Book 5

1 Now Dawn rose from her bed beside lordly Tithonus, to bring light to the immortals and to mortal men; and the gods sat down in assembly, and among them Zeus, the high-thundering, whose power is greatest. Athena was telling them of the many sorrows of Odysseus, calling them to mind; for it weighed on her that he was still in the house of the nymph:

7 “Father Zeus and you other blessed gods who live forever, let no sceptered king ever again be eager to be gentle and kind, or have justice at heart; let him always be harsh and do what is wicked, since no one remembers godlike Odysseus among the people he ruled, though he was as gentle with them as a father. He lies on an island, suffering bitter pains, in the halls of the nymph Calypso, who keeps him there by force; and he cannot reach his native land, for he has no ships with oars and no companions to carry him over the broad back of the sea. And now they are bent on killing his beloved son on his way home. He went to holy Pylos and to bright Lacedaemon to hear news of his father.”

21 Then Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her: “My child, what a word has escaped the fence of your teeth! Was this not your own plan, that Odysseus should come home and take vengeance on those men? As for Telemachus, guide him with skill, for you can, so that he may reach his native land quite unharmed, and the suitors sail back in their ship with nothing done.”

28 He spoke, and turned to Hermes, his dear son: “Hermes, since you are our messenger in all other things, tell the lovely-haired nymph our unerring decree, the homecoming of steadfast Odysseus: that he is to go home with no escort of gods or of mortal men. On a raft lashed with many bonds, suffering hardships, he shall come on the twentieth day to deep-soiled Scheria, the land of the Phaeacians, who are near to the gods. They will honor him with all their hearts as if he were a god, and send him in a ship to his own native land, after giving him bronze and gold in plenty, and clothing, more than Odysseus would ever have won for himself from Troy if he had come home unharmed with his share of the spoils. For so it is his fate to see his friends and to reach his high-roofed house and his own native land.”

43 So he spoke, and the guide, slayer of Argus, did not disobey. At once he bound on his feet his beautiful sandals, immortal, golden, which carried him over the water and over the boundless earth as swift as the gusts of the wind. He took the wand with which he charms the eyes of men, of whomever he wishes, and wakes others again from sleep; with this in his hands the strong slayer of Argus flew. Setting foot on Pieria, he dropped from the upper air to the sea, and then sped over the waves like a gull, which hunts for fish down the dread gulfs of the barren sea and wets its thick plumage in the brine: like this Hermes rode over the many waves. But when he came to the island that lay far off, he stepped out of the violet sea onto the land and walked on until he came to the great cave where the lovely-haired nymph lived; and he found her at home. A great fire was burning on the hearth, and far across the island spread the scent of split cedar and citron wood as they burned. Inside, she was singing in a lovely voice as she moved back and forth before the loom, weaving with a golden shuttle. Around the cave grew a flourishing wood, alder and poplar and fragrant cypress, and there long-winged birds made their nests, owls and hawks and long-tongued sea crows that ply their work on the sea. And there around the hollow cave a garden vine in its prime spread out, heavy with clusters of grapes. Four springs in a row ran with clear water, close to one another, turned this way and that, and around them soft meadows of violets and parsley were in bloom. Even an immortal who came there would gaze in wonder at the sight and be delighted in his heart. There the guide, slayer of Argus, stood and gazed. And when he had gazed his fill at everything in his heart, he went at once into the wide cave. Calypso, bright among goddesses, did not fail to know him when she saw him face to face; for the gods, the immortals, are not strangers to one another, even if one lives in a house far away. But he did not find great-hearted Odysseus inside. He sat weeping on the shore, as he had before, racking his heart with tears and groans and pain, and he would gaze out over the barren sea, shedding tears. Calypso, bright among goddesses, seated Hermes on a shining, glittering chair and questioned him:

87 “Why have you come to me, Hermes of the golden wand, honored and dear? You have not been a frequent visitor before. Say what is on your mind; my heart bids me do what you ask, if I can do it and if it is a thing that can be done. But come farther in, so that I may set a guest’s welcome before you.”

