Homer
reputed author of the Iliad and the Odyssey
Homer (Ancient Greek: Ὅμηρος) is best known as the author of the Iliad and the Odyssey. He was believed by the ancient Greeks to have been the first and greatest of the epic poets. Author of the first known literature of Europe, he is central to the Western canon.
![](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/1c/Homer_British_Museum.jpg/220px-Homer_British_Museum.jpg)
Quotes
edit- Book I
Μ ῆν ι ν ἄειδε, θεά, Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆοςο ὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί᾽ Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε᾽ ἔθηκε,π ο λ λ ὰςδ ᾽ ἰφθίμουςψ υ χ ὰς Ἄϊδι προΐαψεν
ἡρώων,α ὐτ ο ὺςδ ὲ ἑλώριατ ε ῦχ ε κύνεσσινο ἰω ν ο ῖσίτ ε π ᾶσ ι .- Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds. - I. 1–5 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
Δ ι ὸςδ ’ ἐτελείετο βουλή.- The will of Zeus was accomplished.
- I. 5 (tr. Richmond Lattimore).
Π α ρ ὰθ ῖν α πολυφλοίσβοιο θαλάσσης.- Along the shore of the loud-roaring sea.
- I. 34.
Κ α ὶ γάρτ ' ὄναρ ἐκ Διός ἐστιν.- Dreams come from Zeus.
- I. 63.
- Ἔ
π ε α πτερόεντα.- Winged words.
- I. 201; Iliad and Odyssey, passim.
- Ὅς
κ ε θ ε ο ῖς ἐπιπείθηται μάλατ ' ἔκλυονα ὐτ ο ῦ.- If any man obeys the gods, they listen to him also.
- I. 218 (tr. Richmond Lattimore).
Ο ἰνοβαρές,κ υ ν ὸς ὄμματ' ἔχ ω ν , κραδίηνδ ' ἐλάφοιο.- You wine sack, with a dog's eyes, with a deer's heart.
- I. 225 (tr. Richmond Lattimore); Achilles to Agamemnon.
Τ ο ῦκ α ὶ ἀπ ὸ γλώσσης μέλιτος γλυκίων ῥέενα ὐδή.- From whose lips the streams of words ran sweeter than honey.
- I. 249 (tr. Richmond Lattimore); of Nestor.
Ο ὐδέτ ι ο ἶδ ε ν ο ῆσαι ἅμ α πρόσσωκ α ὶ ὀπίσσω.- He lacks the sense to see a day behind, a day ahead.
- I. 343 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς.
- Rosy-fingered Dawn.
- I. 477 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Ἦ
κ α ὶ κυανέῃσ ι ν ἐπ ' ὀφρύσιν ε ῦσ ε Κρονίων·
ἀμβρόσιαιδ ' ἄρ α χ α ῖται ἐπ ε ῤῥώσαντο ἄνακτοςκ ρ α τ ὸς ἀπ ' ἀθανάτοιο· μέγανδ ' ἐλέλιξεν Ὄλυμπον.- He spoke, the son of Kronos, and nodded his head with the dark brows,
and the immortally anointed hair of the great god
swept from his divine head, and all Olympos was shaken. - I. 528–530 (tr. Richmond Lattimore).
- He spoke, the son of Kronos, and nodded his head with the dark brows,
- Ἄσβεστος
δ ' ἄρ ' ἐν ῶρ τ ο γέλως μακάρεσσιθ ε ο ῖσ ι ν
ὡς ἴδ ο ν Ἥφαιστονδ ι ὰ δώματα ποιπνύοντα.- And uncontrollable laughter broke from the happy gods
as they watched the god of fire breathing hard
and bustling through the halls. - I. 599–600 (tr. Robert Fagles); whence the expression "Homeric laughter".
- And uncontrollable laughter broke from the happy gods
- Book II
Ο ὐκ ἀγαθὸν πολυκοιρανίη·ε ἷς κοίρανος ἔσ τ ω ,ε ἷς βασιλεύς.- Lordship for many is no good thing. Let there be one ruler,
one king. - II. 204–205 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- Lordship for many is no good thing. Let there be one ruler,
- Μένεα πνείοντες.
