim death

in my own halls, the same nasty fate as Agamemnon, son of Atreus,

if you, goddess, hadn't laid it all out for me the right way.

and stand right beside me, dropping bold fearless force in me,

the exact same as back when we untied Troy's gleaming crown.

If you'd stand by me locked in like that, eyes glinting one,

I'd take on three hundred men in a straight-up fight,

And then Athena, the goddess, eyes glinting, said right back to him:

"Oh trust, I'll be right there beside you, you won't miss me,

the moment we get down to this work: and I reckon some of them,

the suitor men who keep devouring your livelihood for free,

But come on, let me make you unrecognisable to every mortal going:

I'll wrinkle up the lovely skin on your supple limbs,

strip the blond hair clean off your head, and throw a ragged cloak

round you, the kind that'd put a person off the second they clocked you in it,

so you look like an absolute wreck to all the suitors

and to your wife and the son you left behind in your halls.

And you yourself, first thing of all, head straight to the swineherd,

the one who's the guard over your pigs, and he's loyal to you all the same,

You'll find him posted up with the pigs: and they're out grazing

by Raven's Rock and beside the Arethousa spring,

chowing down on tasty acorns and drinking the dark

water, the stuff that fattens up the pigs and gives them rich lard.

while I head off to Sparta, the land of beautiful women,

to call back Telemachus, your dear son, Odysseus:

the one who went to wide-dancing Lacedaemon, to Menelaus,

chasing news of you, to find out if you were still around anywhere."

"So why didn't you tell him yourself, when you know everything in your mind?

Was it so he too could go wandering round and eat pain

on the barren sea, while other men chow down on his livelihood?"

And then Athena, the goddess, eyes glinting, said right back to him:

I escorted him myself, so he'd pick up some solid clout

by going there: nah, he's got zero trouble, he's just sitting easy

in the son of Atreus's house, with endless good stuff laid out beside him.

Sure, some young lads are lying in wait with a black ship,

but I really don't reckon that's happening: sooner the earth will swallow

some of those suitor men who keep devouring your livelihood."

Saying this, Athena tapped him with her wand, just like that.

She wrinkled up the lovely skin on his supple limbs,

she draped the skin of an old, old man,

and dimmed down those eyes that were gorgeous before:

and round him she threw a different sorry rag and a tunic,

torn up, filthy, all grimed over with nasty smoke:

worn bare: and she handed him a staff and a sorry beggar's pouch,

full of holes, and a twisted cord to sling it by.

With the plan fully locked in, the two of them split up: and she then

took off for noble Lacedaemon after Odysseus's son.