92 So the goddess spoke, and set a table beside him heaped with ambrosia, and mixed the red nectar. So the guide, slayer of Argus, drank and ate. And when he had dined and satisfied his heart with food, he answered her and said:

97 “You ask me, goddess to god, why I have come; and I will tell you the truth of it, since you bid me. It was Zeus who told me to come here, though I did not want to. Who would willingly speed across so much salt water, more than words can tell? And there is no city of mortals near, who offer the gods sacrifices and choice hecatombs. But there is no way for any other god to get past the purpose of Zeus who holds the aegis, or to make it vain. He says there is a man here with you, the most wretched of all those men who fought around the city of Priam for nine years, and in the tenth sacked the city and set off for home. But on the way home they sinned against Athena, and she roused an evil wind against them and towering waves. There all his other good companions perished, but the wind and the waves carried him here and brought him to this shore. Now Zeus bids you send him away as quickly as you can; for it is not his lot to die here, far from his friends, but it is still his fate to see his friends and to reach his high-roofed house and his own native land.”

116 So he spoke, and Calypso, bright among goddesses, shuddered, and she spoke to him, and her words had wings: “You are cruel, you gods, and jealous beyond all others, you who resent it when goddesses sleep openly with men, if one of us makes a mortal her dear bedfellow. So it was when rose-fingered Dawn took Orion: you gods who live at ease resented her, until in Ortygia pure Artemis of the golden throne came upon him with her gentle arrows and killed him. So it was when lovely-haired Demeter yielded to her heart and lay in love with Iasion in a thrice-plowed fallow field; and Zeus was not long in hearing of it, and he struck Iasion with his white lightning and killed him. And so now again you gods resent me, because a mortal man is with me. It was I who saved him, when he was straddling the keel all alone, after Zeus had struck his swift ship with white lightning and shattered it in the middle of the wine-dark sea. There all his other good companions perished, but the wind and the waves carried him here and brought him to this shore. I loved him and cared for him, and I used to say that I would make him immortal and ageless all his days. But since there is no way for any other god to get past the purpose of Zeus who holds the aegis, or to make it vain, let him go, if Zeus urges and commands it, out over the barren sea. But I will not send him off, not I; for I have no ships with oars and no companions to carry him over the broad back of the sea. Still, I will gladly advise him and hide nothing, so that he may reach his native land quite unharmed.”

145 Then the guide, slayer of Argus, said to her: “Send him off now, then, and beware the anger of Zeus, or he may hold a grudge against you hereafter and be hard on you.”

148 So he spoke, and the strong slayer of Argus departed; and the lady nymph went to great-hearted Odysseus, now that she had heard the message of Zeus. She found him sitting on the shore. His eyes were never dry of tears, and his sweet life was ebbing away as he mourned for his return, since the nymph no longer pleased him. At night, it is true, he slept beside her in the hollow cave, because he must, unwilling beside a willing woman; but by day he would sit on the rocks and the beaches, racking his heart with tears and groans and pain, and he would gaze out over the barren sea, shedding tears. Bright among goddesses, she stood close beside him and spoke:

160 “Poor man, do not grieve here any longer, and do not let your life waste away; for now I will send you off with a ready heart. Come, cut long beams with the bronze and fit them together into a broad raft, and fix a deck on it high up, so that it may carry you over the misty sea. And I will put on board bread and water and red wine, as much as you want, to keep hunger from you, and I will dress you in clothes, and send a fair wind behind you, so that you may reach your native land quite unharmed, if the gods are willing who hold the wide sky; for they are stronger than I am, both to plan and to accomplish.”

171 So she spoke, and much-enduring noble Odysseus shuddered, and he spoke to her, and his words had wings: “It is something else you are planning, goddess, and not my passage home, when you tell me to cross the great gulf of the sea on a raft, dread and hard as it is. Not even swift ships with balanced hulls cross it, even when they exult in a fair wind from Zeus. I will not set foot on a raft against your will, unless you bring yourself, goddess, to swear me a great oath that you will not plot some other evil harm against me.”

180 So he spoke, and Calypso, bright among goddesses, smiled, and she stroked him with her hand, and spoke to him and called him by name: “What a rogue you are, and no fool, to think of saying such a thing! Let earth be my witness now, and the wide sky above, and the down-flowing water of the Styx, which is the greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods, that I will not plot some other evil harm against you. No: I am thinking and planning for you just what I would devise for myself, if such need came upon me. For my mind too is just, and the heart in my breast is not made of iron; it knows pity.”

