The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel
Page 64
he watched bee-gardens on the banks and licked his lips
and gulped his sweet saliva with unsated greed. 740
A white cow gently mooed with her distended dugs,
and her full udders fell into his thirsty lips
as he threw back his head and sucked the flowing milk.
Ah God, what great joy when the eyelids open wide
and fill with women, beasts, and fields, and all, all yours! 745
He could not bear such bursting joy—he’d draw a knife
and cut into his swelling veins to find relief,
but as he grasped his blade, and the dogs suddenly howled,
he turned and saw the far grass move in rippling waves:
heads gleamed and vanished in the light, shields rose and flashed, 750
until he cried “To arms!” and beat his drum and yelled.
The whole town rose as one, the women hid and quaked,
the young braves seized their weapons, the earth shook, and soon
nude brass-ringed bodies gleamed before the village gates.
Then the man-killer grabbed his iron sword and cried: 755
“Comrades, it’s no use quarreling now what road to choose
for fate has taken the lead and chosen without our leave!”
As the black braves foamed through the gates, their archers dashed
wave on black wave that billowed high in a great wind,
and on a lance in the vanguard their dread god flashed, 760
a stuffed and ponderous jackal that in grinding jaws
still held and licked the dry bones of a human skull.
Behind it flashed strong stalwarts smeared with gleaming fat
who held shields made of the scaled shells of water-turtles,
and on each shield, with secret signs in flaming paints, 765
the dread ancestral god of every tribe was stamped.
A black stud-dragon swooped down till his heels plowed up
huge dust-clouds in the road, and the earth heaved and tossed,
but when he came within a bow-shot’s furthest reach,
Granite knelt down and with a lethal arrow pierced 770
his scaly neck and sent him crashing like a bull.
Roaring, the dragon-brood then seized their bows of horn,
and though the arrows barely bruised two of the troop,
both rolled upon the sands convulsed, their wounds turned green,
and soon they breathed their last with empty and glazed eyes. 775
The archer turned, looked at the two, then leapt, with rage:
“Comrades, they’ve smeared their arrowheads with deadly poison!
Onward! Draw your short swords! Let’s fight them close at hand!”
He lashed his god’s mask with strong thongs about his chest
to keep it firm in the great clash, all drew their swords, 780
the battle flashed on earth like a great fire, and passed.
All who were saved that day still quailed when they recalled
black glistening bodies, pointed teeth, wild bristling hair
and flailing swords that rose and flashed in the hot sun.
Their brains were dazed in the noon’s heat, from every shield 785
the red paint thundered, all the tribal gods leapt out,
lions and crocodiles and snakes, and dashed to eat
those creatures who so suddenly surged with a new god.
Through flaming clouds of dust the swift-eyed archer saw
his god burst through the sturdy thongs, leap to the right 790
and laugh until his myriad teeth flashed in the sun.
Granite saw all his troop about him fall like trees
and cried to his tall captain in a piercing voice:
“We’re lost unless you find some new trick, dexterous man!
This jumble of men, gods and beasts will blot us out!” 795
But the much-suffering man roared out as his god’s tears
and wails flowed and resounded with his mingling blood:
“Comrade, the time is past for tricks! Rise up and strike!”
His proud words echoed still when a belovèd voice
thundered amid loud trampling feet on the scuffed sands: 800
“Courage, we’re here! Courage, we’ve kept our souls intact!”
and then a broad-rumped shadow fell on all those clashing heads.
When Kentaur had resolved to save the orphaned troop
he turned to the scared women and the famished children:
“Take heart, my dears, we’re not meat yet for the lean crows, 805
nor will we drop down dead because our captain’s left us;
we, too, hold castles full of hearts that won’t crack soon,
we, too, can be more stubborn than our stubborn friends.”
He spoke, and all took heart, their souls crept in their breasts,
and, tightening their lean waists, they pushed on with their great 810
good god, their stubborn, ponderous and broad-rumped friend.
“Ahoy, my dears! I’ve got a big speech now! Don’t laugh!
Hunger will harvest that one first who has no faith,
for he who fears, stinks to high heaven like a skunk,
and when Death sniffs him out then there’s no saving him. 815
By God, in this whole world I don’t know a more sly,
more cunning, useful virtue than sheer dizzy pluck!”
But the soft-hearted sot did not neglect to free
as many men as he could spare to hunt for game.
One day they found a native hunter, bound him fast, 820
then forced him with fierce threats to lead them somewhere close
where they might find wild game to eat, a place to sleep.
He led them through far sandhills; they killed game and ate,
their souls took flesh, their feeble forms grew strong, and then
they spied a town amidst the trees, fierce uproar on the sands, 825
and saw their friends scream and fall headlong on the earth.
They felt the danger and rejoiced deep in their bones
for now they had a chance to shame the proud young braves.
