then turned his fevered face toward hers as though just then 60
he’d carried to his forge and on his anvil placed
bronze metal white-hot from the fire for murderous swords.
Their Captain roared, “Quick, fellows, rig the sails, be off!
Our task is done!” Then all, wing-footed, rushed down toward the beach.
Evening had not yet faded, as on mountain slopes 65
night stepped with crimson feet like a wild partridge, slowly.
The tranquil evening veiled the world with sweet delight,
each heart in the breast’s branches perched like a calm bird
and sang night-long all it had feared to sing by day.
A girl sighed in her loneliness, and all leaves swayed, 70
a widow sent her longings out to browse at night,
and old king Menelaus fell on his terraced roof
and slowly shook his head like an exhausted hare.
He turned his crown in his pale hands and played with it
for many speechless hours while his mind raced far 75
on desolate shores, on steeds, on laughter, on white roads.
His motionless dry eyes looked southward steadily
as though they followed an unceasing falling star.
At that same hour the comrades leapt into their ship
and placed star-breasted Helen gently by the prow. 80
“Welcome, foam-born, our vessel’s gorgon figurehead
with your fate-written crystal on your warring breasts!”
Thus spoke the enduring archer, and his heart rejoiced
because the unknown far future always stormed and tossed him;
he never wanted earth to lose her virtue, raped by mind. 85
The sails and rigging creaked, the painted prow’s eyes glared,
till like a swimming steed the vessel plunged in foam
and reared with upright haunches in the streaming sea.
Astride the bowsprit, the light-headed piper yelled:
“Hey, fellows, may this holy voyage never end! 90
Ho, for a slender ship, for Helen at your side,
to sail the seas without a country endlessly!”
But Helen watched in silence the sea’s emerald wash,
the curly momentary foam, and joyed to feel
the seawind thrusting at her breasts like a man’s hands 95
and cool her deep down to her foam-smooth rosy heels,
nor turned her head at the port’s mouth to see that isle
which sweetly spread its shade and flowering grass for her 97
when once she twined limbs lovingly with handsome Paris
and shamed her household gods in an erotic swoon. 100
As the world-wanderer held the tiller, he recalled
far-distant shores, and wondered where to set his course.
Then as the warm stars glowed and thickened round the masts,
the men pressed close about the narrow deck to eat,
and the brave crew had never tasted bread more sweet 105
nor had a cooler mistral ever flicked their brows.
Man-loving Helen sighed with joy, for once again
men’s heavy odors rose, great cities shook once more,
and freedom’s wind blew once again about her brow.
She had not tasted such sweet bread for many years, 110
for many years no wind so sweet had touched her brow.
Strengthened with food, the gallants sat astride the thwarts
and all life in their entrails laughed like cooling wells
till in their minds fate blossomed like a crimson rose
and they, like scarabs, plundered all its golden honey. 115
These were not waves, nor this a scudding ship they rowed,
but they were wandering leaf by leaf a fragrant rose
till all their thighs and bellies filled with pollened gold.
Their minds shook in their haughty heads, the wide world shook,
though life was not a cooling waterdrop, nor fate a rose, 120
but they breathed Helen’s misty breath, and their minds shook.
Then Kentaur stroked his beard, opened his he-goat lips,
and with a wily voice spun truths and shameless lies
in a close web of slaves, rich wine, and golden castles, 125
and as he talked life turned to legend in his mind:
how slaves caressed him as he sprawled amid the wine-jugs,
how from the tower’s roof their master’s laughter plunged
and ate the strong foundations like a river’s rush,
then how he swooped on Helen with his eagle claws.
The horses scattered in the fields, doves in the courts, 130
until his comrades’ skulls struck sparks, echoed like stones,
so much had their blood-brother swept them with his guile.
But Rocky stood apart, leaning above the gunwale,
admiring flocks of black-white sheep, the goats that ran,
and other curly herds that pushed behind: a sea 135
packed full of sheep, the perifold of a Shepherd King.
Meanwhile their skipper spun strange cities in his mind;
he thought of sailing through waste seas of the far North
and like the male worm hang his beard with crystal ice;
of turning his prow boldly toward the distant South, 140
toward that dark land of savage beasts and crinkly men
for which the Cretan bard once opened the iron doors.
He longed for the black, aromatic shores of Africa,
land where the sun bakes bread and the full moon is milked.
“Welcome and hail, black brothers! I did not want to fall 145
and vanish beyond the waves before I bade goodbye.
I’ve heard that earth hangs down your neck like a huge drum;
now raise your hands, my brothers, beat it until it bursts!”
Thus murmured the deceiving mind of the world-roamer;
all things seemed beautiful, earth spread before his eyes, 150
a hand with five roads, luring onward toward the waves.