- Breathing fury.
- II. 536 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Book III
- Μή
μ ο ι δ ῶρ ' ἐρατὰ πρόφερε χρυσέης Ἀφροδίτης·ο ὔ τοι ἀπόβλητ' ἐσ τ ὶθ ε ῶν ἐρικυδέαδ ῶρ α
ὅσσάκ ε ν α ὐτ ο ὶδ ῶσ ι ν , ἑκ ὼν δ 'ο ὐκ ἄν τις ἕλοιτο.- Yet do not bring up against me the sweet favours of golden Aphrodite.
Never to be cast away are the gifts of the gods, magnificent,
which they give of their own will, no man could have them for wanting them. - III. 64–66 (tr. Richmond Lattimore).
- Yet do not bring up against me the sweet favours of golden Aphrodite.
Α ἰε ὶδ ' ὁπλοτέρων ἀνδρῶν φρένες ἠερέθονται·ο ἷςδ ' ὁ γέρων μετέῃσ ι ν ἅμ α πρόσσωκ α ὶ ὀπίσσω
λεύσσει, ὅπως ὄχ ' ἄρισταμ ε τ ' ἀμφοτέροισι γένηται.- Always it is, that the hearts in the younger men are frivolous,
but when an elder man is among them, he looks behind him
and in front, so that all comes out far better for both sides. - III. 108–110 (tr. Richmond Lattimore).
- Always it is, that the hearts in the younger men are frivolous,
Ο ὐ νέμεσιςΤ ρ ῶαςκ α ὶ ἐϋκνήμιδας Ἀχαιοὺςτ ο ι ῇδ ' ἀμ φ ὶ γυναικὶ πολὺν χρόνον ἄλγεα πάσχειν·α ἰν ῶς ἀθανάτῃσ ι θ ε ῇςε ἰς ὦπ α ἔοικεν.- Who on earth could blame them? Ah, no wonder
the men of Troy and Argives under arms have suffered
years of agony all for her, for such a woman.
Beauty, terrible beauty!
A deathless goddess—so she strikes our eyes! - III. 156–158 (tr. Robert Fagles); of Helen.
- Richmond Lattimore's translation:
- Surely there is no blame on Trojans and strong-greaved Achaians
if for long time they suffer hardship for a woman like this one.
Terrible is the likeness of her face to immortal goddesses.
- Surely there is no blame on Trojans and strong-greaved Achaians
- Who on earth could blame them? Ah, no wonder
- Ἀ
λ λ ' ὅτ ε δ ὴ ὄπ α τ ε μεγάλην ἐκ στήθεοςε ἵη κ α ὶ ἔπ ε α νιφάδεσσιν ἐοικότα χειμερίῃσ ι ν ,
ἂν ἔπειτ' Ὀδυσῆΐγ ' ἐρίσσειεβ ρ ο τ ὸς ἄλλος·ο ὐ τότεγ ' ὧδ ' Ὀδυσῆος ἀγασσάμεθ'ε ἶδος ἰδόντες.- But when he let loose that great voice from his chest
and the words came piling on like a driving winter blizzard —
then no man alive could rival Odysseus! Odysseus...
we no longer gazed in wonder at his looks. - III. 221–224 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- But when he let loose that great voice from his chest
- Ἠέλιός
θ ', ὃς πάντ' ἐφορᾷςκ α ὶ πάντ' ἐπακούεις.- Helios, Sun above us, you who see all, hear all things!
- III. 277 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Book IV
- Ἔσσεται ἦμαρ ὅ
τ ' ἄν π ο τ ' ὀλώλῃ Ἴλιος ἱρ ὴκ α ὶ Πρίαμοςκ α ὶλ α ὸς ἐϋμμελίω Πριάμοιο.- The day will come when sacred Troy must die,
Priam must die and all his people with him,
Priam who hurls the strong ash spear! - IV. 164–165 (tr. Robert Fagles); spoken by Agamemnon.
- The day will come when sacred Troy must die,
Τ ῷμ ὲν κλέος, ἄμ μ ι δ ὲ πένθος.- Glory to him, but to us a sorrow.
