Which Translation: The Odyssey

Brian Dawkins

2013 · Free verse

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IntroNotesGlossaryIndexBibliographyMapsIllustrationsGreek textGreek line numbersLine-by-lineBy Iliad translatorComplete
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Biography

Brian Dawkins is a New Zealand-based translator and illustrator.

Dawkins paired his verse translation with original illustrations, aiming to bring Homer’s epic to life visually as well as textually for a contemporary audience.

An obscure, small-press publication, it has received very little critical attention.

Publication History

  • 2013 — Steele Roberts, The Odyssey ★

The proem

1.1–11
Sing to me, Muse, of a man of guile and many guises, who was made to
Wander greatly, after he had sacked the sacred towers of Troy.
He saw many cities of many men, and knew their minds.
Many were the woes he suffered in spirit on the sea
Trying to preserve his life and bring home his comrades.
However he could not save his friends
For they were destroyed by their own folly,
Fools that slaughtered the cattle of Hyperion the Sun God,
Who then denied them a homecoming.
Sing to us of these things and their like, Lady, Daughter of Zeus.

Penelope's weaving trick

2.96–111
‘My young suitors, as Odysseus is dead,
You presume on my marriage, but there is a burial cloth
To complete, so that my poor threads are not wasted.
It is a shroud for Laertes,
When he is laid low by all-encompassing Death.
I would be scorned by all Akhaian women
If he, having great possessions, were buried without a winding cloth.’
Thus she spoke and we, for all our pride, were persuaded.
Then every day she worked the great loom.
Every night by the light of torches set at her side she undid the weaving.
Three years she carried out the deception, and the Akhaians trusted her.
But during the fourth year, at one point One of the women who knew of the deceit spoke
And we discovered her undoing the loom.
She was then compelled to finish the cloth, though unwilling.

Calypso's double standard

5.118–131
“Harsh are you, O Gods, jealous beyond all others.
You begrudge the Goddesses who sleep with mortal men,
With whoever they might take as a loved spouse.
As when Orion was taken by roseate Dawn.
The Gods, living at their ease, resented it,
Until in Ortyghia the chaste Artemis of the Golden Throne
With her subtle but deadly shafts brought him low.
And once with Iasion fair-tressed Demeter
Following her heart lay in love,
In the thrice-turned plough-lands. Nor was it long unknown to Zeus,
Who slew him with a bright thunderbolt.
So now do you resent me, who lies with a mortal man.
One whom I saved clinging to a ship’s keel

Weeping on Calypso's shore

5.151–159
She found him seated on a high headland,
His eyes wet with tears, ever flowing in the bitter-sweet sorrow
Of longing for his return, for he no longer took pleasure from the Goddess.
Indeed the nights he passed confined In the hollow caves, the unwilling by the willing.
By day, sitting on the steep seashore escarpment,
Racked by tears and heartfelt sighs
He scanned the rough surf below, tears coursing his cheeks.

Nausicaa finds Odysseus

6.127–141
He emerged from his bed in the bushes,
Tore off a branch from one of them
And used it to conceal his nakedness.
Now he went confident as a mountain lion in its strength
Braving wind and rain, fire in its eyes
As it comes down on ox or sheep
Or wild deer, driven by hunger
To attack even the domestic flocks.
And so did Odysseus come to approach the fair-tressed maids
Even naked as he was. He came in need,
But his struggle with the sea had made him appear a fearsome sight to them,
And the maids scattered on the high banks.
Only the daughter of Alki-noos stood firm as Athena
Gave her the courage to hold her ground.

War-widow simile

8.521–532
So did the famous minstrel sing, and Odysseus
Was greatly moved, and tears wet his cheeks.
As a woman might weep over a loved husband,
Who has fallen before the people
Defending his town and children.
She sees him dying, gasping for breath
And she wails keenly in anguish. But the foe
Beat at her with spears on back and sides
And drag her off to bondage and great woe.
Most pitifully her cheeks are wasted by sorrow.
So Odysseus wept tears of misery.

Cyclops eats the men

9.287–299
He did not respond, but with evil intent
He sprang up, reached out towards my friends,
Seized two of them and dashed them on the ground like puppies.
Their brains poured out on the earth,
And he tore them apart and prepared a meal.
He devoured like a mountain lion, leaving nothing,
Neither entrails nor flesh nor marrow-bearing bones.
We held up our hands calling to Zeus in supplication
As we watched, unable to do anything.
When he had filled his great belly
With human flesh and had drunk great quantities of milk,
He lay down to sleep in the cave amidst his flocks.

The Nobody trick

9.364–371
‘Kyklops, you have asked for my name and
I shall tell you. Then give me the gift that you promised.
My name is No-one. No-one is the name by which
I am known by my mother and father and friends.’
He replied to me with his terrible voice
‘I will eat No-one last of all his company of men,
After all the others. This will be your hospitality gift.’

