Supporting himself on his strong hands, Odysseus rose
and groped at the ruins stone by stone to feel the grooves
of great suns that with myriad hand-rays stroked in love
princes with narrow skulls and maidens almond-eyed. 770
Like a night lamp the moon climbed with unruffled calm,
the broken mouths on the stone ruins wanly smiled,
and crimson paint still glimmered on their chiseled rims.
A bitter anguish gripped the castle-battler’s heart:
“Who knows what brains and bodies we tread on tonight!” 775
Thus did Odysseus cry, his mind boiled, his tholes cracked,
and Death dragged him in moonlight with a tightened noose.
His friends, meanwhile, had drowsed, for flesh had swept them off
and they had fallen to sleep like rain in thirsty sand.
A distance off, the archer smoothed a place to sleep, 780
but his blood seethed and sped like sleepless roaring streams.
For hours he fought off sleep in his clay threshing floor
because he had no wish to exchange his life for dreams
and longed to snatch more hours from tax-collecting Death,
but his mind dimmed and, sank like setting stars at sea. 785
He drowned in sleep, and the ghost of the Sun City seized him
till like a frisking dwarf, a guileless snake, he drove
ahead like a dream-driven sleeper and slid in earth.
Not even a breast’s light breathing nor the song of birds:
his soul like a slim flame flicked on his body’s wick 790
until he felt his mind detach itself, then fade
and enter like a pilgrim in a marble-studded town.
The towers, tombs and homes shone dimly like dull pearls,
snakes drowsed in tangled coils, and slimy bloated worms
drooped over doorways in long rows and decked the yards. 795
Most gentle and compassionate now, with shriveled flames,
the sun hung over Hades like a flickering lamp;
it spread its beams, and each ray like a human hand
with five long fingers lovingly caressed the world
till seeds, worms, waters shuddered with intense delight 800
and dead men stood in their low doorways, raised their hands,
and the light pierced their hollow chests as though through glass.
Then as the dream-drowned man rejoiced in the night gardens, 803
a gleaming tomb before him opened like a white rose
and a nude regal pair, like green-gold wingless insects, 805
came out embraced, and sat in sun on their white tomb.
The man was pale and slim, nor could his shoulders bear
the full weight of his luminous and towering brow;
his chest, his flanks, his thighs were curved like a young girl’s,
but his high forehead, ripening in the worshiped sun, 810
shone full of new gods, new seed, distant new desires.
Beside him lay the invincible queen of reed-slim fingers
who softly smiled with flaming lips and gave the king
a large gold-rayed sunflower with a deep-black heart.
Like insects after rain the two enraptured bodies 815
sunned themselves mutely on the tomb and sweetly merged,
but the king suddenly raised his downy, smothered eyes,
and as he gazed with calm on the night-roaming dreamer
and moved his sun-washed hands, the whole tomb gaped and swayed,
opened its arms and shouted with a speechless longing. 820
The great tomb-treader screamed and jumped among the ruins;
the sun had risen already a half-oar’s length and turned
the waters crimson as the thick light licked the sands
and hungry herons lined the riverbanks and stooped
for minnows, motionless, without the slightest sound. 825
Like a black-seeded sunflower by the riverside.
the heavy vision weighed in the archer’s aching palm,
the wind played round him and his shoulders shook as though
a swarm of spirits touched him with their downy wings.
“Shades have bewitched me! That royal pair begged me in sleep 830
to lift them out of Tartarus into sun once more!
Ah, don’t complain! May milk and honey calm your tomb!
Ill dig the earth at midnight, souls, and set you free!”
Thus did he brood that dawn, and weighed his firm decision well.
He turned back to the river where his friends, new-washed, 835
lay glittering on their backs on the sandbanks and ate
ripe stolen figs, soft skin and all, to cheat their hunger.
The sly contriver bid them a good day and said:
“Eat, make your loins strong, lads, I’ll need you all at dusk.
Last night, my friends, my brains gave birth to a strange dream, 840
and I’ll have need of four stout bodies to make it real.”
The piper grimaced wryly, and his arms felt numb,
but since he did not dare to speak, he-crouched on sand
and listened to his master spell his golden dream
and drip sweet honey drop by drop on their parched brains. 845
When the sleepwalker ceased, his hands with luster streamed
until the eyes of his crude crew lit up with gold.
Black ancient streams of blood awoke, long-smothered forebears
whose grandsons now grew wild, for ancient memory prowled
like dark wolves in their bowels until they burgled gardens 850
and stole sharp spades and crowbars for their long night’s task.
When night fell, the sly thieves began to dig with speed,
conquered their terror, nor spoke for fear the graveyard ghosts
would snatch their voices; hope of gain kept them awake.
Their five spades flashed with toil, their armpits dripped with sweat, 855
and soon their minds grew groggy for it seemed they dug
heap on high heap of souls and bodies till they heard
heads groaning at their feet and rotted shoulders moving.