- IV. 197 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- Ἀ
λ λ 'ο ὔ πως ἅμ α πάνταθ ε ο ὶ δόσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.- But the gods give to mortals not everything at the same time.
- IV. 320 (tr. R. Lattimore).
Τ ὸν δ ' ἄρ ' ὑπόδρα ἰδ ὼν προσέφη πολύμητις Ὀδυσσεύς·
Ἀτρεΐδηπ ο ῖόνσ ε ἔπος φύγεν ἕρκος ὀδόντων.- Then looking at him darkly resourceful Odysseus spoke to him:
"What is this word that broke through the fence of your teeth, Atreides?" - IV. 350–351 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- Then looking at him darkly resourceful Odysseus spoke to him:
- Ἥ
τ ' ὀλίγημ ὲν π ρ ῶτ α κορύσσεται,α ὐτ ὰρ ἔπειταο ὐρανῷ ἐστήριξε κάρηκ α ὶ ἐπ ὶ χθονὶ βαίνει.- She who is only a little thing at the first, but thereafter
grows until she strides on the earth with her head striking heaven. - IV. 442–443 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- She who is only a little thing at the first, but thereafter
- Book V
- Ὅ
τ τ ι μάλ'ο ὐ δηναιὸς ὃς ἀθανάτοισι μάχηται,ο ὐδέ τίμ ι ν π α ῖδεςπ ο τ ὶ γούνασι παππάζουσιν
ἐκ πολέμοιοκ α ὶα ἰν ῆς δηϊοτῆτος.- No man who fights with gods will live long or hear his children prattling about his knees when he returns from battle.
- V. 407–409 (tr. Samuel Butler).
Μ η δ ὲ θεοῖσ ι ν
ἶσ ' ἔθελε φρονέειν, ἐπ ε ὶο ὔ ποτεφ ῦλ ο ν ὁμ ο ῖο ν
ἀθανάτωντ ε θ ε ῶν χ α μ α ὶ ἐρχομένωντ ' ἀνθρώπων.- Think not to match yourself against gods, for men that walk the earth cannot hold their own with the immortals.
- V. 440–442 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Τοίω
τ ὼ χείρεσσιν ὑπ 'Α ἰνείαο δαμέντε
καππεσέτην, ἐλάτῃσ ι ν ἐοικότες ὑψηλῇσ ι .- So here the twins were laid low at Aeneas' hands,
down they crashed like lofty pine trees axed. - V. 559–560 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- So here the twins were laid low at Aeneas' hands,
- Στέντορι
ε ἰσαμένη μεγαλήτορι χαλκεοφώνῳ,
ὃς τόσονα ὐδήσασχ' ὅσ ο ν ἄλλοι πεντήκοντα.- In form of Stentor of the brazen voice,
Whose shout was as the shout of fifty men. - V. 785–786 (tr. Lord Derby).
- In form of Stentor of the brazen voice,
- Book VI
Ε ἰ δέ τίς ἐσ σ ι β ρ ο τ ῶν ο ἳ ἀρούρηςκ α ρ π ὸν ἔδουσιν,
ἆσσον ἴθ ' ὥςκ ε ν θ ᾶσσον ὀλέθρου πείραθ' ἵκηαι.- But if you're a man who eats the crops of the earth,
a mortal born for death—here, come closer,
the sooner you will meet your day to die! - VI. 142–143 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- But if you're a man who eats the crops of the earth,
Ο ἵη π ε ρ φύλλωνγ ε ν ε ὴ τοίηδ ὲκ α ὶ ἀνδρῶν .
φύλλατ ὰ μέντ ' ἄνεμος χαμάδις χέει, ἄλ λ α δέθ ' ὕλ η
τηλεθόωσα φύει, ἔαροςδ ' ἐπιγίγνεται ὥρ η ·
ὣς ἀνδρῶν γ ε ν ε ὴ ἣμ ὲν φύει ἣδ ' ἀπολήγει.- As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity.
The wind scatters the leaves on the ground, but the live timber
Burgeons with leaves again in the season of spring returning.
