The OdysseyFagles translationbook 9.docx

The OdysseyFagles translationbook 9.docx

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TheOdysseyFaglestranslationbook9

BookIX

IntheOne-EyedGiant’sCave（独眼巨人的洞穴）

Odysseus（奥德修斯曾指挥特洛伊战争，献木马计，使希腊获胜）,thegreattelleroftales故事,launchedoutonhisstory:

“Alcinous阿尔喀诺俄斯,majesty威严,shiningamongyourislandpeople,

whatafinethingitistolistentosuchabard吟游诗人

aswehavehere—themansingslikeagod.

Thecrownoflife,I’dsay.There’snothingbetter

thanwhendeepjoyholdsswaythroughouttherealm

andbanquetersupanddownthepalacesitinranks,

enthralledtohearthebard,andbeforethemall,thetables

heapedwithbreadandmeats,anddrawingwinefromamixing-bowl

thestewardmakeshisroundsandkeepsthewinecupsflowing.

This,tomymind,isthebestthatlifecanoffer.

Butnow

you’resetonprobingthebitterpainsI’veborne,

soI’mtoweepandgrieve,itseems,stillmore.

Wellthen,whatshallIgothroughfirst,

whatshallIsaveforlast?

Whatpains—thegodshavegivenmemyshare.

Nowletmebeginbytellingyoumyname…

soyoumayknowitwellandIintimestocome,

ifIcanescapethefatalday,willbeyourhost,

yourswornfriend,thoughmyhomeisfarfromhere.

IamOdysseus,sonofLaertes,knowntotheworld

foreverykindofcraft—myfamehasreachedtheskies.

SunnyIthacaismyhome.Atopherstandsourseamark,

MountNeriton’sleafyridgesshimmeringinthewind.

Aroundheraringofislandscircleside-by-side,

Dulichion,Same,woodedZacynthustoo,butmine

lieslowandaway,thefarthestouttosea,

rearingintothewesterndusk

whiletheothersfacetheeastandbreakingday.

Mineisaruggedlandbutgoodforraisingsons—

andImyself,Iknownosweetersightonearth

thanaman’sownnativecountry.

Trueenough,

Calypsothelustrousgoddesstriedtoholdmeback,

deepinherarchingcaverns,cravingmeforahusband.

SodidCirce,holdingmejustaswarmlyinherhalls,

thebewitchingqueenofAeaeakeentohavemetoo.

Buttheyneverwontheheartinsideme,never.

Sonothingisassweetasaman’sowncountry,

hisownparents,eventhoughhe’ssettleddown

insomeluxurioushouse,offinaforeignland

andfarfromthosewhoborehim.

Nomore.Come,

letmetellyouaboutthevoyagefraughtwithhardship

Zeusinflictedonme,homewardboundfromTroy…

ThewinddrovemeoutofIliumontoIsmarus,

theCicones’stronghold.ThereIsackedthecity,

killedthemen,butasforthewivesandplunder,

thatrichhaulwedraggedawayfromtheplace—

weshareditroundsonoone,notonmyaccount,

wouldgodeprivedofhisfairshareofspoils.

ThenIurgedthemtocutandrun,setsail,

butwouldtheylisten?

Notthosemutinousfools;

therewastoomuchwinetoswill,toomanysheeptoslaughter

downalongthebeach,andshamblinglonghorncattle.

AndallthewhiletheCiconessoughtoutotherCicones,

calledforhelpfromtheirneighborslivinginland:

alargerforce,andstrongersoldierstoo,

skilledhandsatfightingmenfromchariots,

skilled,whenacrisisbroke,tofightonfoot.

Outofthemorningmisttheycameagainstus—

packedastheleavesandspearsthatflowerforthinspring—

andZeuspresenteduswithdisaster,meandmycomrades

doomedtosufferblowonmortalblow.Liningup,

botharmiesbattleditoutagainstourswiftships,

bothrakedeachotherwithhurtlingbronzelances.

Longasmorningroseandtheblesseddaygrewstronger

westoodandfoughtthemoff,massedastheywere,butthen,

whenthesunwheeledpastthehourforunyokingoxen,

theCiconesbrokeourlinesandbeatusdownatlast.

Outofeachship,sixmen-at-armswerekilled;

therestofusrowedawayfromcertaindoom.

Fromtherewesailedon,gladtoescapeourdeath

yetsickatheartforthedearcompanionswehadlost.

ButIwouldnotletourrollingshipssetsailuntilthecrews

hadraisedthetriplecry,salutingeachpoorcomrade

cutdownbythefierceCiconesonthatplain.

NowZeuswhomassesthestormcloudshitthefleet

withtheNorthWind—

ahowling,demonicgale,shroudingover

inthunderheadstheearthandseaatonce—

andnightsweptdown

fromtheskyandtheshipswentplungingheadlongon,

oursailsslashedtoragsbythehurricane’sblast!

Westruckthem—cringingatdeathwerowedourships

tothenearestshoreline,pulledwithallourpower.

There,fortwonights,twodays,welayby,noletup,

eatingourheartsout,bentwithpainandbone-tired.

WhenDawnwithherlovelylocksbroughtonthethirdday,

thensteppingthemastsandhoistingwhitesailshigh,

weloungedattheoarlocks,lettingwindandhelmsmen

keepustrueoncourse…

Andnow,atlonglast,

Imighthavereachedmynativelandunscathed,

butjustasIdoubledMalea’scape,atide-rip

andtheNorthWinddrovemewayoffcourse,

careeringpastCythera.

