Sing to me, Muse, of the man of many paths, the wanderer, who roamed far after laying waste to Troy’s sacred heights. He saw the cities of countless men, learned their minds, and endured deep pain at sea, all in his struggle to survive and to bring his crew back home. But even so, he could not save them. Though he longed to, their own blind folly destroyed them-fools who ate the cattle of the Sun God, Helios, and so robbed themselves of the day of their return.
Tell us this tale, goddess, daughter of Zeus.
Tell me, Muse, of a man who was always shifting, drifting, driven about so far and wide, after he burned and looted Troy, the holy city. He saw many peoples’ towns, and came to see their views, and in his heart he suffered many agonies on the sea, struggling for his own life and for his crew’s return. But he did not bring them back, despite how much he wanted to. They perished, through their own recklessness—the fools. They feasted on the cattle of Hyperion the Sun, and he took away the day of their return. Of all this, beginning at any point, Goddess, Daughter of Zeus, tell us once again.
A man, resourceful but forced into so many wanderings from the time he sacked the sacred stronghold of Troy—sing me his story, Muse. There were many people whose towns he saw, whose minds he took the measure of, and many miseries he suffered at sea, sick at heart, while trying to earn his own life and a way home for his shipmates. But there was no saving those shipmates, determined as he was; they were undone by their own reckless acts. With no more sense than infants they fell on the cattle of the sun god Hyperion and ate them. The god robbed them of the day—their day of homecoming. Start anywhere, goddess, daughter of Zeus, and tell the story again for us.
Tell me, Muse, of that man of many resources, who wandered far and wide, after sacking the holy citadel of Troy. Many the men whose cities he saw, whose ways he learned. Many the sorrows he suffered at sea, while trying to bring himself and his friends back alive. Yet despite his wishes he failed to save them, because of their own un-wisdom, foolishly eating the cattle of Helios, the Sun, so the god denied them their return. Tell us of these things, beginning where you will, Goddess, Daughter of Zeus.
Sing to me the story of that
Wanderer who sacked Troy and sundered her
Heaven-built walls, only to be forced to roam
Uncharted seas and visit strange lands
Where he faced many grueling trials.
Sing to me of his great adventures among nations
Of all manners, minds, fashions, and traditions.
Sing to me of a man, abandoned by the gods
After his men slew the sun god’s sacred cattle,
Who still proves himself worthy of song and story.
Sing, O Muse, of him in his glory.
Muse, tell me of a man: a man of much resource, who was made to wander far and long, after he had sacked the sacred city of Troy. Many were the men whose lands he saw and came to know their thinking: many too the miseries at sea which he suffered in his heart, as he sought to win his own life and the safe return of his companions. But even so, for all his efforts, he could not save his companions. They perished through their own arrant folly – the fools, they ate the cattle of Hyperion the Sun, and he took away the day of their return.
Tell me, Muse, of the man of many devices, driven far astray after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many were the men whose cities he saw and whose minds he learned, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the sea, seeking to win his own life and the return of his comrades. Yet even so he did not save his comrades, for all his desire, for through their own blind folly they perished—fools, who devoured the cattle of Helios Hyperion; whereupon he took from them the day of their returning. Of these things, goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where you will, tell us in our turn.
Tell me, Muse, of the versatile man who was driven off course many times after he had sacked the holy citadel of Troy. Many were the peoples whose cities he saw, and whose minds he got to know; and at sea many were the pains he felt in his heart as he tried to secure his own life and his comrades’ return home. Even so he did not save them, much as he wanted to. Instead they perished through their own outrageous behaviour, foolish men who ate up the cattle of Hyperion the Sun; and he took from them the day of their homecoming. From some point or other, goddes, daughter of Zeus, tell us too about these things.
