All deaths are hateful to wretched mortals, but to die by hunger is the most pitiful fate. Come now, let us drive off the best of Helios’s cattle and offer a sacrifice to the immortals who hold the wide heaven. If we ever reach Ithaca, our native land, we will build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion, with many fine gifts inside. But if he grows angry over his horned cattle and wishes to destroy our ship, and the other gods consent, I would rather die once swallowing a wave than waste away slowly here on this deserted isle.’
All kinds of death are horrible to us miserable mortals, but to come to the end by dying of hunger is the most awful. So come now, let’s drive off all the best of Helios’ cattle and offer a sacrifice to those who live there in the vast sky and never have to die. And if we ever reach Ithaka, our native land, at once we’ll build a splendid temple to Hyperion the Sun, and inside, we’ll put many valuable offerings. And if he happens to be a bit angry about his cattle, with their straight horns, and chooses to destroy our ship, and the other gods agree—well, I’d rather lose my life all at once, mouth open, gasping at a wave, than slowly waste away on this desolate island.’
All forms of death that can come to wretched mortals are abhorrent, but to die of starvation and meet one’s doom in that way is the most pitiful. Come on then, let’s round up the best cattle Helios has and use them to hold sacrifices to the immortals who inhabit the wide heavens. And if we ever get back to our native soil on Ithaca, the first thing we’ll do is build a sumptuous temple to Helios Hyperion and fill it up with an abundance of splendid offerings dedicated to him. If he bears any grudge over his long-horned cattle, and wants to destroy our ship on their account, and the rest of the gods go along with him on it, I’d rather come to the end of my life all at once by swallowing a wave than have my life squeezed out in a lingering death on a desert island.’
“Every form of death is vile to us wretched mortals, but the most wretched way to die is by starvation. So, let us cut out the finest of Helios’ cattle, and sacrifice to the gods of the wide heavens. And if we return to Ithaca, our own land, let us build a fine temple to Helios Hyperion, and fill it with precious gifts. And if he is angered at the loss of his long-horned kine and chooses to wreck our ship, the other gods’ agreeing, well for myself I would rather die quickly in the waves, than waste away slowly on a desert island.”
‘Friends, all forms of death are abominable to men, but the worst of them all is to die with empty bellies and dry throats. Now, we can see the fat cattle and sheep around us and have only Odysseus’s word that they belong to the sun god. But what if he is wrong? Eh? What then? Why, we will have sat on this miserable island for a month or two—the last with empty bellies—while relief was only a spear-cast away. Now, I say let’s round them up, all these cattle and sheep, and offer them to the gods all, and just in case these are the cattle of the sun god, why, let’s promise Helios that if we should reach Ithaca safely we will build him a temple in thanks for the food that he has provided. That should soothe his ruffled feelings, I would think. But if he is too angry to take our trade in part, why then, I’d sooner drown in the seas than waste away from hunger. What do you say?’
Any form of death is hateful to poor mortals, but starvation is the most pitiable way to die and meet one’s doom. So come, let us drive off the best of Helios’ cattle and sacrifice them to the immortal gods who hold the wide heaven. And if we do reach our own native land of Ithaka, then we shall immediately build a rich temple to Hyperion the Sun, and we would put many fine offerings in it. But if in anger for his long-horned cattle he determines to destroy our ship, and the other gods go with him, then I would rather lose my life with one big gulp of the sea than be slowly worn to nothing here in this deserted island.”
All forms of death are hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger, and so meet one’s doom, is the most pitiful. Instead, come, let us drive off the best of the cattle of Helios and offer sacrifice to the immortals who hold broad heaven. And if we ever reach Ithaca, our native land, we will at once build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion and put in it many choice offerings. And if perchance he be at all angry because of his straight-horned cattle, and wish to destroy our ship, and the other gods consent, I would rather lose my life once for all with a gulp at the wave, than pine slowly away in a desert island.’
All deaths are hateful to poor mortals, but the most pitiful is to meet your fate by dying of hunger. So come, let us drive off the best of the Sun’s cattle, and sacrifice to the immortal gods who hold the broad sky. If we should arrive at Ithaca, our home land, we may at once build a rich temple to Hyperion the Sun, and put in it many excellent ornaments. If he is at all angry about the cattle with their upright horns, and wants to destroy our ship, and the other gods go along with him, I prefer to lose my life with one swallow at the waves than be worn down over a long time on a desert islad.’