192 So she spoke, bright among goddesses, and quickly led the way, and he followed in the goddess’s footsteps. They came to the hollow cave, the goddess and the man, and he sat down on the chair from which Hermes had risen, and the nymph set before him every kind of food and drink, such as mortal men eat. She herself sat facing godlike Odysseus, and her maids set ambrosia and nectar before her. And they put out their hands to the good things that lay ready before them. But when they had taken their fill of food and drink, Calypso, bright among goddesses, began to speak:

203 “Son of Laertes, sprung from Zeus, resourceful Odysseus, so you want to go home to your own native land now, right away? Then farewell, even so. Yet if you knew in your heart how many sorrows it is your fate to fill up before you reach your native land, you would stay here with me and keep this house, and be immortal, however much you long to see your wife, whom you yearn for all your days. Surely I can claim to be no worse than she is, in form or in stature, since it is not fitting for mortal women to vie with immortals in form and beauty.”

214 Odysseus of many wiles answered her: “Lady goddess, do not be angry with me for this. I know very well myself that prudent Penelope is less than you in beauty and stature to look upon; for she is mortal, and you are immortal and ageless. But even so I want, and I long all my days, to go home and see the day of return. And if some god wrecks me again on the wine-dark sea, I will endure it, with a heart in my breast that is patient under sorrow; for I have already suffered very much and toiled much, in the waves and in war. Let this be added to the rest.”

225 So he spoke, and the sun went down and darkness came on; and the two of them went into the inmost part of the hollow cave and took their pleasure in love, side by side.

228 When early-born Dawn appeared, the rose-fingered, Odysseus at once put on his cloak and tunic, and the nymph put on a great mantle, shining white, fine-spun and graceful, and around her waist she clasped a lovely golden belt, and on her head she put a veil. Then she set about the sending of great-hearted Odysseus on his way. She gave him a great axe that fit his hands, of bronze, sharpened on both sides, with a fine handle of olive wood fixed firmly in it; then she gave him a polished adze. Then she led the way to the far end of the island, where tall trees grew, alder and poplar and fir that reached to the sky, long dead and well seasoned, which would float lightly for him. And when she had shown him where the tall trees grew, Calypso, bright among goddesses, went back to her house, and he set to cutting timber, and the work went quickly. Twenty trees in all he felled, and trimmed them with the bronze, and smoothed them skillfully and made them straight to the line. Then Calypso, bright among goddesses, brought him augers; and he bored all the beams and fitted them to one another, and hammered the raft together with pegs and joints. As wide as a man well skilled in carpentry lays out the floor of a broad-beamed cargo ship, so wide Odysseus made his raft. He set up the deck, fitting it to close-set uprights, and worked on, and finished it off with long side planks. He set a mast in it and a yard fitted to it, and he made a steering oar besides, to steer with. He fenced it all along with wicker of willow, to be a bulwark against the waves, and heaped much brushwood on the floor. Then Calypso, bright among goddesses, brought cloth to make a sail; and he fashioned that well too. He made fast the braces and the halyards and the sheets, and then with levers he hauled the raft down into the bright sea.

262 It was the fourth day, and everything was finished. On the fifth, bright Calypso sent him from the island, after she had bathed him and dressed him in fragrant clothes. The goddess put on board for him one skin of dark wine and another, a large one, of water, and provisions in a bag, and she put in many good things to eat, all that his heart could want; and she sent a wind blowing behind him, gentle and warm. Glad of the wind, noble Odysseus spread his sail. He sat and steered skillfully with the steering oar, and sleep never fell on his eyelids as he watched the Pleiades, and Boötes, who sets late, and the Bear, which men also call the Wagon, which turns in its place and keeps watch on Orion, and alone has no share in the baths of Ocean. For Calypso, bright among goddesses, had told him to keep the Bear on his left hand as he crossed the sea. Seventeen days he sailed, crossing the sea, and on the eighteenth the shadowy mountains of the land of the Phaeacians came into sight, where it lay nearest to him; and it looked like a shield laid on the misty sea.

282 But the lord Earth-shaker, coming back from the Ethiopians, saw him from far off, from the mountains of the Solymi; for Odysseus came into his sight sailing over the sea. His anger rose still higher in his heart, and shaking his head he spoke to his own heart:

286 “Oh, for shame! So the gods have changed their minds about Odysseus while I was among the Ethiopians. And now he is close to the land of the Phaeacians, where it is his fate to escape the great snare of misery that has come upon him. But even so, I think I will drive him to his fill of trouble yet.”