But when the ground rang hollow, they leapt in the deep pit,
groped swiftly, found a bronze ring in the soil embedded, 860
then wedged their crowbars, raised the lid, climbed down the tomb
and crawled half-bent and fumbling in long passageways.
The piper lit some brushwood to support his heart,
for round them, lo! old gods and kings awoke in joy,
sweetly imprisoned in cool multicolored paints. 865
Stooping through tunnels, soon in the torch glare the friends
perceived a small door gleam, and at the doorpost loomed
two Negro sentries keeping guard in chiseled stone.
Startled, they gasped and staggered back in swift recoil,
but the archer sharply strode beyond the cobwebbed sill, 870
and the others followed and choked back loud cries of joy:
night gleamed like dawn from treasures piled in glittering heaps,
crowns and gold thrones and precious stones glowed in the dark
with two gold coffins thrust among them, wrought with emeralds.
Though terror seized them, they all held their breath, pried open 875
the rich-embellished lids, unwound the mummy-cloth,
then stooped with torches, and with startled eyes looked down
on a blessed royal pair in holy calm content.
Both on their bosoms held earth’s heavy golden keys;
the king was slim, his head was curved like a thin gourd, 880
and in his hands he held a golden disk, the sun;
the queen beside him was tall-bodied, with broad thighs,
and held a golden-rayed sunflower with emerald h
eart. 883
First the all-knowing man cut open a small vein
to soothe the dark earth-demons and not be driven mad, 885
and sprinkled both the sacred heads and golden crowns.
Then the grave-robbers swiftly stripped the regal heads,
plucked golden necklaces, huge suns, and emerald rings,
the rich adornments of the dead, winecups and swords,
until their hands with amber, gold, and rubies brimmed, 890
and overladen thus, they climbed out toward the glimmering light.
Day broke; a flaming sky smeared all the ruins with blood,
flamingoes slowly passed in their pursuit of food,
their small skiff almost sank, with golden plunder heaped,
but when they opened sail and left the haunted sands, 895
the comrades gazed upon their laden ship with dread,
for now it seemed they sailed within a golden coffin.
They searched each other’s face, but no joy lit their eyes,
for their mute souls were paralyzed and leaden-heavy.
Thus hours passed in silence, and no one thought of food, 900
each secretly planned how he might best enjoy his wealth,
and each man frowned and glowered in his turbid brain.
Each in his mind built rich town mansions, double-storied,
with laden tables, wild carousing night and day,
and with three sirens—women, drunkenness, and sloth— 905
who sang until the pale soul drowned in pleasure’s sewers.
But all at once Odysseus rose, grabbed a gold crown,
stretched his arms wide and flung it in the river’s stream,
silently filled and emptied his full fists once more,
and scooped up last of all a handful of red rubies, 910
flung them in shimmering showers toward the sun from where
they fell like clotted drops of blood on the red foam.
Then Granite sprang and grasped his loot in both his fists,
amber and emeralds, golden demons and flaxen cloth,
and Rocky kicked with wrath into the gaping stream 915
his golden-leafed sunflower and silver-hilted sword.
Broad-buttocked Kentaur sighed and turned to his sea-captain:
“By God, you bend us like a bow until the tight gut snap!
If I surpass my coarse-grained nature unwillingly,
it’s not because you’ve shamed me! It’s just that I’m big-hearted!” 920
He spoke and fondled lovingly a golden goddess
he’d kept hid in his breast, then flung her with bad grace,
and his stone-studded heavy winecups and gold jars.
And Orpheus, who had plundered but an ivory flute,
gulped dryly with dismay and to his master cried: 925
“I’ve snatched up just one wretched flute! Please, please, dear master,
don’t frown, please let me keep it for remembrance only!”
But the archer glanced with scorn at the still hungry waves
till from the blushing piper’s hands the pale flute slipped
and vanished in muddy waters like a silver smelt. 930
All day they sailed the river without food or talk,
burdened with shame, nor looked into each other’s eyes.
How thin the rind of honor and the crust of freedom!
We spin vast works in our proud minds, and with great toil
push up our muddy bodies to reach the godly peaks, 935
then flash! a moment’s pleasure, and we’re once more widowed!
Such thoughts seethed in the comrades’ chests, but they kept mute,
and when cool evening fell, the wise man raised his voice:
“Brothers, you know how much I, too, hate poverty,
and yet today I suddenly felt our souls weighed down 940
with gold, unable to walk lightly, and I thought:
‘Riches are good and they can buy the entire world,
but best is that proud hand that flings them to the winds’;
and that, my lads, is when I flung my hands above the river!”
Though poverty pressed once more, they rowed with joy next day 945
and kept their minds sweet, brooding on their sacrifice
as freedom rose in their proud ship and swelled like sails.
With bitter litanies the landlords wept and wailed,
for their stone-hearted god, the river, still refused
to fling his fertile strength upon his wife, the earth; 950
and wheat, that stalwart athlete, lay in his furrow, dead,
as round him the poor peasants knelt in shrill lament.