So one generation of men will grow while another dies. - VI. 146–149 (tr. R. Lattimore); Glaucus to Diomed.
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
Now green in youth, now withering on the ground:
Another race the following spring supplies,
They fall successive, and successive rise:
So generations in their course decay;
So flourish these, when those are past away.
- Like leaves on trees the race of man is found,
- As is the generation of leaves, so is that of humanity.
Α ἰὲν ἀριστεύεινκ α ὶ ὑπείροχον ἔμμεναι ἄλλων.- Now always be the best, my boy, the bravest,
and hold your head up high above the others. - VI. 208 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Now always be the best, my boy, the bravest,
- Ὣς ἄ
ρ α φωνήσαντεκ α θ ' ἵππων ἀΐξαντεχ ε ῖράςτ ' ἀλλήλων λαβέτηνκ α ὶ πιστώσαντο·
ἔν θ 'α ὖτ ε Γλαύκῳ Κρονίδης φρένας ἐξέλετο Ζεύς,
ὃςπ ρ ὸς Τυδεΐδην Διομήδεα τεύχε' ἄμειβε
χρύσεα χαλκείων, ἑκατόμβοι' ἐννεαβοίων.- So they spoke, and both springing down from behind their horses
gripped each other's hands and exchanged the promise of friendship;
but Zeus the son of Kronos stole away the wits of Glaukos
who exchanged with Diomedes the son of Tydeus armour
of gold for bronze, for nine oxen's worth the worth of a hundred. - VI. 232–236 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- So they spoke, and both springing down from behind their horses
- Ἀνδρὶ
δ ὲ κεκμηῶτ ι μένος μέγαο ἶνος ἀέξει.- When a Man's exhausted, wine will build his strength.
- VI. 261 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Νίκη
δ ᾽ ἐπαμείβεται ἄνδρας.- Victory passes back and forth between men.
- VI. 339 (tr. R. Lattimore); Paris contemplates the fickleness of victory as he prepares to go into battle.
- Καί ποτέ τις
ε ἴπ ο ι πατρόςγ ' ὅδ ε π ο λ λ ὸν ἀμείνων.- And some day let them say of him:
'He is better by far than his father.' - VI. 479 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- And some day let them say of him:
- Δακρυόεν γελάσασα.
- Smiling through tears.
- VI. 484 (tr. Lord Derby); of Andromache.
Μ ο ῖρ α ν δ 'ο ὔ τινάφ η μ ι πεφυγμένον ἔμμεναι ἀνδρῶν ,ο ὐ κακὸν ο ὐδ ὲμ ὲν ἐσθλόν, ἐπ ὴν τ ὰπ ρ ῶτ α γένηται.- And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it,
neither brave man nor coward, I tell you—
it's born with us the day that we are born. - VI. 488–489 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- And fate? No one alive has ever escaped it,
- Book VII
Α ἴδεσθενμ ὲν ἀνήνασθαι,δ ε ῖσ α ν δ ' ὑποδέχθαι.- Ashamed to decline the challenge, yet fearing to accept it.
- VII. 93 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Ἀ
λ λ ' ὑμ ε ῖςμ ὲν πάντες ὕδωρκ α ὶγ α ῖα γένοισθε
ἥμενοια ὖθ ι ἕκαστοι ἀκήριοι ἀκλεὲςα ὔτως.- May you be turned every man of you into earth and water as you sit spiritless and inglorious in your places.
- VII. 99–100 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book VIII
- Μήκων
δ ' ὡς ἑτέρωσε κάρη βάλεν, ἥτ ' ἐν ὶ κήπῳκ α ρ π ῷ βριθομένη νοτίῃσίτ ε ε ἰαρινῇσ ι ν ,
ὣς ἑτέρωσ' ἤμυσε κάρη πήληκι βαρυνθέν.- He bent drooping his head to one side, as a garden poppy
bends beneath the weight of its yield and the rains of springtime;
so his head bent slack to one side beneath the helm's weight. - VIII. 306–308 (tr. R. Lattimore); the death of Gorgythion.
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- As full-blown poppies, overcharged with rain,
Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain, —
So sinks the youth; his beauteous head, depressed
Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast.
