The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel
Page 92
and as its quivering body brimmed with rasping song,
together the two friends lunged down the mountain slope.
The mighty archon of the mind then hailed his friend: 85
“Welcome, small cricket, for you perch on Death’s own hair
with three all-crimson regal rubies in your head!
Wee athlete, I admire your pluck and stubbornness;
you do not live on the sky’s dew and empty air
for your intestines seek firm food that they may sing. 90
Cling to the Tree of Death and drill it full of holes
until it spouts with honey and you’re fit to burst;
be quick, I don’t think we’ve much time, for soon at night
the great green Locust will swoop down and slash our necks!
Let’s be in time, my friend, to fling a lustrous song 95
and a shrill voice from branch to branch in night’s dark tree.”
Thus did the lone man talk and reached to touch his friend
but it leapt up with rasping wrath, thrust in his hair,
and there, as in white-thorn, its high thin voice began
to saw its master’s brains in two with shrill delight. 100
The demon-battered peak of earth began to shake:
“I think that somewhere, as I plunged toward a blue beach, 102
while at my back the smoke of a new-plundered town
still swirled, a famished crow perched on my shoulder blade
with beak still bloody from a king’s disboweled guts; 105
but now a tender cricket clings, its silver mouth
full-fed and slaked with song and a rare drop of honey.
All things at length are harmonized with the soul’s cares!”
He spoke thus with his cricket and his wealthy mind,
then crossed the mountain, goading his air-flock before him, 110
his flowered shepherd’s crook slung straight across his back.
Nor did he think of hunger now that flailed his bowels,
nor did he longer bear his old crew’s heavy corpse,
but in his mind the earth and sky beat like two brilliant wings.
The pine rejoices in the rain, the fir in snow, 115
and the good man rejoices as he walks the earth
with but a cricket in his hair, no dogs, no gods!
The sun reclined at the ascetic’s left-hand temple,
and earth grew light and cool as soon as the sun set;
to the far ends of Africa all live things breathed, 120
men plunged in the cool rivers to refresh themselves
then beat their drums and bellowed, swirled in dance until
the Evening Star struck all with sweet intoxication.
Blue shadows spread like plots of violets, the night spilled
like a sweet-peppery wine that made brains reel with drink, 125
and life and death were joined, widows and dead men merged,
a pyre was raised high in the woods as the sun fell
and in the afterglow the last farewells began.
The widows wailed and clawed their cheeks, the trusted slaves
shrilled as they laid a fat corpse on a tall pyre’s peak, 130
then poured oil on the wood, set it afire till flame
leapt up and licked and clasped with joy the prostrate meat.
A stout witch doctor raised his plump hands toward the pyre:
“Push off! The flames now swell your sails! Good voyage, friend!
We’ve given you many orders; don’t forget them, mind! 135
Tell our forebears that if they want to eat slain men
cast in high heaps in pits, and drink deep jugs of blood,
they, too, must dash to help us when the war drums beat.
Yesterday not one poked his nose out! Let them starve!
We’ve not one slave for them to eat as votive gift. 140
Tell them to move their feet fast if they want to eat,
to gird their swords, nor haunt us with their hungry whines.
You’re starving? Then come down to help us! Stop your twiddling!
Tell them that here the world is poor and the meat little.
Push off, O herald; take our pains to the underworld!” 145
Thus in the shades of evening, in the night’s embrace,
sorrows and joys changed places often, black-white spots
on the sunburnt and dappled leopard hide of earth.
Odysseus, hungry athlete, stood at the steep edge
of a dusk-smothered deep ravine and sought to find 150
a smoking hut far down the plain where man and wife
stooped low and poked the fire to cook their holy meal.
He heard a slight commotion in the brush, then turned
his eyes, but did not move, and saw a scrawny wolf
slink through the shadows slyly, slowly cutting down 155
against the wind that sheep dogs might not find his scent.
But when the starved beast sniffed man’s odor, he stood still,
and his great brother smiled as their two glances crossed;
one in his black brain mused if he should pounce upon
that upright form, or slink away with draggled tail; 160
the other in his sunwashed mind thought of a truce:
“Dear Brother Wolf, abandon your sly crooked paths;
don’t seek in fright to veer from winds—sheepfolds await you,
and the rough sheep dogs wag their shaggy tails with love
and wait your coming, O great prince of shepherds, Wolf! 165
The shepherd gives the shepherd lad strict orders now:
‘My son, it’s time to rise and push into the woods;
stand with esteem before the Wolf’s great lodge and say:
“The shepherd of unnumbered sheep and fierce watchdogs
sends greetings to the famished chieftain of the woods; 170
his dogs are tied, his sheepfold’s gates gape all night long,
he has no work to do, his buxom lambs increase,
both wolf and shepherd are old fellow-traveling friends,
and both set out together, famished, to find lambs.
Master, it’s time to stop our quarreling. Let’s be friends. 175
May my fat croft become your noble household also.