291 So saying, he gathered the clouds and stirred up the sea, gripping his trident in his hands; he roused all the blasts of every kind of wind, and covered earth and sea alike with clouds; and night rushed down from the sky. The East Wind and the South Wind fell on together, and the stormy West Wind, and the North Wind, born in the bright air, rolling a great wave before him. Then Odysseus’s knees and his heart went slack, and troubled, he spoke to his own great heart:

299 “Ah, wretched me! What will become of me at last? I fear that everything the goddess said was true, when she told me that I would fill up my measure of sorrows on the sea before I reached my native land; and now it is all coming to pass. With such clouds Zeus is crowning the wide sky, and he has stirred up the sea, and the blasts of every kind of wind rush on. Now my sheer destruction is certain. Three times blessed were the Danaans, and four times, who died then in wide Troy, doing a kindness to the sons of Atreus. If only I had died and met my fate on that day when the Trojans in their numbers hurled their bronze-tipped spears at me around the dead son of Peleus! Then I would have had my funeral rites, and the Achaeans would have spread my fame. But now it is my fate to be caught by a miserable death.”

313 As he spoke, a great wave struck down on him from above, rushing on terribly, and whirled the raft around. He was thrown far from the raft, and the steering oar flew from his hands; and a dread blast of tangled winds came and snapped the mast in the middle, and sail and yard fell far off into the sea. The wave held him under for a long time, and he could not rise quickly from beneath the onrush of the great wave, for the clothes that bright Calypso had given him weighed him down. At last he came up, and spat out of his mouth the bitter brine that ran streaming down from his head. Even so he did not forget the raft, spent as he was, but lunged after it among the waves and caught hold of it, and sat down in the middle of it, escaping the end of death. The great wave carried it this way and that with the current. As when in autumn the North Wind carries thistle tufts over the plain, and they cling close to one another, so the winds carried the raft this way and that over the open sea: now the South Wind would toss it to the North Wind to carry, now the East Wind would give it up to the West Wind to chase.

333 But the daughter of Cadmus saw him, Ino of the lovely ankles, Leucothea, who was once a mortal with human speech, but now in the depths of the sea has won a share of honor from the gods. She pitied Odysseus as he drifted, suffering pains, and rising from the water like a shearwater on the wing, she sat on the raft lashed with many bonds and said to him:

339 “Poor man, why is Poseidon the Earth-shaker so terribly enraged with you, that he sows so many evils for you? Still, he will not destroy you, however much he wants to. Do just this, for you seem to me not without sense: strip off these clothes and leave the raft for the winds to carry, and swim with your arms and strive to reach the land of the Phaeacians, where it is your fate to escape. Here, take this veil and stretch it under your chest; it is immortal, and you need have no fear of suffering harm or dying. But when you have laid hold of the land with your hands, untie it and throw it back into the wine-dark sea, far out from the land, and turn your face away.”

351 So the goddess spoke and gave him the veil, and she herself dived back into the surging sea, like a shearwater, and the dark wave hid her. But much-enduring noble Odysseus pondered, and troubled, he spoke to his own great heart:

356 “Ah me, let it not be another of the immortals weaving a trick for me, telling me to leave the raft! No, I will not obey yet, for I saw with my own eyes how far off the land is where she said I would find refuge. This is what I will do, and it seems best to me: as long as the timbers hold together in their joints, I will stay here and endure, suffering pains; but when the wave has shaken my raft to pieces, I will swim, since there is nothing better to be thought of.”

365 While he pondered this in his mind and heart, Poseidon the Earth-shaker raised a great wave, dread and hard, arching over him, and drove it down on him. As a strong wind tosses a heap of dry chaff and scatters it this way and that, so the wave scattered the long timbers of the raft. But Odysseus straddled one beam, as a man rides a horse, and stripped off the clothes that bright Calypso had given him. At once he stretched the veil under his chest, and plunged headlong into the sea with his arms spread wide, eager to swim. And the lord Earth-shaker saw him, and shaking his head he spoke to his own heart:

377 “So now, after all your sufferings, wander over the sea until you come among men who are Zeus-nurtured. Even so, I do not think you will complain that you have had too little trouble.”

380 So saying, he lashed his long-maned horses and came to Aegae, where his famous palace stands.

382 But Athena, daughter of Zeus, had another thought. She bound up the paths of the other winds and ordered them all to cease and be lulled to rest; and she roused the swift North Wind and broke the waves before him, so that Odysseus, sprung from Zeus, might come among the oar-loving Phaeacians, escaping death and the spirits of doom.

