The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel

by Nikos Kazantzakis

  His daughter sat beside him chewing the seal’s pelt

  and munched in haste to shape and sew her wedding dress,

  for soon the sun and the fat seals would come again,

  the musk-deer with their precious horns, the downy ducks, 1070

  to line their guts once more with lard, to swell their brains;

  then all would pile in the snow-sleds, in-laws and friends,

  and she and her betrothed would cut through snowways first

  to reach the frozen ice, before the snows could melt,

  and pitch their tents on the firm rocks of the spring’s thaw. 1075

  There on the topmost rock their bridal tent would rise

  surrounded by green long-haired willows and thick reeds

  as from their rooftops the bride’s crimson banner waved. 1078

  Within would stand their holy furnishings, new-hewn,

  the well-remembered cradle, the unblackened pots, 1080

  their new stone lamps, their still unused and hooked harpoons,

  and her resounding loom on which to weave firm cloth

  so that her son might find his armature complete.

  When they remained alone with their new furnishings,

  like lusty landlords they would pull their tent-flap tight, 1085

  kneel down before that god who holds man’s germ of life

  and sweetly merge on a musk-deer’s embroidered hide.

  The maiden chewed before the fire, half-closed her eyes,

  then smiled in patience, for the sun already rose

  in her small bridal heart and spread to her loins warmly. 1090

  Her mother huddled by her side, shriveled and thin,

  with withered empty cheeks, with bones that pierced her flesh,

  nor spoke nor swayed, but sank in a narcotic daze

  till in her dreams her forebears came with beckoning signs

  and fed her with roast hare, gave her sweet wine to drink, 1095

  till the old lady smiled in sleep and swallowed hard.

  The lone man gazed on the low fire and smiled, for soon,

  whether it willed or not, the sun would come, and he

  would leave in a small skiff they’d built him of sealskin,

  and when the waters thawed, he’d raise his one long oar 1100

  and vanish southward toward the sun, not to return.

  “Blessed also be this earth that with its savage ruth

  has fed us with the crystal poisons of her heart,

  charitable jellyfish that stings us till we freeze

  and set sail, with the mind’s consent, to the white further shore.” 1105

  As the world-roamer stooped in thought and fed his mind,

  the old witch doctor screamed, the log slipped from his hands,

  and he dropped nerveless on the hides with a deep sigh.

  His daughter quickly stopped her chewing, raised her eyes,

  clasped her dear father tightly, rocked him like a babe, 1110

  and he, as in a dazed dream, heard his daughter sing

  the dead man’s song, as though he had already crossed

  the ashy river at the earth’s foundation roots.

  “Father, do you recall how you returned at night

  with empty hooks and empty fishnets, and damned life: 1115

  ‘May life be cursed that smashes in our hungry mouths!’”

  As from another, misty shore, his voice replied:

  “Yes, daughter, I recall, but life, alas, is sweet!”

  “Father, do you recall your sighs when the hearth died

  and your intestines drooped and you cried out to Death: 1120

  ‘O Death, O tasty reindeer full of fat and meat,

  come, I can’t bear my hunger! Feed me, or I’ll starve!’”

  “Yes, daughter, I recall, but life, alas, is sweet!”

  “Father, do you recall when you clasped your dead child

  and shouted to the sun that set and stars that rose: 1125

  ‘What in this world are children but morsels for grim Death?

  Cursed be that couple that gives birth and feeds the Slayer!’”

  “Yes, daughter, I recall, but life, alas, is sweet!”

  Thus father and daughter keened, each from two different shores,

  and when she opened her arms wide, a river flowed 1130

  and foamed between them, ashy, dark, and stained with blood.

  Hearing the deadly song beat on her ears in dream

  and shake her mind, the mother opened her eyes slowly

  and saw the old man pant supine with rattling gasps

  as the maid clasped him tight and keened the songs of death. 1135

  “My husband has set sail to eat with his forefathers”,

  his old wife said with envy, shut her eyes, and dozed,

  but then the old man seized his daughter’s virgin hips,

  his loins grew firm and warm, he climbed to earth once more,

  and life smiled on his quivering lashes like salt tears. 1140

  The maid once more began to chew the seal’s tough hide,

  her mind flew off once more to her loud wedding pomp

  and the ice within her once more melted, the sun shone.

  The wind of madness blew now in a dull red storm,

  brains echoed like resounding drums, and dogs, gods, men 1145

  moaned in great hunger from a bottomless cold darkness;

  they drank snow and ate snow and clasped snow tight in sleep,

  and even Death approached like snow with snow-white dogs.

  Old men and women huddled round the sorcerer’s lamp

  and brought their last thin shreds of fat to warm themselves 1150

  till the witch doctor’s decoy-heart, beside the fire,

  opened its beak and sang a sad and dragging dirge

  that swept man’s heart far off from hunger and from love:

  “What are these joys and sorrows, God, this life on earth,

  roots moored in pitch-black waters, ceaseless tears that flow, 1155

  hands that clasp tight against the world’s vast solitude?