Black-kerchiefed mothers by the dry bank’s foaming lips
beat on the dust and called to their dead son, the wheat:
“O my sweet darling child, come toss your golden head, 955
scatter the soil, thrust through, cast off your stifling tomb!
Dear son, sprawl on the upper world, make the fields green!”
Thus did they weep their tiny yet almighty god,
and the crew-comrades pierced downstream through Egypt’s soil,
while spite, like a black hawk, perched on their pointed prow. 960
The piper’s brains one morning shone like a red rose,
for Helen’s decoy breasts passed through his muddled mind.
But she, far off on the blue sea, on that great island,
lay stretched on pure-white bedsheets, and her gentle eyes
gazed proudly on her son asleep in a rush basket, 965
An old nurse bent above the newborn infant son,
filled him with strength and blessed him like a goodly fate.
She rubbed his scalp with salt to flavor his strong mind,
soaked him in wine that he might hold his own in drinking,
then roasted crabs, ground them to powder, and smeared his mouth 970
that he might grow new sets of teeth in his old age,
and spread his hands with scorpion ash that they might fling
fistfuls of knives on foes, kisses on faithful friends.
Then last of all she placed the child on a white he-goat
so that his loins might strengthen for the erotic wars, 975
and when the mystic armoring of the babe had ended,
she wrapped him in warm skins and gave him to his mother
to suckle sweetly her first drop of taintless milk
that he might pass untroubled then through earth’s grim threshold.
“Iron-strong mother, may your dragon-son live long, 980
and may the world sing songs one day of his great deeds!”
The mother smiled, and when she bared her laden breasts,
casements and doors glowed suddenly, and far, far off
on Egypt’s sun-scorched sands, the piper’s brain blazed up
till his mind whirled with vertigo and his heart pulsed: 985
“Oho! A north wind blows, and Helen sweeps my mind!
What’s happening, comrades, now, to her world-famous body?”
But his broad-bottomed friend rowed swiftly with deep sighs:
“Don’t twist your neck off looking backward, my fine friend!
That arch-eyed form was a sweet dream, but the cock crowed, 990
ahoy! and the past has passed like billows and rolled away!
New dreams come smothering down, my startled ears perk up,
and my heart aches to hear these cries of hunger now.
Alas, I pity the poor children! They’ll all starve!”
Then looking toward the sands, their knowing guide replied: 995
“Brothers, my heart breaks too, but mends as soon as broken.
Hunger’s a mighty goddess; she, too, will lead us well.
She strides straight on with a black banner, her dugs hang down,
behind her crawls a horde of pallid children screaming,
but from the
ir shrieks one day a brave new tune will rise. 1000
If I could choose what gods to carry on all my ships,
I’d choose both War and Hunger, that fierce, fruitful pair!”
Thus did the strong man feed his crew with lion-brains,
and Granite winked at him and laughed to hear his words:
“Don’t get all worked up, captain! Unless I’m sore mistaken 1005
those two dread gods your heart desires sail with, us now!”
The foxy-minded man then grinned and scratched his beard:
“Don’t worry, friend, I know quite well they’ve crashed the hold—
that’s why I’ve prinked and pranked them up with flattery so.”
He spoke, then sat cross-legged and sank in brooding thought; 1010
his mind bloomed like a thorny thistle on a cliff’s edge,
ruthless, alone, with one untouched pure drop of honey
hid in its thorns, and he rejoiced in his great secret.
Days moved on sluggishly like wide banana leaves,
the nights stretched out beside them like cool Negresses, 1015
the desert crawled on its starved belly, a fierce tiger,
and the crew shuddered, but the border-guard rejoiced,
for deep inside he felt cool wells, greenswards, and laughter,
and from his brain the mighty cloven river rolled
like a wide blood-vein round his temples, his thick neck, 1020
his chest and thighs, and laved him and refreshed him wholly.
Like a huge lobster with red claws that seethed with wrath,
the sun boiled up next day, simmered on the hot sands
till date trees leapt in the red light like fountaining flame.
To give his weary oarsmen courage, their coxswain yelled: 1025
“Take heart, my lads, the Holy City is not far off; 1026
I smell huge highways, noble mansions, fragrant groves,
and there upon that distant hill, huge dragon-columns;
I prick my ears up and the crowded streets resound
as though a beehive dropped on this broad stream, and broke.” 1030
Then his crew rowed with courage till their small skiff shook,
but as the lone man gazed far off and his mind strolled
on desolate mountain peaks, the piper burst in song:
“Eh, scarabs, golden scarabs, watch us breach the rose!
Quick-tempered archer, keep your wits, don’t start a brawl, 1035
don’t think you’ll force the swerving earth to your own course,
don’t put a spike in God’s good plan, don’t stick your oar in,
make of your heart a beehive now, plunder the flowers