The OdysseyFagles translationbook 9.docx

1、The OdysseyFagles translationbook 9Book IXIn the One-Eyed Giants Cave (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）, the great teller of tales故事, launched out on his story:“Alcinous阿尔喀诺俄斯, majesty 威严, shining among your island people,what a fine thing it is to listen to such a bard 吟游诗人as we have here

2、the man sings like a god.The crown of life, Id say. Theres nothing betterthan when deep joy holds sway throughout the realmand banqueters up and down the palace sit in ranks,enthralled to hear the bard, and before them all, the tablesheaped with bread and meats, and drawing wine from a mixing-bowlth

3、e steward makes his rounds and keeps the winecups flowing.This, to my mind, is the best that life can offer.But nowyoure set on probing the bitter pains Ive borne,so Im to weep and grieve, it seems, still more.Well then, what shall I go through first,what shall I save for last?What painsthe gods hav

4、e given me my share.Now let me begin by telling you my name so you may know it well and I in times to come,if I can escape the fatal day, will be your host,your sworn friend, though my home is far from here.I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, known to the worldfor every kind of craftmy fame has reached t

5、he skies.Sunny Ithaca is my home. Atop her stands our seamark,Mount Neritons leafy ridges shimmering in the wind.Around her a ring of islands circle side-by-side,Dulichion, Same, wooded Zacynthus too, but minelies low and away, the farthest out to sea,rearing into the western duskwhile the others fa

6、ce the east and breaking day.Mine is a rugged land but good for raising sonsand I myself, I know no sweeter sight on earththan a mans own native country.True enough,Calypso the lustrous goddess tried to hold me back,deep in her arching caverns, craving me for a husband.So did Circe, holding me just

7、as warmly in her halls,the bewitching queen of Aeaea keen to have me too.But they never won the heart inside me, never.So nothing is as sweet as a mans own country,his own parents, even though hes settled downin some luxurious house, off in a foreign landand far from those who bore him.No more. Come

8、,let me tell you about the voyage fraught with hardshipZeus inflicted on me, homeward bound from Troy The wind drove me out of Ilium on to Ismarus,the Cicones stronghold. There I sacked the city,killed the men, but as for the wives and plunder,that rich haul we dragged away from the placewe shared i

9、t round so no one, not on my account,would go deprived of his fair share of spoils.Then I urged them to cut and run, set sail,but would they listen? Not those mutinous fools;there was too much wine to swill, too many sheep to slaughterdown along the beach, and shambling longhorn cattle.And all the w

10、hile the Cicones sought out other Cicones,called for help from their neighbors living inland:a larger force, and stronger soldiers too,skilled hands at fighting men from chariots,skilled, when a crisis broke, to fight on foot.Out of the morning mist they came against uspacked as the leaves and spear

11、s that flower forth in springand Zeus presented us with disaster, me and my comradesdoomed to suffer blow on mortal blow. Lining up,both armies battled it out against our swift ships,both raked each other with hurtling bronze lances.Long as morning rose and the blessed day grew strongerwe stood and

12、fought them off, massed as they were, but then,when the sun wheeled past the hour for unyoking oxen,the Cicones broke our lines and beat us down at last.Out of each ship, six men-at-arms were killed;the rest of us rowed away from certain doom.From there we sailed on, glad to escape our deathyet sick

13、 at heart for the dear companions we had lost.But I would not let our rolling ships set sail until the crewshad raised the triple cry, saluting each poor comradecut down by the fierce Cicones on that plain.Now Zeus who masses the stormclouds hit the fleetwith the North Winda howling, demonic gale, s

14、hrouding overin thunderheads the earth and sea at onceand night swept downfrom the sky and the ships went plunging headlong on,our sails slashed to rags by the hurricanes blast!We struck themcringing at death we rowed our shipsto the nearest shoreline, pulled with all our power.There, for two nights

15、, two days, we lay by, no letup,eating our hearts out, bent with pain and bone-tired.When Dawn with her lovely locks brought on the third day,then stepping the masts and hoisting white sails high,we lounged at the oarlocks, letting wind and helmsmenkeep us true on course And now, at long last,I migh

16、t have reached my native land unscathed,but just as I doubled Maleas cape, a tide-ripand the North Wind drove me way off course,careering past Cythera.Nine whole daysI was borne along by rough, deadly windson the fish-infested sea. Then on the tenthour squadron reached the land of the Lotus-eaters,p