He bent above the black eyes of the swan-born mutely
to see where fate would moor them, but the godly one,
leaning upon her crystal arms, was idly dreaming:
a vine of thick grape-clusters grew above her head, 155
a cool and gentle wind through azure shadows blew,
and she, stark-naked on a black bull, ambled by, . . .
As the all-knowing man hung on her bosom’s cliff,
his great mind dimmed, his castle-skull began to shake,
and he yearned suddenly to cast his friends mid-sea 160
like dolphins, and to sail alone with Helen there;
meanwhile his masts would sprout with clusters of crisp grapes
and he would lie on vine leaves, fondle her with pride,
and in her womb entrust a son that one day would surpass him.
But as the archer horsewhipped man’s unruly passions, 165
Captain Clam climbed the mast to spy with careful watch
on wind and weather both amid the starry dark,
till on the deck abruptly his wild cry rang out:
“Fellows, take in the sails! A fierce North Wind comes plunging!”
The archer raised his eyes and like a dragon scanned 170
the lowering, wrathful clouds that on the billows cast
their savage claws and blindly dragged the heaving waves.
The hollow sound of thunder broke, and earth and sea
was zoned with lightning as though God flashed wrathful eyes
with fiery strokes for fear the new ship might escape, 175
that now sighed, bitter and profound, like man’s own heart,
Then the quick-tempered skipper bit his lips and yelled:
“You murderer, you! How long will you breathe down my back
or cleave
my skull with your sharp ax of lightning bolts?
For shame! Go hide your head! Have you no honor, God, 180
to take it out on man’s small nutshell of a ship?
I hoped you wouldn’t come just now because I feared
this flowering body that sails beside me here would drown;
you know I don’t care for myself or my harsh hounds,
but since you’ve deigned to come, hail then a thousand times!” 185
This sharp arraignment hung still on his bitter lips
when an enormous wave crashed on his battered head
till all his body, fingers, lips, and nostrils stung
as though unnumbered fiery sparks flared up and died.
Odysseus bit his flaming mustache hard, and mocked: 190
“That violent squall came close enough to prick me then!”
Poor Rocky tripped and staggered, grabbed at the rail with fear
as his proud body buckled, for these storm-tossed fields
made his young shinbones stagger till with shame he thrust
his face within his arms that smelled of savory still. 195
Waves kicked and struck the piper by the mizzenmast
and when salt blood ran from his gap-toothed mouth, he shrieked:
“Oho! I’m for the fishes now and a watery grave!
Spread out your hands, dear God, and save your silly songster;
I’ll bring you first-grade oil in monstrous buffalo skins!” 200
The coward vowed and whined, then plunged into the hold.
Waves rose like cutting scythes, swooped down and threshed the hull
until it buckled at the knees, reared high, plunged down,
sighed deeply, and like light foam danced on thundering foam.
The winds threshed at the sleepless crew all night till God 205
at daybreak hurled the dark sun like an iron quoit,
but still strong-souled Odysseus scoffed and gripped the tiller:
“Blow, foam-brained blabber-lips, choke in your own rage,
but get this through your head: you won’t eat our poor plank—
it grips its soul between its teeth and won’t give way!” 210
Two days and nights they fought with death, lunged down in waves
and then shot hurtling upward, and again crashed down.
On the third day the solid waves smashed the frail rudder
and all the dread gods of the sea with snarling roared
and shared with howls and laughter the still-living craft. 215
The South Wind claimed the archer, the Northeaster Helen,
and scornful Captain North Wind mocked at Captain Clam:
“What a fine curly beard! I’ll thrust it full of weeds
that eels and gudgeons may skid through and squirt their milt.
You’ve got my dander up, and I’m out for vengeance now!” 220
But Captain Clam flung back the words in North Wind’s teeth:
“You dolt! I’ve yet to eat much bread and gulp much wine
before my bones fall to your claws to be licked clean.
Come butt our hull in vain and break your puny horns!”
But Kentaur felt already through his hairy thighs 225
the stinging jellyfish and the black scuttling crabs.
Flat on his back in the drenched hold, he growled like a bull:
“Damned if I let you gulp me down without a fight!
When my time comes to croak, it’ll be on good firm earth!
Ah for a fresh green branch to whittle a small swritch; 230
you’d see then, Master Charon, how I’d lay about you!”
Granite and the slim shepherd, that landlubbery pair,
grabbed at each other, bit their lips, and then fell flat
lest fear—what shame!—should slip and pass their quaking throats.
On the third day a pointed head poked through the wineskins 235
like a whipped short-winded dog and whined in a shrill voice:
“Brothers, not one soul shall escape from pitch-black death;
our crime hangs heavily like a millstone round our necks.
God roars with thunderbolts and flashes through my head:
‘Give the waves sacrifice to expiate your crime!’” 240
The shrill voice finished and the pointed head at once
plunged in the hold and left a drenched and shaken crew;
all glared in silence toward the savage, tossing stern
where godly Helen lay amid the ropes entangled,
and Helen felt their furtive looks and shook with dread, 245
but scorned in her great pride to wail or weep or plead
or lean her breasts as suppliant on the men’s hard knees.