Tell me, Muse, the story of that resourceful man who was driven to wander far and wide after he had sacked the holy citadel of Troy. He saw the cities of many people and he learnt their ways. He suffered great anguish on the high seas in his struggles to preserve his life and bring his comrades home. But he failed to save those comrades, in spite of all his efforts. It was their own transgression that brought them to their doom, for in their folly they devoured the oxen of Hyperion the Sun-god and he saw to it that they would never return. Tell us this story, goddess daughter of Zeus, beginning at whatever point you will.
Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero.
This was the man of wide-ranging spirit who had sacked the sacred town of Troy and who wandered afterwards long and far. Many were those whose cities he viewed and whose minds he came to know, many the troubles that vexed his heart as he sailed the seas, labouring to save himself and to bring his comrades home. But his comrades he could not keep from ruin, strive as he might; they perished instead by their own presumptuousness. Fools, they devoured the cattle of Hyperion, and he, the sun-god, cut off from them the day of their homecoming.
Goddess, daughter of Zeus, to me in turn impart some knowledge of all these things, beginning where you will.
Recall for me, Muse, the toils of that man so ready of wit in every need, who wandered far and wide after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. He chanced upon the towns of many men, whose ways of life and thought he also learned, while enduring many woes within his heart as he struggled on the deep to save his life and win a safe return home for his comrades. Yet, even so, he did not save his comrades, though much he yearned to do so. For through the wicked folly of their own hearts they perished, fools that they were to devour the cattle of the sun-god Helios, son of Hyperion. The god therefore took from them the day for their return. Begin at some point, goddess, daughter of Zeus, and tell us of these exploits.
The hero of the tale which I beg the Muse to help me tell is that resourceful man who roamed the wide world after he had sacked the holy citadel of Troy. He saw the cities of many peoples and he learnt their ways. He suffered many hardships on the high seas in his struggles to preserve his life and bring his comrades home. But he failed to save those comrades, in spite of all his efforts. It was their own sin that brought them to their doom, for in their folly they devoured the oxen of Hyperion the Sun, and the god saw to it that they should never return. This is the tale I pray the divine Muse to unfold to us. Begin it, goddess, at whatever point you will.
This is the story of a man, one who was never at a loss. He had travelled far in the world, after the sack of Troy, the virgin fortress; he saw many cities of men, and learnt their mind; he endured many troubles and hardships in the struggle to save his own life and to bring back his men safe to their homes. He did his best, but he could not save his companions. For they perished by their own madness, because they killed and ate the cattle of Hyperion the Sun-god, and the god took care that they should never see home again.
O divine poesy
Goddess-daughter of Zeus
Sustain for me
This song of the various-minded man
Who after he had plundered
The innermost citadel of hallowed Troy
Was made to stray grievously
About the coasts of men
The sport of their customs good or bad
While his heart through all the sea-faring
Ached in an agony to redeem himself
And bring his company safe home
Vain hope—for them
For his fellows he strove in vain
Their own witlessness cast them away
The fools
To destroy for meat
The oxen of the most exalted sun
Wherefore the sun-god blotted out
The day of their return
Make the tale live for us
In all its many bearings
O Muse
Tell me, O Muse, of that clever hero who wandered far after capturing the sacred city of Troy. For he saw the towns and learned the ways of many peoples. Many hardships too he suffered on the sea while struggling for his own life and for the safe return of his men. Yet all his zeal did not save his companions. They perished through their own rashness—the fools!—because they ate the cattle of the Sun, and he therefore kept them from returning home. Tell us also of this, O goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where you will.
Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many were they whose cities he saw and whose manners he learnt, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the sea, seeking to win his own life and the return of his comrades. Yet even so he saved not his comrades, though he desired it sore, for through their own blind folly they perished—fools, who devoured the kine of Helios Hyperion; but he took from them the day of their returning. Of these things, goddess, daughter of Zeus, beginning where thou wilt, tell thou even unto us.
Tell me, O Muse, of that ingenious hero who travelled far and wide after he had sacked the famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, and many were the nations with whose manners and customs he was acquainted; moreover he suffered much by sea while trying to save his own life and bring his men safely home; but do what he might he could not save his men, for they perished through their own sheer folly in eating the cattle of the Sun-god Hyperion; so the god prevented them from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about all these things, oh daughter of Jove, from whatsoever source you may know them.