388 For two nights then and two days he was driven over the swelling waves, and many times his heart foresaw destruction. But when lovely-haired Dawn brought the third day to its fullness, then the wind dropped and there was a windless calm; and he saw the land close by, peering sharply ahead as a great wave lifted him. As welcome as a father’s life is to his children when he lies sick, suffering bitter pains, long wasting away, for some hateful spirit has assailed him, and then, to their joy, the gods free him from his trouble: so welcome to Odysseus were the land and the woods, and he swam on, straining to set his feet on the land. But when he was as far off as a man’s shout carries, he heard the thunder of the sea on the reefs. The great wave roared against the dry shore, belching terribly, and everything was wrapped in the foam of the sea; for there were no harbors to hold ships, no sheltered roadsteads, but jutting headlands and reefs and crags. Then Odysseus’s knees and his heart went slack, and troubled, he spoke to his own great heart:

408 “Ah me, now that Zeus has granted me to see land beyond my hope, and I have cut my way across this gulf to the end, there is no way out of the gray sea anywhere to be seen. Out in front are sharp crags, and around them the wave roars and surges, and the rock runs up sheer and smooth, and the sea is deep close in, and there is nowhere to stand on both feet and escape from trouble. As I climb out, a great wave may snatch me and dash me against the jagged rock, and all my striving will be in vain. And if I swim on farther along the coast, in the hope of finding beaches that slope to the waves, or harbors of the sea, I fear that the storm wind may snatch me up again and carry me, groaning heavily, out over the fish-filled sea; or some god may send a great sea monster against me from the deep, such as famous Amphitrite breeds in great numbers; for I know how the famous Earth-shaker is enraged with me.”

424 While he pondered this in his mind and heart, a great wave carried him onto the rugged shore. There his skin would have been stripped off and his bones crushed, had not the goddess, gray-eyed Athena, put a thought in his mind. He rushed in and seized the rock with both hands and clung to it, groaning, until the great wave went past. That one he escaped; but the backwash struck him again as it rushed out and flung him far into the sea. As when an octopus is dragged from its den and many pebbles cling to its suckers, so the skin was torn from his bold hands against the rocks; and the great wave covered him. Then wretched Odysseus would have perished beyond his fate, had not gray-eyed Athena given him presence of mind. Rising out of the wave where it belched against the land, he swam along outside it, looking toward the land, in the hope of finding beaches that slope to the waves, or harbors of the sea. But when, as he swam, he came to the mouth of a fair-flowing river, there the place seemed best to him, clear of rocks, with shelter from the wind; and he knew the river as it flowed out, and prayed to it in his heart:

445 “Hear me, lord, whoever you are. I come to you, to whom so many prayers are made, fleeing out of the sea from the threats of Poseidon. Even to the immortal gods a man is to be revered who comes as a wanderer, as I now come to your stream and to your knees after many toils. Have pity, lord: I declare myself your suppliant.”

451 So he spoke, and at once the river stopped his current and held back the wave, and made a calm before him, and brought him safe into the river’s mouth. He let both his knees and his strong hands go limp, for the sea had overpowered his heart. All his flesh was swollen, and seawater gushed in streams from his mouth and nostrils. He lay breathless and speechless, barely alive, and a terrible weariness came over him. But when he got his breath back and the spirit gathered again in his heart, he untied the goddess’s veil from his body and let it drop into the river where it flows into the sea; and a great wave carried it back down the current, and Ino quickly took it in her own hands. And he turned away from the river and sank down in the reeds, and kissed the grain-giving land. Troubled, he spoke to his own great heart:

465 “Ah me, what will happen to me? What will become of me at last? If I keep watch through the comfortless night here by the river, I fear the cruel frost and the fresh dew together may overcome me, worn out as I am, with my spirit faint; and a cold breeze blows from a river just before dawn. But if I climb up the slope into the shady wood and lie down to sleep in the thick bushes, hoping the cold and weariness may let me go and sweet sleep come over me, I fear I may become prey and spoil for wild beasts.”

474 As he thought it over, this seemed the better course. He went into the wood, and found it near the water in an open place, and crept under two bushes that grew from the same spot, one of wild olive, one of olive. Through them the force of the wet winds never blew, nor did the shining sun ever strike them with its rays, nor did the rain pass through, so thickly did they grow, interlaced with each other; and under them Odysseus crept. At once he heaped up a broad bed with his own hands, for there was a great fall of leaves there, enough to shelter two men or three in the winter season, however hard the weather. When much-enduring noble Odysseus saw it he was glad, and he lay down in the middle and heaped the fallen leaves over himself. As a man buries a firebrand in dark ashes at the edge of his land, where he has no neighbors near, saving the seed of fire so that he need not go elsewhere to kindle it: so Odysseus covered himself with leaves. And Athena poured sleep on his eyes, closing his eyelids, so that it might quickly release him from his painful weariness.