Like a huge bison Kentaur fell on the twined mob
and it was then his thunderous voice swooped on their heads: 830
“Courage, we’re here! Courage, we’ve kept our souls intact!”
The blacks howled and drew back, their knees gave way with fear,
and all their tribal gods, snakes, crocodiles, and lions
climbed back with fear and crouched upon their turtle shields,
for they had seen a more dread god fall from the sun. 835
Blood-drenched Odysseus then leapt up with open arms:
“A thousand, thousand welcomes, friend! Give us a hand!”
Fat Kentaur only grinned with his wide innocent mouth
and did not speak, for his fat neck had swelled with joy,
but he fell to, and hacked about him to find relief. 840
The blacks threw down their weapons, raised their arms on high,
and the proud hunter yelled to all his savage hounds:
“Lads, they’ve thrown down their arms! Stop the wild slaughter now!
The snares of pity and friendship serve our interest here!”
Then arm in arm they zoned the cowering blacks about, 845
picked up their weapons and then climbed to the strong town
that spread and shone in rose-rays of the setting sun.
By the closed village gates nine sweating slaves stooped down
under the weight of thick beams spread with lion skins
where like a hippopotamus their old chief sat enthroned. 850
His hair and shaggy bellies steamed with a rank sweat
and slaves ran up to help him raise his lumpish arms
as a high eunuch’s voice squeaked from his greasy throat:
“Welcome, O wh
ite-winged birds who come from distant shores,
the hungry gods are slaked now and will eat no more, 855
the gods were thirsty, but now they want to drink no more;
we bowed down to their will most gallantly, but now
it’s time that we, ant-heaps of earth, should eat and drink;
but first let’s bury our sharp swords and kiss like friends.”
He spoke, then his eyes filled with glutton’s bulky form, 860
—surely their chief, since the most fat—and spread his arms:
“Great chief, when we have eaten and our hearts have wined,
let’s form firm blood-ties; take my peerless daughter then,
sought by all chiefs, a hippopotamus of fat!”
Greedy-guts laughed and stroked the plump sides of the chief: 865
“Let’s eat first, king, and then we’ll look into the wedding.
Well said! The gods are slaked, they’ve eaten heaps of men:
let’s lard our own guts, too, with oxen and fat sheep,
then let your daughter come and sit on my fat knees—
I’ve got a curly huge carnation for her, too!” 870
The chieftain planted three sharp arrows in the earth
and the huge groom rammed a long sword into the pit
and planted a green basil spray sprinkled with honey.
Thus both sides buried war and planted friendship there;
then the town gates were flung wide open, and the king spread 875
his pitch-black sweating hands with their rank he-goat smell:
“Break down my house doors, groom! Enter with all your train,
let blood turn to sweet wine and skulls to drinking-cups!”
The nine king-carriers and the groom dashed through the gates
and on swift feet the famished friends pressed close behind; 880
the streets were all deserted, frightened doors were locked,
and in their rooms the women shrilled and tore their hair,
but when all reached the dragon’s den and his huge court,
the slaves set their king-dragon down on tender twigs
and the friends sat cross-legged about him on swept ground 885
and waited for great friendship’s swirling dance to start,
the heaped round trays, the wedding banquet’s larded feast.
The haughty sun broke down, long shadows cooled the lanes,
in pairs the wounded dragged themselves by pools to wash
their wounds, happy that Death had skipped them by a hair, 890
then all sat still and sweetly smelled the roasting meat.
Orpheus had not a word to say, a tight noose choked him,
his heart shook like a reed, for on an old oak tree
he saw huge clusters of white skulls that hung and swayed.
With fear he nudged his master and hissed in his sharp ears: 895
“Look there at Death’s huge apple tree weighed down with fruit!
Alas, our fate has cast us with man-eating beasts—
these are the dread dog-headed blacks told of in myths,
all sweet speech till they turn to snarling, biting dogs;
these are those double-dealing beasts who’ll eat us all!” 900
But the heart-battler hid his shuddering fear and said:
“Songster, be still! Do not forget your carefree craft;
you pass the world’s ache through your dulcet flute where pains
turn magically to memory and memory into song.”
Before the singer’s pallid lips could say a word, 905
huge slaves appeared with tall trays weighed with steaming meat,
breadloaves and foaming date wine and bright jugs of bronze.
The stars appeared, torches were lit, jaws ground away,
all fell upon their food and drink with hasty greed,
and as they ate, night the hyena with soft paws 910
crept in and cast her shadow on the courtyard stones.
The fetid chief sat silent on his bloodstained throne
and leant his hands on shining bones of his old foes;
as sweating slaves knelt down to fill his gaping mouth
with lumps of meat, the grease ran down his triple chins, 915
he snorted, and the trembling slaves ran up to fan him.
The archer then signed secretly with his swift eyes:
“Comrades, there’s too much fondling and attention here;
keep a sharp lookout, don’t drink much, hold your swords ready.”