Ninewholedays

Iwasbornealongbyrough,deadlywinds

onthefish-infestedsea.Thenonthetenth

oursquadronreachedthelandoftheLotus-eaters,

peoplewhoeatthelotus,mellowfruitandflower.

Wedisembarkedonthecoast,drewwaterthere

andcrewmensnatchedamealbytheswiftships.

Oncewe’dhadourfilloffoodanddrinkIsent

adetailahead,twopickedmenandathird,arunner,

toscoutoutwhomightlivethere—menlikeusperhaps,

wholiveonbread?

Soofftheywentandsoonenough

theymingledamongthenatives,Lotus-eaters,Lotus-eaters

whohadnonotionofkillingmycompanions,notatall,

theysimplygavethemthelotustotasteinstead…

Anycrewmenwhoatethelotus,thehoney-sweetfruit,

lostalldesiretosendamessageback,muchlessreturn,

theironlywishtolingertherewiththeLotus-eaters,

grazingonlotus,allmemoryofthejourneyhome

dissolvedforever.ButIbroughtthemback,back

tothehollowships,andstreamingtears—Iforcedthem,

hauledthemundertherowingbenches,lashedthemfast

andshoutedoutcommandstomyother,steadycomrades:

‘Quick,notimetolose,embarkintheracingships!

’—

sononecouldeatthelotus,forgetthevoyagehome.

Theyswungaboardatonce,theysattotheoarsinranks

andinrhythmchurnedthewaterwhitewithstrokeonstroke.

Fromtherewesailedon,ourspiritsnowatalowebb,

andreachedthelandofthehighandmightyCyclops,

lawlessbrutes,whotrustsototheeverlastinggods

theyneverplantwiththeirownhandsorplowthesoil.

Unsown,unplowed,theearthteemswithalltheyneed,

wheat,barleyandvines,swelledbytherainsofZeus

toyieldabigfull-bodiedwinefromclusteredgrapes.

Theyhavenomeetingplaceforcouncil,nolawseither,

no,uponthemountainpeakstheyliveinarchingcaverns—

eachalawtohimself,rulinghiswivesandchildren,

notacareintheworldforanyneighbor.

Now,

alevelislandstretchesflatacrosstheharbor,

notcloseinshoretotheCyclops’coast,nottoofarout,

thickwithwoodswherethewildgoatsbreedbyhundreds.

Notramplingofmentostartthemfromtheirlairs,

nohuntersroughingitoutonthewoodyridges,

stalkingquarry,everraidtheirhaven.

Noflocksbrowse,noplowlandsrollwithwheat;

unplowed,unsownforever—emptyofhumankind—

theislandjustfeedsdrovesofbleatinggoats.

FortheCyclopshavenoshipswithcrimsonprows,

noshipwrightstheretobuildthemgoodtrimcraft

thatcouldsailthemouttoforeignportsofcall

asmostmenrisktheseastotradewithothermen.

Suchartisanswouldhavemadethisislandtoo

adecentplacetolivein…Nomeanspot,

itcouldbearyouanycropyoulikeinseason.

Thewater-meadowsalongthelowfoamingshore

runsoftandmoist,andyourvineswouldneverflag.

Theland’sclearforplowing.Harvestonharvest,

amancouldreapahealthystandofgrain—

thesubsoil’sdarkandrich.

There’sasnugdeep-waterharborthere,what’smore,

noneedformooring-gear,noanchor-stonestoheave,

nocablestomakefast.Justbeachyourkeels,rideout

thedaystillyourshipmates’spiritstirsforopensea

andafairwindblows.Andlast,attheharbor’shead

there’saspringthatrushesfreshfrombeneathacave

andblackpoplarsflourishrounditsmouth.

Well,

herewelanded,andsurelyagodsteeredusin

throughthepitch-blacknight.

Notthatheevershowedhimself,withthickfog

swirlingaroundtheships,themoonwrappedinclouds

andnotaglimmerstealingthroughthatgloom.

Notoneofusglimpsedtheisland—scanninghard—

orthelongcombersrollingusslowlytowardthecoast,

nottillourshipshadruntheirkeelsashore.

Beachingourvesselssmoothly,strikingsail,

thecrewsswungoutonthelowshelvingsand

andtherewefellasleep,awaitingDawn’sfirstlight.

WhenyoungDawnwithherrose-redfingersshoneoncemore

weallturnedout,intriguedtotourtheisland.

Thelocalnymphs,thedaughtersofZeushimself,

flushedmountain-goatssothecrewscouldmaketheirmeal.

Quicklywefetchedourcurvedbowsandhuntingspears

fromtheshipsand,splittingupintothreebands,

westartedshooting,andsoonenoughsomegod

hadsentusbagsofgametowarmourhearts.

Adozenvesselssailedinmycommand

andtoeachcrewninegoatsweresharedout

andminealonetookten.Thenalldaylong

tillthesunwentdownwesatandfeastedwell

onsidesofmeatandroundsofheadywine.

Thegoodredstockinourvessels’holds

hadnotrunout,therewasstillplentyleft;

themenhadcarriedoffagenerousstoreinjars

whenwestormedandsackedtheCicones’holycity.

NowwestaredacrossattheCyclops’shore,sonear

wecouldevenseetheirsmoke,heartheirvoices,

theirbleatingsheepandgoats…

Andthenwhenthesunhadsetandnightcameon

welaydownandsleptatthewater’sshelvingedge.

WhenyoungDawnwithherrose-redfingersshoneoncemore

Icalledamusterbriskly,commandingallthehands,

‘Therestofyoustayhere,my