Circe recognizes Odysseus

10.325–336
‘Who are you? Whence do you come, what is your lineage?
Before this, anyone who drank the potion was affected.
Never before has anyone resisted its effect
Once they have let it pass their lips.
There must be in you an unconquerable spirit.
Or you are the redoubtable Odysseus, of whose coming
Hermes has long spoken to me as visiting
On his way home in the black ships.
But now put away your sword, and then
Let us take to my bed
That we may enjoy one another in love.’

Anticlea's shade

11.204–215
Thus she spoke and I thought
To take her spectre in my arms.
Three times I tried to clasp her to me
Three times the shade slipped from me,
Flying like a dream. Sharp pain pierced my heart,
And I spoke to her in sorrow.
‘Mother why do you ignore my longing
To put my arms about you,
So we may share the icy sorrow?
Does Perseffona urge upon me your shade
To increase yet further my woe?’

Achilles in the underworld

11.488–501
‘Do not speak to me of Death, Odysseus.
I would rather be a menial to another,
However poor, with but a meagre living,
Than to rule here the throngs of the dead.
But speak to me of my son.
Was he pre-eminent in battle or not?
Speak to me also of Peleos, if you know anything.
Is he still honoured among the Myrmidons
Or is he scorned in Hellas and Ffthias
As age has weakened his limbs?
If only I could be his helper once more
In the light of day, as once I was at Troy
When I slew the best, defending the Argheions,

The Sirens' song

12.184–192
‘Come, come to us, wayfaring Odysseus,
Let the ship stand off, and hear our song.
None has ever passed us by in their black ship
Before hearing the song from our sweet voices.
They learn much in pleasing leisure.
We know all of the happenings in great Troy,
We sing of Argheions, Trojans, Gods, of all.
We know all that happens on the face of the earth.’

Hyperion's cattle

12.341–352
There are many ways death comes to hapless mortals
But the most pitiful is to starve.
Come let us take the very best of the Sun’s cattle
And sacrifice to the Gods in the Heavens.
If we should ever make it home to Ithaka,
We will quickly construct a temple for the Sun God
And put in it many rich offerings.
If angered by the loss of his cattle
He wishes to destroy the ship, and other gods agree,
I prefer to be swallowed by the sea
Than to starve slowly on some lonely island.’

Argos recognizes Odysseus

17.324–328
Having spoken, he entered the great house,
And went straight to the brash crowd of suitors.
Argos though was taken by the dark spirit of Death,
Having seen Odysseus one last time in the twentieth year.

Sleepless Odysseus

20.25–34
So it is, when a man waits by a blazing fire
Where he has placed a stuffed paunch,
Rolling it here and there, eager for it to be roasted.
So Odysseus stirred restlessly
Pondering how he was to confront the suitors,
Being one against many. Athena though was nearby
Come from heaven in the likeness of a woman,
And she stood at his head and spoke.
“Why do you lie awake, unhappiest of mortals?

Stringing the bow

21.404–412
So did they speak. However Odysseus
Lifted the bow, and studied it.
Then as when a skilled minstrel hefts a lyre
And loops a new string onto a peg,
He took a length of well-twisted sheep gut and
Effortlessly fitted it to the great bow at each end.
Taking it in his right hand he tested the string.
It sang sweetly, as sweetly as any swallow.

Odysseus reveals himself

22.1–8
Odysseus stripped off his rags
And leapt onto the threshold with bow and quiver.
He quickly emptied the quiver on the floor at his feet
And then began to address the suitors.
“The contest has now been completed.
Now there is another target, never yet hit by a man,
But I will achieve it if Apollo answers my prayers.”

The disloyal maids

22.465–474
As he spoke he threw a ship’s cable about
A great column of the porch
So high that their feet would not touch the ground.
It was as when long-winged thrushes or pigeons
Are caught in a hedge by a snare in a bush
As they enter their nest, to encounter a welcome of doom.
Thus was it as one by one a snare
Encircled their necks, to die a miserable death.
They gasped twitching their feet but not for long.

The olive-tree bed

23.181–190
In this way she tested her husband.
Odysseus with a heavy heart addressed his wily wife.
“Wife, what you say distresses me greatly.
Who has shifted my bed? That would be difficult
Even for one of great skill. Even a God
Would not easily place it elsewhere.
No mortal alive, however strong,
Would be able to shift it, because of its very nature.
I alone laboured over the building of it.

Shipwrecked sailor simile

23.233–241
It was as the land appears to swimmers
When Poseidon has wrecked their sturdy ship
With smashing winds and waves
And a few escape the grey sea swimming to land.
Stained by the salt-water,
They gratefully clamber onto dry land, fleeing evil.
Thus did she look upon her husband joyfully
As she clasped her arms firmly about his neck.