- As full-blown poppies, overcharged with rain,
- He bent drooping his head to one side, as a garden poppy
- Ἐ
ν δ ' ἔπεσ' Ὠκεανῷ λαμπρὸν φάος ἠελίοιο
ἕλκον νύκτα μέλαιναν ἐπ ὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.- Now down in the Ocean sank the fiery light of day,
drawing the dark night across the grain-giving earth. - VIII. 485–486 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Now down in the Ocean sank the fiery light of day,
round the moon's brilliance blaze in all their glory
when the air falls to a sudden, windless calm...
- Ὡς
δ ' ὅτ ' ἐν ο ὐρανῷ ἄστραφ α ε ι ν ὴν ἀμ φ ὶ σελήνην
φαίνετ' ἀριπρεπέα, ὅτ ε τ ' ἔπλετο νήνεμοςα ἰθήρ·
ἔκ τ ' ἔφανενπ ᾶσ α ι σκοπιαὶκ α ὶ πρώονες ἄκροικ α ὶ νάπαι·ο ὐρανόθενδ ' ἄρ ' ὑπ ε ῤῥάγη ἄσπετοςα ἰθήρ,
πάνταδ ὲε ἴδεται ἄστρα, γέγηθε δέτ ε φρένα ποιμήν.- As stars in the night sky glittering
round the moon's brilliance blaze in all their glory
when the air falls to a sudden, windless calm...
all the lookout peaks stand out and the jutting cliffs
and the steep ravines and down from the high heavens bursts
the boundless, bright air and all the stars shine clear
and the shepherd's heart exults. - VIII. 551–555 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light,
When not a breath disturbs the deep serene,
And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole,
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with silver every mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies.
- As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,
- As stars in the night sky glittering
- Book IX
My heart detests him as the gates of hell.
- Ἀφρήτωρ ἀθέμιστος ἀνέστιός ἐστιν ἐ
κ ε ῖνος
ὃς πολέμου ἔραται ἐπιδημίου ὀκρυόεντος.- Cursed is the man, and void of law and right,
Unworthy property, unworthy light,
Unfit for public rule, or private care,
That wretch, that monster, that delights in war:
Whose lust is murder, and whose horrid joy
To tear his country, and his kind destroy! - IX. 63–64 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Cursed is the man, and void of law and right,
- Ἐχθρὸς γάρ
μ ο ι κ ε ῖνος ὁμ ῶς Ἀΐδαο πύλῃσ ι ν
ὅςχ ' ἕτερονμ ὲν κεύθῃ ἐν ὶ φρεσίν, ἄλ λ ο δ ὲε ἴπ ῃ.- Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
My heart detests him as the gates of hell. - IX. 312–313 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- A. H. Chase and W. G. Perry, Jr.'s translation:
- Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is the man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another.
- Who dares think one thing, and another tell,
- Κάτθαν' ὁ
μ ῶς ὅτ ' ἀεργὸς ἀν ὴρ ὅτ ε π ο λ λ ὰ ἐοργώς.- Alike the idlers and the active die.
- IX. 320 (tr. Lord Derby).
- Ἀνδρὸς
δ ὲ ψυχὴ πάλιν ἐλθεῖν ο ὔτ ε λεϊστὴο ὔθ ' ἑλετή, ἐπ ε ὶ ἄρ κ ε ν ἀμείψεται ἕρκος ὀδόντων.- But a man's life breath cannot come back again—
no raiders in force, no trading brings it back,
once it slips through a man's clenched teeth. - IX. 408–409 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- But a man's life breath cannot come back again—
ε ἰ μένκ ᾽α ὖθ ι μένων Τρώων πόλιν ἀμφιμάχωμαι,
ὤλετο μένμ ο ι νόστος, ἀτ ὰρ κλέος ἄφθιτον ἔσται.- If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy,
my journey home is gone, but my glory never dies. - IX. 412-413 (tr. Robert Fagles); spoken by Achilles.
- If I hold out here and I lay siege to Troy,
- Μύθων
τ ε ῥη τ ῆρ ' ἔμεναιπ ρ η κ τ ῆράτ ε ἔργων.- Be both a speaker of words and a doer of deeds.