Welcome, O Chieftain Wolf, let the feast boards be spread!
Behold, the sheep have smelled you out and bow their heads,
the shepherd welcomes you like a loved king who year
on year in dark and wretched exile fought his foes 180
and now returns at length to his chief town with joy.” ’” ”
Thus quarrels and friendships merged within the lone man’s mind
and the wolf bent his savage head serenely, thrust
his tail between his legs and slunk along the shadowed shrubs.
Meanwhile, as black night mounted like a monstrous castle, 185
the mighty warrior huddled by an oak tree’s root
and called on sleep, his faithful slave, to start his task.
In the moist air a female glowworm silently,
with her pert belly glowing, mistook the lone man’s beard
for a bright flowering bush, chose it for her night’s rest 190
and with blue brilliance called on the male grooms to come;
as the god battler shut his eyes, the glowworms swarmed,
and all night long his bright beard shone with dazzling blue.
The ascetic’s sleep was thick and sweet, filled full of wonders;
as a sea-diver spurts from waves and holds in hand 195
a heavy precious coral, the god-battler woke,
his entrails cool and glowing still amid the coral.
Again he raised his staff, plunged southward and passed on
but saw no fruit to eat, nor slightest trace of man;
the sun shone through his body, thinned by hunger pangs, 200
&nbs
p; and as his eyes grew dazed, he heard a buzzing sound
as Death like a great sea-fly or a black night-moth
opened his downy wings and hovered in azure air
till the archer raised his hand and spoke with a full heart:
“Welcome, O mighty landlord, welcome, final haven, 205
welcome, O tail-end of the dance, wasp-sting of life!
Welcome, cup-bearer with your deep wine-bowl in hand,
give us to drink till we get drunk, let minstrels come
—all kinds of men and trees and seas and dreams and thoughts—
to sing in all the streets before the grand return!” 210
A butterfly came and perched upon the rain-drenched soil,
then closed its wings, and lo, once more turned to a worm.
Odysseus then half-closed his eyes and shook with laughter
for he knew well the dazzling tricks of cunning Time
that with swift sleight-of-hand grasps shadows, light and air, 215
then shapes, reshapes in play the wonders of the world;
it casts the dry stones of date trees in burning sand,
broods on them like a hen and hatches them like eggs.
Dear God, who’d ever think to find so tightly locked
in those dry stones, such soaring date trees, such long leaves, 220
such honeyed dates that burst in clustered rows in light?
In his frail famished throat the archer tasted all
the date trees’ sweetness longingly, then stood beneath
the flowering branches of a date palm, faint with hunger.
In a half-daze he heard a scuffle on scorched stones 225
and saw a peacock and a viper thrashing fiercely;
the poisonous serpent hissed and flicked its two-pronged fang
and strove in frenzy to pierce through the feathered plate;
fluttering in wrath above it with full-swollen wings,
the handsome bird struck with its beak as with an ax 230
and then with sharp claws tore the viper on the stones
and gulped it greedily chunk by chunk to nourish well
its godly gold-flecked feathers and its turquoise breast.
And the god-slayer smiled in his faint daze, well-slaked,
as though the viper’s meat had plunged in his own bowels 235
and gold-flecked wings had sprouted from his pulsing brows.
The handsome glutted bird wiped his red beak on stones,
uttered a harsh glad cry, then leapt from branch to branch
of a huge cedar tree, and perched like golden fruit
until the lustrous lone man fell in an exhausted swoon. 240
Night smothered down with stars and her seductive wiles;
like the gray foaming waves his mind roared hollowly,
gulls flew deep in remembrance, memory smelled of brine,
and as he raised his eyes he thought he lay beneath
a plane tree whose burs glittered in the night’s sky-well. 245
“Old friend, we’ll sleep tonight clasped in each other’s arms,”
he said, then as he leant his head upon the tree’s
dark wooded breast, its spirit rose, and a green-haired,
slim dryad sweetly clasped the lonely white-haired sage
till in his brains there opened huge and hidden orbs. 250
Cluster by cluster, downy beehives hung in sun,
cranes flew back, fetching swallows, white-thorns burst in bloom,
air buckled on its wings aloft and crowed like cocks.
Slowly the barks of trees cracked open, the wells brimmed
till all their hidden phantoms leapt, the plane trees swayed, 255
and each tree turned into a spirit with mudstained feet;
small hairy demons danced with horse-tails stiffly straight
and beautiful brown-haired Nereids reeled in flowering fields.
Two girls with heads thrust back in rapture beat their drums,
an old potbellied satyr dragged a lean he-ass 260
with cackling cries, a wineskin slung across his back.
A shaggy youth danced in the lead and held aloft
a fertile phallus, that full-weaponed head of hope;
bare-bosomed maenads danced, and flaming apples clashed 264
and clashed again in apple trees and glowed in night. 265
A red-haired maiden loosed her hair till flames rushed down
her back, another spread a leopard hide and placed
her virgin thighs as offering to the lurid sky.