Meanwhile some slaves ran bringing from the battlefield 920
the blood-soaked heads of the white troops on brazen trays;
they bathed them in the murky stream, then smeared with balm
and thickened myrtle-oil their nostrils, hair, and eyes,
and filled their purple mouths with wine and roasted meat.
When they had decked the heads like grooms and fed them full, 925
they knelt, bowed low, and prayed with fervor to each head:
“Alas, don’t curse us, brothers, because we slashed your necks!
Such are the wheels of chance, the written twists of fate,
but arrows are loaned things and spears but boomerangs:
that day will come when our heads, too, will hang from trees. 930
We stoop and fill your lips with meat and mellow wine;
ah, rest, my brothers, rest, and merge with the dark loam,
hold the earth’s entrails tight, don’t turn to vengeful ghosts,
for we, too, soon shall lie in earth with equal rage.”
Thus they bowed low and tried to appease the mighty souls 935
not to turn vampires, praying to the new-slain heads,
but in night’s coolness, under the full laden trees,
the living flaming heads, unruffled, ate and drank.
Granite climbed swiftly on the plunging cliffs of thought,
for the wine’s spirit, the wine-barrel’s cunning goblin, 940
secretly poured him whole wine-bowls of griefs and growls
until he sighed with longing and his winecup cracked:
“Rocky, I see you in my cup, a shriveled rose;
though I drink wine, yet I drink poison too, my friend,
I drink your pain, I beat upon the ground and shout: 945
‘Rocky, get up and come, let’s drink together awhile,
let’s swap two heartfelt words to ease our heavy pain.’
But don’t come like a ghost without your breath or body;
I want to squeeze you by the hand, to hear your voice;
and when the rooster crows at dawn, don’t leave me, friend, 950
stay, and let’s kill a cock and drink to your good health.”
Thus friendship’s true-love stuttered with his wine-ghost friend.
Kentaur stretched out in the chief’s yard like an oak tree
on whose green boughs the pallid piper hung and shook:
“Hey now, don’t sigh, my songster! I like that tree of skulls 955
hanging with heavy luscious fruit; look at it well!
I swear it’s a fine tree and bursts with pomegranates!”
Slowly the piper’s giddy mind swirled with the wine
till all the world became a vineyard, his friends grapes,
and his head hung like a grape-cluster filled with song 960
till the grape-harvest swelled and dark grape-treaders came.
Only the archer was not trapped, but cleansed his mind
with vigilant eyes, his brain snake-coiled and his ears cocked;
he sat on thorns, distrusting the obsequious care,
the flowing wine, the fragrant scents and the low whispered talk. 965
Night bloomed upon the humid earth like a black rose,
the stars rained with a thin dew on the downy dark,
and in night’s innermost heart a light breeze gently blew.
In the dim torchglow the arc
her saw a Negro troop
who sat cross-legged upon the ground and held strange gear 970
of music on their knees, in bird or jackal shape,
and each began to blare with its own singular sound.
But all at once the wedding conch boomed loud and long
and flatfoot turned to marvel at his comely bride.
Slowly the wedding pomp passed by with jackal shrieks: 975
first came full-breasted, naked Negro dancing-girls
streaked with bright yellow paint like long-striped tigresses
who beat the dowry with wheat stalks, or held tall drums,
and slowly dipped into the wedding-bond’s slow dance.
They reached out quivering toes and groped the magic ground 980
but trembled and drew back, as though their feet would wake
unknown dark powers that still slept on beneath the soil;
but slowly their dark flesh took wing, their eyes turned white
and flashed like lightning, their crisp breasts leapt up and swelled,
and musk aromas from their humid armpits steamed. 985
The orgiastic dancers ground their bellies, shrieked
with gleaming teeth, then fell in the aroused men’s arms,
but the archer rose erect and leant against a tree,
for savage atavistic memories stormed his skull
and the bronze hinges of his mind’s gate burst in two. 990
He bent his shaggy eyebrows into ruthless bows
and spoke to that still sleepless forge, his lucid mind:
“Ah, master-craftsman, now let’s see what you can do:
fetch up the sperm from the roused loins to the clear head
and make it soul!” A warm wind blew, white orchids steamed 995
on the dark women’s crinkly hair, fat widows danced
and bore about their necks their husbands’ whitened skulls,
and then the bride snaked in like a wild hunted beast
to spy the land, lust-laden, painted to the gills,
her stout and buxom body smeared with gleaming grease. 1000
An old witch doctor slunk about the growling groom
then threw upon his shaggy back a wedding robe
close-woven, scaled with yellow-gold canary wings,
and the roused bridegroom rushed through the rank sweating dark
to grab the shining bulky flesh of his fat bride. 1005
Thus in the sacred chase both bride and bridegroom played;
the white shells jangled in her hair, their hot breaths steamed,
the guests all laughed and danced, and the young singers ran
screeching about the courtyards like wild fowl in heat.