The Iliad

by Homer

Killing begets killing, death begets death, and every loss of life generates further loss of life.

She brushed it from his skin—as light a gesture 130 as when a mother strokes away a fly 170 to keep it from her baby, sweetly sleeping.

So many Greeks and Trojans on that day lay face-down in the dust beside each other.

The Greeks were seized by overwhelming panic, sister of icy fear.

You can raid fine cattle or well-fed sheep, and you can trade to get tripods and horses with bright golden manes. But human life does not come back again after it passes through the fence of teeth. No trade or raiding can recover it.

Now many horses rattled between the channels of the fighting. Their sturdy necks pulled empty chariots. 160 They missed their drivers, who lay on the earth, more dearly loved by vultures than their wives.

So there he fell and slept the sleep of bronze.

Into the battle throng he plunged—like wind, which gusts up high, leaps down into the water, and roils the violet surface of the sea.

Respite in war is only ever brief.

“Pathetic Paris! Womanizer! Cheat! You are the very best at looking pretty!

My friend Patroclus, whom I loved, is dead. 100 I loved him more than any other comrade. I loved him like my head, my life, myself. I lost him, killed him.

If only conflict were eliminated from gods and human beings! I wish anger did not exist. Even the wisest people are roused to rage, which trickles into you sweeter than honey, and inside your body 110 it swells like smoke—

As fire from heaven rages through deep glens 640 on a parched mountainside and forests burn and wind whirls everywhere and whips the flames, Achilles with his spear swept everywhere, pursuing those he killed.

wretched mortals. 620 Like leaves, they flourish for a little while, flaming with life and eating crops from fields, but soon they fade and shrivel up and die. So let us stop our quarrel right away, and let the mortals fight among themselves.”

He saw the gleam, just like the star that rises in late summer, whose beams shine bright amid the constellations 40 at dead of night—the people call it Dog Star, Orion’s dog, which flashes dazzling light, 30 an evil omen bringing many fevers to poor, unhappy mortals—so the bronze shone on Achilles’ breastplate as he sprinted.

I will not forget Patroclus, never, while my body moves, while I am still among those still alive, and even if the dead forget each other 520 in Hades, even there I will remember 390 my friend, the man I love.

So let a single urn hold both our bones, the golden vessel with the double handles which you were given by your goddess mother.”