The wedding pomp passed through the glen like a swift stream
till youthful Greece’s azure seashores gleamed and glowed 270
as gentle light dripped softly on old olive trees
and all the bare and billowing mountains smelled of thyme.
Then the far-exiled dreamer blinked enchanted eyes
and all the pomp sank in the waves, dissolved like foam,
the sea’s roar spread and boiled in a waste wilderness 275
and a slim skiff like a man’s body, a carved bier,
leapt in the frothing waves and sped on toward the South.
The sea grew savage, leapt astride the stern and bow,
but the unruffled coffin sailed from wave to wave
and cut a path, although with torn and screeching sails. 280
The vision dripped with honey in Odysseus’ heart,
and azure Greece, blown in his mind like a cool wind
and filled with fragrance of wild thyme and dew-wet pines,
swept through his brain and breathless body all night long.
He’d never felt his native land so sweet before, 285
and when he rose at dawn and shook his whitened hair
it seemed as though blue butterflies had perched on snow.
“My native land’s too shy to come in the day’s light
and like a harehound waits in hiding till night falls;
sleep is a good and great temptation—may it be blessed!” 290
He rose, and his knees shook from want of food and drink;
he felt the earth beneath his feet like a thin trap,
and as he moved and saw smoke rise in sun far off
he thought he heard mild lowing, as of cows that grazed,
and the strong odor of a village smote his mind. 295
He tripped and stumbled giddily, his knees gave way,
his white head nodded till he fainted and fell prone.
Far down the dusty road there soon appeared a slim
and sway-hipped maiden hurrying on with hasty steps
to bring her husband’s supper at their distant farm— 300
a pitcher of cool water, rice-milk and warm bread.
Brass anklets jangled on her feet; she’d just been wed,
and yearned to reach her husband soon, unyoke the oxen,
spread cool leaves on the ground, lay out their humble meal,
eat well, then lie on grass and play like newlyweds. 305
But when she saw the lone man on the ground, her heart
swelled like a mother’s and ached for that exhausted form;
kneeling, she gently raised the white-haired head with care
for fear his fragile limbs might crumble in her hands.
The soul of the much-suffering man twitched in her arms, 310
for the warm smell of woman smote his waxen nostrils;
he raised his eyes, then shut them with a gentle trust
and knew that life had clasped him in her arms once more.
The newly wed young Negress held the dreadful head
and slowly fed it like a child with milk and rice; 315
his dizziness distilled to calm, his nostrils smelled
milk brimming and a female body’s soothing warmth
till visages of all maids he had loved on earth
merged, changed, and glittered in this maiden’s kindly face.
From a cave deep as the heart, upon a gleaming beach, 320
a bitter sigh was heard, a blond-haired goddess rose,
swayed palely in a dark cave’s mouth, then disappeared.
Other fair maids flashed in his mind, and their tears flowed,
apple on swaying apple which the fall rains beat.
Then the long-wandering man reached out his hands and stroked 325
her sunburnt shoulders and dark hair, her lips, her throat,
and the slim maiden blushed, uttered a cry, and laid
him gently on the earth as though he were her son.
He shut his burning eyes that she might not take fright:
“Ah, mother, my small mother, how shall I bless you, dear? 330
May your womb bear a child much greater far than I;
alas, I swear I have no better gift to give you.”
He spoke, then rose and hailed the date tree’s cooling shade,
the full-green, foliaged, warbling plane tree of his dream,
then said farewell to the goodhearted maid, and still 335
a drop of milk hung from his lips as from a baby’s mouth.
Once more, with firm knees now, he took his lonely way;
a woman’s odor, sweet rice-milk, and fostering dreams
swirled swiftly down his entrails’ funnel and became
strong flesh and regulating mind and gentle breath. 340
The shadows lengthened, all birds crowded in their nests,
and the sky’s candles flared in rows as the great traveler
leant on a lightning-blasted oak to let night pass.
As his mind filled with eyes like the long peacock’s tail,
he stretched on earth, hailed all creation had ordained, 345
listened to the light chat of birds, the trees’ soft sighs,
and heard the nude worms strive in soil to burst in bloom,
to sprout with myriad eyes and wings and soar in sun.
“Child-teeming Mother Earth, O thick wood grove through whom
wonders on wonders pass, entrails on entrails gape, 350
O deep nest filled with varied eggs that hatch in sun!”
He spoke, and with his calloused hands caressed the soil;
he heard the wide earth sitting on the steps of space
and weeping like a woman gripped with labor pains.
“The birds and trees cry out, the worms cry out, and all 355
creations of the proud mind shout in the wild wastes.
With wind and rain and snow, with bread and wine and meat
we all work silently together, stooped in dark,
shaping the world’s salvation with our painful strife,
and when a son is born one dawn, how the world breathes, 360