  The heart is a black tigress stalking through the night,

  which one day may growl fiercely and swallow the whole world—

  then a low song will suddenly smash our world in two.”

  As the witch doctor sang, unbearable tumult surged 1160

  in their emboldened shriveled hearts, their bodies cracked,

  their secret shames were conquered till their naked souls

  sprang up in the song’s sweetness, drenched with blood and mire.

  Like cobras that had heard the magic flute’s sweet song,

  they locked their poisons in their fangs and reared in light 1165

  with honeyed eyes, allured from the heart’s deepest pits.

  Then in the filthy snow-huts men and women swayed

  with frothing lips, till with swift gasps, beyond their will,

  all there began confessing their dark crimes and sins:

  some told of savage murders, some of petty thefts, 1170

  some of their sleeping with their neighbors’ easy wives,

  and one told of perverted thoughts that weighed him down

  to fall upon the town and put all men to sword

  till he remained alone with cattle and plump girls.

  All, swept away by the unbearable sweet song, 1175

  poured out their laden hearts until, disburdened, they began

  to weep and kiss before the dying man’s low hearth

  till all entwined in one fraternal knot of love.

  Odysseus jumped erect and leant against the pole

  in the hut’s center, silently, and held his heart 1180

  to keep it firm from falling in the coiled crowd shamelessly.

  Thus with confession’s cliffs and famine’s massacres

  the baneful hours crawled through snows like evil ghosts

  as the stone lante
rns flickered low and Death rode by

  on his red stag-elk, beckoning, and swept men away. 1185

  Once a white bear, out of compassion and deep love,

  fell in a pit that youths had dug by the iced shore,

  and they seized her with awe, dressed her in queenly robes,

  then beat their drums and brought her to their huts with pomp.

  The elders bowed in worship and the maids embraced her: 1190

  “Forgive us, noble lady, hold no grudge against us,

  your role on earth is to be killed, to fill our bellies

  so that man’s seed and mothers’ breasts may grow and swell.

  Welcome! Our bosoms surge with honey and sweet milk!”

  As soon as he smelled meat, the sorcerer revived 1195

  and donned his holy ritual robes and his fierce mask,

  thus to mislead the noble she-bear’s sacred eyes

  that she might not stalk through his sleep and swiftly climb

  the foliage of his dreams with her thick crooked paws.

  He bowed and worshiped humbly with sly, flattering signs: 1200

  “O tasty and well-muscled goddess, hear our prayers:

  descend to our shrunk entrails, line them well with meat,

  then come again to earth that we may once more eat you;

  the mills of life are strong and good—birds, beasts, men, gods

  turn and once more return between their savage stones. 1205

  Enter and feed the millstones well, start the jaws working,

  let the thick bones begin to crack in the great grinding

  till our holds fill with meat, our bellies’ funnels burst

  and the mind’s flapping mill-sails swell and whirl anew!

  O firm-fleshed spirit, Mother Bear, forgive me, though 1210

  against my will I raise my ax on your plump neck,

  for all my people long to merge with you as one.”

  The old man spoke with fear then raised his glittering ax,

  and his brains burned, his arms bulged with a dragon’s strength,

  and the snows round him reddened full three fathoms wide. 1215

  At the first stroke the she-bear roared, and the old man

  roared in reply, and the whole gathered town roared too;

  then at the second stroke the great beast’s holy neck

  rolled like a newborn sun on earth and all eyes shone

  and all dry throats were watered well and deeply quenched; 1220

  at the third stroke bear, men, and blood were merged in one

  and Death leapt on his stag and rode to other settlements.

  Thus did the human herd live on, from hand to mouth,

  as under the snow-shroud, amid the torpid roots,

  spring moved her stiffened limbs with stealth in the deep dark. 1225

  Rotating Time whirls round, and insects, birds, and beasts

  once more rise into light, bound tight to its huge wheel;

  when flaring nostrils smell the spring, eyes blaze with joy,

  snows creak and crack, the stars grow pallid with sweet light,

  and day will wake with crystal bracelets, stretch and yawn. 1230

  Low willows then will cast their shade on harbor shores,

  the fuzzy and green lichen, too, will crawl on rocks

  and the warmed earth forget the savage pain she bore.

  Brides with completed dowries then will open doors,

  look toward the East and long for days to smile with warmth 1235

  till the dark sky blush red, the hanging crystals smash,

  and snow-sleds speed once more in the year’s wedding pomps.

  Deep in the earth the snakes begin to squirm, the worms to crawl,

  and the old stag-elks hear deep rumbling in the snows

  and gather their thinned herds to trek down toward the shore. 1240

  The old men too, like ancient elks, stand on their sills,

  sniff with distended nostrils, bend their listening ears

  and weigh what hour would now be best for their departure

  before the thin ice thaw and swallow the whole town.

  On the sky’s rim a pallid dawn began to tremble 1245

  and all eyes laughed and glowed, fixed warmly on the East

  where the sun rocked in the sky, an infant in its cradle.