To us wretched men all forms of death are abominable, but death by starvation is the most miserable way to meet one’s doom. So come, let us round up the best of the Sun’s cows and sacrifice them in honour of the immortals who live in the broad sky. If ever we reach our homeland in Ithaca, our first act will be to build Hyperion the Sun-god a magnificent temple and fill it with precious offerings. But if in anger at the loss of his straight-horned herds he chooses to wreck our ship, with the support of the other gods, I would sooner drown instantly in a watery grave than waste away by slow degrees on a desert island.”
Every form of death is loathsome to wretched mortals, but to perish of hunger, to starve to death – that is the most pitiful thing of all. Enough! Let us carry off the best of the sun-god’s cattle and give them in sacrifice to the Deathless Ones whose home is wide heaven. And if ever we should return again to our own land, Ithaca, we will hasten to build a sumptuous temple to Hyperion the sun-god, and there we may place fine offerings in plenty. But if in anger over his long-horned cattle he resolves to wreck our ship and the other gods second him – why, then, I would rather drink the brine and lose life at one gulp than waste away by inches in this forsaken island.”
Every manner of death is loathsome to wretched mortals, but to die and meet one’s fate by starvation is the most pitiable of all. So come, let us round up the best of the cattle of Helios and make a sacrifice to the deathless gods who hold the wide heaven. And if it be that we shall reach Ithaca, our native land, we will erect at once a costly shrine to Helios, son of Hyperion, and enrich it with many choice offerings. But if he, angry because of his straight-horned cattle, shall decide to destroy our ship and if the other gods should concur, I prefer to lose my life all at once, gaping open-mouthed at a wave, than have it gradually drained away on a deserted island.’
To us wretched men all forms of death are abominable, but death by starvation is the most miserable end that one can meet. So I suggest that we round up the best of the Sun’s cows and slaughter them in honour of the immortals who live in the broad sky. If ever we reach our homeland in Ithaca, our first act shall be to build Hyperion the Sun-god a rich temple and fill it with precious offerings. If, on the other hand, he shows annoyance at this treatment of his straight-horned herds and chooses to wreck our ship, with the other gods to back him, I would sooner make one gulp at the sea and give up the ghost than be pinched to death by slow degrees upon a desert isle.”
All deaths are hateful to miserable mortals, but the most pitiable death of all is to starve. Come along, let us drive off the best of these cattle, and sacrifice them to the immortal gods who rule the broad heavens. If we ever return home to Ithaca, we will build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion, and set up there many handsome offerings; but if the god is angry about his straighthorns, and wants to destroy our ship, and if the other gods agree, I choose rather to die once with a mouthful of salt water than to be slowly squeezed out in a desert island.’
No variety of death is pleasing to us poor mortals: but commend me to hunger and its slow perishing as the meanest fate of all. Up therefore; let us take our pick of the Sun’s cattle and dedicate them in death to all the Gods of heaven. If ever we do reach Ithaca, our own, there can we quickly erect some splendid fane for Helios Hyperion and fill it with every precious gift. But if he is angered enough by the loss of his high-horned cattle to want the ruin of our ship, and if the other Gods cry yea to him—why then, I choose to quit life with one gulp in the sea rather than waste to death here by inches in this desert island.’
To wretched mortals any death is hateful; but to die and meet one’s doom by hunger is most pitiful of all. So come, let us drive here the Sun’s best kine and sacrifice them to the gods who hold wide heaven. If we ever reach our native Ithaca, we will at once built a rich temple to Hyperion Helios, and in it place many a splendid offering. But if in anger because of his high-horned cattle, he wants to destroy our ship, and the other gods consent, I for my part would rather, with one gulp at a wave, lose my life, than be worn out by a long stay on this desert island.’
Every manner of death is painful to us timid mortals, but the most miserable is to meet the doom of death through hunger. But come, let us give chase to the finest of the cattle of Helios, and make sacrifice to the gods who dwell in the wide heavens. Should we return to Ithaca, our country, we will straightway build a rich temple to Helios, in which we may put many a choice offering. But should he, in wrath at the loss of his straight-horned cattle, be pleased to wreck our ship with the aid of the other gods, I would rather lose my life at one gasp under the wave than slowly waste away in this lone island.’
All deaths are hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger and meet one’s doom is most piteous. Nay, come, let us drive off the best of the cattle of Helios, and sacrifice them to the immortals who hold broad heaven. And if we ever reach Ithaca, our native land, straightway will we build a rich temple to Helios Hyperion, and set therein many goodly offerings. But if he be wroth for his high-horned cattle, and be minded to destroy us, and the other gods join with him, I would rather at once gulp down the wave and lose my life, than waste away on a desert isle.”
