The Odyssey

by Homer

The suitors yonder are all intent upon lyre and song; and well they may be, while they consume scot-free these goods that are not their own, the goods of a man whose whitening bones are cast up, perhaps, upon some shore, mouldering in rain, or are wave-tossed in the salt sea itself. If once that man – if once he himself stood before their eyes again in Ithaca, they would rather pray for more speed of foot than for more gold and more

garments. But no, he has perished miserably as I said, and no consolation is left for us, even if somewhere in the world there are those who prophesy his return; his day of homecoming has been blotted out.

‘Friend, I will speak

as frankly as you desire. My mother says that I am his son, though I myself have no knowledge of it – what man can be sure of his parentage?

Had he simply died, I should grieve less

Not knowing where his is or why he left him has caused him more pain

sweetness of life ebbed away from him in his comfortless longings for return,

it would be unbecoming that mortal women should vie in form and face with immortal goddesses.’

know that my wise Penelope, when a man looks at her, is far beneath you in form and stature; she is a mortal, you are immortal and unageing.