  With a gold bonnet, swaddling clothes of azure smoke,

  it rose up, stumbled to its feet, but once more fell,

  wobbling and whimpering in the arms of Mother Night. 1250

  Then the witch doctor yelped, broke in a whirling dance

  and donned his springtime’s magic mantle, richly wrought

  with myriad clustered eggshells, dappled plumes of birds,

  and cast his witching spells to advise the infant sun:

  “Welcome, ah welcome, Sun, our dear belovèd pet! 1255

  Open your arms wide, lads, unlock your drowsy eyes,

  unsheathe your sleeping swords, set loose your hunting hounds,

  for the earth’s caught in labor pains, her belly aches,

  and her son staggers in her womb and kicks her belly!

  Come out on rocks, O Sun, leap downward toward the shore, 1260

  take up your ancient crafts once more and your old roads!

  O Sun, who like a peddler roam with your gold sacks,

  stay in our village for a while, spread out your goods,

  and we’ll press round and buy all the good things you’ve brought.

  You bring us grass and musk-deer and the blue-furred fox, 1265

  you bring us fishes in your nets, eggs in your lap,

  you bring the bridegroom and the babe to the maid’s breast.

  Break into dance and song, toss your heads high, my lads,

  cock-a-doodle-do, I cry, and flap my morning wings!”

  He crowed then like a cock with a hoarse voice, and maids 1270

  like decoy-birds broke in a bold dance round the youths

  who, as their ancient custom rites prescribed, began

  the double chant of spring, and to the maidens sang:

  “Ah, there’s no greater good on earth than your sweet kisses!

  The snows have melted, fish swim free in the warm waters, 1275

  earth sprouts with greening hair, thorns bloom and black rocks smile,

  our souls flood from our loins and seek another body;

  ah, maid with playful eyes, how sweet your kiss, your lips!”

  Then the maids clapped their hands in tune and bared their throats:

  “Your kiss is good, but better still the wedding ring!” 1280

  Again the young men took the tune as their veins swelled:

  “See what we’ve brought you, maids, two spheres of fragrant musk!

  Here are gold bells for your small ears, and ivory combs,

  and crimson coral neckrings for your unkissed throats.

  Give us a kiss, sweet maids, and take these precious gifts.” 1285

  But the maids laughed with playful eyes to arouse the youths:

  “We’d love to enjoy the fragrant spheres you bring as gifts,

  but we’ve two singing birds locked in a golden cage.

  Give us our rings, then break the cage and catch our birds!”

  For two days youths and maidens danced in mock word-war 1290

  as the youths sought the kiss and maids the wedding ring,

  till on the third day dowries and agreements closed.

  Thus wretched man rejoiced in one brief hour of kindness,

  but in the unpitying sky God called his messengers

  who had just then returned from earth with startling news: 1295

  “We saw a young pair sit alone and sweetly kiss

  and speak such tender words, we thought for a brief hour,

  —and caught our breaths—that the black earth had turned all sky!”

  “Oho, rush down, my heralds, swiftly kill them both!”

  “We saw a young
man sit under a willow’s shade 1300

  then stoop and clasp in his hard palms his flaming head;

  and in his mind, that gazed on the world’s decadence

  around him, he shaped dreams to open straight new roads

  and bring to earth all exiled virtues, justice, peace.”

  “Oho, rush down, my heralds, swiftly kill him too!” 1305

  “On the bank of a large river when the blizzard broke

  we saw a small and humble hut shine on a cliff,

  and when we peeked through its low windows we could see

  about the hearth four blond-haired children laugh and play

  as the glad mother gazed with pride and forgot God.” 1310

  “Oho, rush down, my heralds, swiftly kill them too!”

  Last came a pure-white herald, his wings weighed with snow:

  “Rebellious spring has returned to earth, may she be cursed!

  The peaks have thawed, and once again the shameless heads

  of grass and worm and idiot man thrust through to light 1315

  till at earth’s edge, although the ice has not well thawed,

  men mass in troops to trek down to their summer camps.

  They load their infants on their backs, their goods in carts,

  and a betrothed young couple hastes with joy to reach

  its goal, to pitch its tent on earth and sleep embraced!” 1320

  The sallow Old Man stooped and to his heralds hummed

  as slimy and green poisons dripped from his pale lips

  and his last cruel command hissed at his slavish troop:

  “Oho, rush down to earth, my heralds, swiftly kill them all!”

  Deathless Assassin, as with your faithful gang you talked, 1325

  waters on earth below moved sluggishly, earth slowly stirred,

  and the witch doctor dreamt and gave the sign to leave,

  for in deep sleep he’d heard the icelands crack and thaw.

  As light grew bolder and the day raised tender eyes,

  Odysseus donned his threefold hides and fox-fur cap, 1330

  thrust quickly through his leathern belt his two-edged ax,

  then seized his sealskinned kyak like a pointed spear,

  cast his glance softly round, browsed on the herds of men,

  then stood amid the bare snow-huts and cried farewell:

  “May every bite of fat you’ve fed me turn to children, 1335

  and may as many ancestral souls climb on these snows;

  may all your women fill as many jugs with milk

  to raise strong sons as jugs of water I’ve drunk here;

  and may as many swords flash for your sakes in air