17、eople who eat the lotus, mellow fruit and flower.We disembarked on the coast, drew water thereand crewmen snatched a meal by the swift ships.Once wed had our fill of food and drink I senta detail ahead, two picked men and a third, a runner,to scout out who might live theremen like us perhaps,who liv

18、e on bread? So off they went and soon enoughthey mingled among the natives, Lotus-eaters, Lotus-eaterswho had no notion of killing my companions, not at all,they simply gave them the lotus to taste instead Any crewmen who ate the lotus, the honey-sweet fruit,lost all desire to send a message back, m

19、uch less return,their only wish to linger there with the Lotus-eaters,grazing on lotus, all memory of the journey homedissolved forever. But I brought them back, backto the hollow ships, and streaming tearsI forced them,hauled them under the rowing benches, lashed them fastand shouted out commands t

20、o my other, steady comrades:Quick, no time to lose, embark in the racing ships!so none could eat the lotus, forget the voyage home.They swung aboard at once, they sat to the oars in ranksand in rhythm churned the water white with stroke on stroke.From there we sailed on, our spirits now at a low ebb

21、,and reached the land of the high and mighty Cyclops,lawless brutes, who trust so to the everlasting godsthey never plant with their own hands or plow the soil.Unsown, unplowed, the earth teems with all they need,wheat, barley and vines, swelled by the rains of Zeusto yield a big full-bodied wine fr

22、om clustered grapes.They have no meeting place for council, no laws either,no, up on the mountain peaks they live in arching cavernseach a law to himself, ruling his wives and children,not a care in the world for any neighbor.Now,a level island stretches flat across the harbor,not close inshore to t

23、he Cyclops coast, not too far out,thick with woods where the wild goats breed by hundreds.No trampling of men to start them from their lairs,no hunters roughing it out on the woody ridges,stalking quarry, ever raid their haven.No flocks browse, no plowlands roll with wheat;unplowed, unsown foreverem

24、pty of humankindthe island just feeds droves of bleating goats.For the Cyclops have no ships with crimson prows,no shipwrights there to build them good trim craftthat could sail them out to foreign ports of callas most men risk the seas to trade with other men.Such artisans would have made this isla

25、nd tooa decent place to live in No mean spot,it could bear you any crop you like in season.The water-meadows along the low foaming shorerun soft and moist, and your vines would never flag.The lands clear for plowing. Harvest on harvest,a man could reap a healthy stand of grainthe subsoils dark and r

26、ich.Theres a snug deep-water harbor there, whats more,no need for mooring-gear, no anchor-stones to heave,no cables to make fast. Just beach your keels, ride outthe days till your shipmates spirit stirs for open seaand a fair wind blows. And last, at the harbors headtheres a spring that rushes fresh

27、 from beneath a caveand black poplars flourish round its mouth.Well,here we landed, and surely a god steered us inthrough the pitch-black night.Not that he ever showed himself, with thick fogswirling around the ships, the moon wrapped in cloudsand not a glimmer stealing through that gloom.Not one of

28、 us glimpsed the islandscanning hardor the long combers rolling us slowly toward the coast,not till our ships had run their keels ashore.Beaching our vessels smoothly, striking sail,the crews swung out on the low shelving sandand there we fell asleep, awaiting Dawns first light.When young Dawn with

29、her rose-red fingers shone once morewe all turned out, intrigued to tour the island.The local nymphs, the daughters of Zeus himself,flushed mountain-goats so the crews could make their meal.Quickly we fetched our curved bows and hunting spearsfrom the ships and, splitting up into three bands,we star

30、ted shooting, and soon enough some godhad sent us bags of game to warm our hearts.A dozen vessels sailed in my commandand to each crew nine goats were shared outand mine alone took ten. Then all day longtill the sun went down we sat and feasted wellon sides of meat and rounds of heady wine.The good

31、red stock in our vessels holdshad not run out, there was still plenty left;the men had carried off a generous store in jarswhen we stormed and sacked the Cicones holy city.Now we stared across at the Cyclops shore, so nearwe could even see their smoke, hear their voices,their bleating sheep and goats And then when the sun had set and night came onwe lay down and slept at the waters shelving edge.When young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once moreI called a muster briskly, commanding all the hands,The rest of you stay here, my