She had surpassed the common lot of women, and felt ashamed.
Hardihood rose in silence and his red stain swelled
and thrashed his savage face like a live octopus. 250
He strode across the thwarts toward the all-holy form
and for a flash the weather cleared and North Wind paused.
The great-graced lady thrust her face between her hands
and all life passed before her like an oar-winged dream,
a gold bird flown, a dulcet dizziness that vanished. 255
But as the bronzesmith lunged to seize those famous locks,
he suddenly clenched his fists and slowly turned away
and bit his red mustache with an ill-tempered shame.
Swift-eyed Odysseus, who ruled fate with sleepless eyes
and weighed the souls of his ship’s crew, yelled out with joy: 260
“Your health, O Hardihood, for in this difficult hour
you rose up proudly like a king and flouted Death!
Now, by the brand-new God I bear, I swear this oath:
on the first land where we shall moor, I’ll crown you king!”
But the boar-bristled boatman laughed with bitterness: 265
“Man, don’t you fret! We’ll never see dry land again!
But, even so, your words have wreathed my carrot-top
with a gold crown, and I shall drown like a true upright king!”
But then, as Granite seized the prow, flat on his face,
he spied an azure peak amid the spuming waves 270
tossing and gleaming on the heaving sea’s horizon.
“Ho! Land ahead!” he yelled, and all eyes pierced the spume.
Captain Clam tried for a long time to see earth’s face,
and the world-wanderer questioned in his laughing heart
where of all places the four winds had slung him now. 275
All strands seemed equally good to him to test man’s soul.
Then with great joy the old salt-tar yelled out: “It’s Crete!”
All hearts leapt up and tossed toward the all-holy mother,
and the sagacious man laughed low and said to his god:
“I begged for one breadloaf: you cast me ovens full; 280
one sip of wine: you gave me casks big as my body;
I begged for a small belt of land, a branch to grasp:
and lo, from waves you hand me Crete on a gold platter!
Thanks for the bite, it just exactly suits my hunger!”
Meanwhile the weather slowly cleared, the squalls calmed down, 285
and the storm-battered vessel raised its prow and sailed.
They tied their long oars to the rowlocks, the tholes creaked,
and keeping the isle in sight, plunged toward it, oar and sail.
Helen smiled thinly through her tears like the pale dawn;
the black locks round her temples tossed in the land breeze 290
as with drenched hair she gently touched the archer’s knees:
“I have some words to say, my dear, but my voice chokes.”
Yet as the sweet-voiced lady rose and saw his eyes,
she paled with fear and leant her head on his soaked chest.
De
ep in his bottomless eyes she saw Crete rise and fall 295
and break between his eyebrows like a foundering ship.
The leader of souls then stroked his beard in silent thought
and his sharp smile rose in a curve to his thick ears,
for, many-breasted, shameless, nude, Crete’s body spread
her practiced thighs amid the waves, swarming with merchants. 300
He’d often met their wealthy barques on distant shores
and marveled as they sauntered on the quays adorned
like birds with peacock plumes and bracelets of pure gold.
These acrid captains ate and drank till their guts burst,
they’d seen all, kissed and drained their bodies dry with lust, 305
till drenched in fine perfumes, fluttering their feathery fans,
they swooned now in the firm embrace of their black slaves.
Their fingers were all rotted, but their rings remained,
their empty loins were withered, but their thin skulls shone
with wide-eyed sophistry and brimmed with mocking smiles. 310
In their plush homes, the gods, demeaned to bric-a-brac,
cooped up like parrots in their cages of gold bars,
were hung in windows where with human voice they squawked
and cackled back those words which they were taught to say.
The archer nailed his eyes on the great, regal island, 315
and saw Crete stormed and tossed amid the heavy waves
like a rich galley overstuffed with precious wares.
They skimmed close till the peaks of Ida flashed serene
and towns shone white like dragon-eggs wedged in the clefts.
When Rocky smelled the earth, his soul filled up with loam; 320
he saw far off, high in the sun, the verdant fields
and longed to clamber up and hear the jangling goat-bells,
until his wedge-shaped beard perked up like a he-goat’s.
The two landlubbers broke in song, like partridges,
like cool cascading waters in a wooded gorge: 325
“God, to climb hills again, to clear our heads with air,
where blooms the haughty asphodel, where pine trees drip
with resin, where the dappled partridge spreads its wing!
Ah, that the girl I love might hear and bolt her door
with a thick spray of basil, fresh mint on her breast 330
for lookout, and the curled carnation for her sentry.”
Thus did the mountain lads pour out their hearts in song,
and rocks grew huge and savage, seashores opened wide
their arms like a crab’s claw until the battered prow
plunged groaning, like a bolting colt, in the port’s mouth. 335