Tell of the storm-tossed man, O Muse, who wandered long after he sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many the men whose towns he saw, whose ways he proved; and many a pang he bore in his own breast at sea, while struggling for his life and his men’s safe return. Yet even so, despite his zeal, he did not save his men; for through their own perversity they perished, having recklessly devoured the cattle of the exalted Sun, who therefore took away the day of their return. Of this, O goddess, daughter of Zeus, speak as thou wilt to us.
Tell me, Muse, of that man, so ready at need, who wandered far and wide, after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy, and many were the men whose towns he saw and whose mind he learnt, yea, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the deep, striving to win his own life and the return of his company. Nay, but even so he saved not his company, though he desired it sore. For through the blindness of their own hearts they perished, fools, who devoured the oxen of Helios Hyperion: but the god took from them their day of returning. Of these things, goddess, daughter of Zeus, whencesoever thou hast heard thereof, declare thou even unto us.
O Muse! inspire me to tell of [lit. tell me of] the man, skilful in expedients, who wandered very much after he had brought to destruction the sacred city of Troy, and saw the cities of many men, and became acquainted with their dispositions. And he, indeed, on the deep, endured in his mind many sufferings, whilst endeavouring to secure his own life and the return of his companions; but not even thus, although anxious, did he save his companions: for they perished by their own infatuation; foolish [men that they were], who did eat up the oxen of the Sun who journeys above; but he deprived them of their return [lit. the day of return]. Of these events, arising from whatever cause, O goddess! daughter of Jove, inform us also.
Εννεπε declare μοι to me, Μουσα Muse, ανδρα the man πολυτροπον of many fortunes, ὅς who πλαγχθη wandered μαλα πολλα very much, επει when επερσεν he had destroyed ἱερον πτολιεθρον the sacred city Τροιης of Troy: ἰδε δε and saw αστεα towns και and εγνω learnt νοον the mood πολλων ανθρωπων of many men, πολλα δε αλγεα but many sorrows ὀγε he indeed παθε suffered ὀν κατα θυμον in his soul, αρνυμενος whilst grasping ἠν τε ψυχην both his own life και and νοστον the return ἑταιρων of his companions. Αλλα but ουδε not even ὡς thus ερρυσατο did he save ἑταρους his companions, ἱεμενος περ though bent upon it: ὀλοντο γαρ for they perished σφετερησιν ατασθαλιησι by their own phrensies, νηπιοι fools, οἱ who κατα ησθιον ate up βους the oxen ‘Ηελιοιο of the Sun ‘Υπεριρονος who rolls above us: αυταρ but ὁ he αφειλετο took away τοισσ from them νοστιμον ημαρ the day of their return των of these things αμοθεν γε from whatever source, θεα O goddess, θυγατερ daughter Διος of Jupiter, ειπε tell και ημιν to us also.
O Muse, sing to me of the man full of resources, who wandered very much after he had destroyed the sacred city of Troy, and saw the cities of many men, and learned their manners. Many griefs also in his mind did he suffer on the sea, although seeking to preserve his own life, and the return of his companions; but not even thus, although anxious, did he extricate his companions: for they perished by their own infatuation, fools! who devoured the oxen of the Sun who journeys on high; but he deprived them of their return. O goddess, daughter of Jove, relate to us also some of these things.
O Muse, inspire me to tell of the crafty man, who wandered very much after he had brought to destruction the sacred city of Troy, and saw the cities of many men, and became acquainted with their disposition. He suffered many griefs in his mind on the sea, to preserve his own life, and to obtain a return for his companions; but not even thus, although anxious, did he save his companions: for they perished by their own wickedness, fools! who consumed the cattle of the Sun who journeys above; but he deprived them of their return. O Goddess daughter of Jove relate even to us some of these things at least.