All deaths are bad enough but there is none so bad as famine. Why should not we drive in the best of these cows and offer them in sacrifice to the immortal gods? If we ever get back to Ithaca, we can build a fine temple to the sun-god and enrich it with every kind of ornament; if, however, he is determined to sink our ship out of revenge for these horned cattle, and the other gods are of the same mind, I for one would rather drink salt water once for all and have done with it, than be starved to death by inches in such a desert island as this is.’
Hateful is every form of death to wretched mortals; and yet to die by hunger, and so to meet one’s doom, is the most pitiful of all. Come then, and let us drive away the best of the Sun’s cattle, and sacrifice them to the immortals who hold the open sky. And if we ever come to Ithaca, our native land, we will at once build a rich temple to the exalted Sun, and put therein many fair offerings. If then the Sun, wroth for his high-horned cattle, seeks to destroy our ship, and other gods consent, for my part I would rather, open-mouthed in the sea, give up my life at once than slowly let it wear away here in this desert island.’
Truly every shape of death is hateful to wretched mortals, but to die of hunger and so meet doom is most pitiful of all. Nay come, we will drive off the best of the kine of Helios and will do sacrifice to the deathless gods who keep wide heaven. And if we may yet reach Ithaca, our own country, forthwith will we rear a rich shrine to Helios Hyperion, and therein would we set many a choice offering. But if he be somewhat wroth for his cattle with straight horns, and is fain to wreck our ship, and the other gods follow his desire, rather with one gulp at the wave would I cast my life away, than be slowly straitened to death in a desert isle.’
all deaths are hateful to wretched mortals; but it is most miserable to die and draw on one’s fate through hunger. But come, having driven away the best of the oxen of the sun, we will sacrifice to the immortals who possess the wide heaven. But if we come to Ithaca, our paternal land, we will immediately build a rich temple to the sun, who travels above, where we may place many and noble images. But if, being at all enraged on account of the straight-horned oxen, he should wish to destroy our ship, and the other gods assent [lit. follow], once for all I would wish to lose my life, gasping in the wave, rather than to waste away any longer, being in a desert island.”
παντες μεν θανατοι all deaths στυγεροι [are] hateful δειλοισι βροτοισι to miserable mortals, θανεειν δε but to die και and επισπειν to seek out ποτμον fate λιμος by hunger οικτιστον [is] the saddest. Αλλ’ αγετε but come, ελασαντες having driven away αριστας the best βοων of the oxen Ηελιοιο of the sun, ρεξομεν we will sacrifice αθανατοισι to the immortals, τοι who εχουσιν inhabit ουρανον ευρυν wide heaven. Ει δε and if αφικοιμεθα κε we arrive εις Ιθακην at Ithaca, πατριδα γαιαν our paternal land, αιψα κεν τευξομεν we will immediately build πιονα νηον a rich temple Ηελιω ‘Υπεριονι to the sun that walks above, ενθα where θειμεν κε we may place αγαλματα images πολλα many και and εσθλα precious: ει δε but if χολωσαμενος wrathful τις at all βοων ορθοκραιρων on account of the high-horned oxen, εθελη he wills ολεσαι to destroy νηα the ship, θεοι δ’ αλλοι και the other gods επι εσονται assent, βουλομαι I wish απαξ once for all απολεσαι to lose θυμον life χανων gasping προς κυμα at the wave, η [rather] than δηθα longer στρευγεσθαι to waste away, εων being εν νησω ερημω in a desert island.”
all deaths are hateful to wretched mortals; but, through hunger, it is most miserable to die and draw on one’s fate. But come, having driven away the best of the oxen of the Sun, we will sacrifice to the immortals who possess the wide heaven. But if we come to Ithaca, our father-land, we will immediately build a rich temple to the Sun, who journeys on high, where we may place many and excellent images. But if by any means wrathful on account of the straight-horned oxen, he should wish to destroy our ship, and the other gods follow, I had rather at once lose my life gaping in the wave, than waste away any longer, remaining on a desert island.’
all deaths are hateful to wretched mortals; but it is most miserable to die and draw on one’s fate through hunger. But come, having driven away the best of the oxen of the Sun, we will sacrifice to the immortals who possess the wide heaven. But if we come to Ithaca, our paternal land, we will immediately build a rich temple to the Sun who journeys above, where we may place many and excellent images. But if by any means angry for
the straight-horned oxen, he should wish to de-
stroy our ship, and the other Gods follow, I
had rather at once lose my life gaping in the
wave, than waste away any longer, remaining
in a desert island.”