- IX. 443 (tr. Andrew Lang).
Κ α ὶ γάρτ ε λιταίε ἰσ ι Δ ι ὸςκ ο ῦρ α ι μεγάλοιο
χωλαίτ ε ῥυσαίτ ε παραβλῶπέςτ ' ὀφθαλμώ,α ἵ ῥάτ ε κ α ὶ μετόπισθ' ἄτης ἀλέγουσικ ι ο ῦσ α ι .- Prayers are Jove's daughters, of celestial race,
Lame are their feet, and wrinkled is their face;
With humble mien, and with dejected eyes,
Constant they follow where Injustice flies. - IX. 498–500 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Prayers are Jove's daughters, of celestial race,
- Book X
- Ἐ
π ὶ ξυροῦ ἵσταται ἀκ μ ῆς
...ὄλεθρος...Ἀχαιοῖς ἠὲβ ι ῶν α ι .- Life and death are balanced as it were on the edge of a razor.
- X. 173–174 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book XI
- Ἰητρὸς
γ ὰρ ἀν ὴρ π ο λ λ ῶν ἀντάξιος ἄλ λ ω ν
ἰούςτ ' ἐκτάμνειν ἐπίτ ' ἤπ ι α φάρμακα πάσσειν.- A physician is worth more than several other men put together, for he can cut out arrows and spread healing herbs.
- XI. 514–515 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book XII
Ε ἷςο ἰω ν ὸς ἄριστος ἀμύνεσθαιπ ε ρ ὶ πάτρης.- Bird-signs!
Fight for your country—that is the best, the only omen! - XII. 243 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Bird-signs!
- Ὦ πέπον
ε ἰμ ὲν γ ὰρ πόλεμονπ ε ρ ὶ τόνδε φυγόντεα ἰε ὶδ ὴ μέλλοιμεν ἀγήρωτ ' ἀθανάτωτ ε
ἔσσεσθ',ο ὔτέκ ε ν α ὐτ ὸς ἐν ὶ πρώτοισι μαχοίμηνο ὔτέκ ε σ ὲ στέλλοιμι μάχην ἐς κυδιάνειραν·ν ῦν δ ' ἔμπηςγ ὰρ κ ῆρες ἐφεστᾶσ ι ν θανάτοιο
μυρίαι, ἃςο ὐκ ἔσ τ ι φ υ γ ε ῖν β ρ ο τ ὸν ο ὐδ ' ὑπαλύξαι,
ἴομεν ἠέτ ῳε ὖχος ὀρέξομεν ἠέ τις ἡμ ῖν .- Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle,
would be able to live on forever, ageless, immortal,
so neither would I myself go on fighting in the foremost,
nor would I urge you into the fighting where men win glory.
But now, seeing that the spirits of death stand close about us
in their thousands, no man can turn aside or escape them,
let us go on and win glory for ourselves, or yield it to others. - XII. 322–328 (tr. R. Lattimore); Sarpedon to Glaukos.
- Man, supposing you and I, escaping this battle,
- Book XIII
- Φράξαντες δόρυ δουρί, σάκος σάκεϊ προθελύμνῳ·
ἀσ π ὶς ἄρ ' ἀσπίδ' ἔρειδε, κόρυς κόρυν, ἀνέραδ ' ἀνήρ.- Locking spear by spear, shield against shield at the base, so buckler
leaned on buckler, helmet on helmet, man against man. - XIII, 130–131 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- Locking spear by spear, shield against shield at the base, so buckler
Τ ο ὶδ ' ἔριδος κρατερῆςκ α ὶ ὁμοιΐου πτολέμοιοπ ε ῖραρ ἐπαλλάξαντες ἐπ ' ἀμφοτέροισι τάνυσσαν
ἄῤῥηκτόντ ' ἄλυτόντ ε ,τ ὸ πολλῶν γούνατ' ἔλυσεν.- Both gods knotted the rope of strife and leveling war,
strangling both sides at once by stretching the mighty cable,
never broken, never slipped, that snapped the knees of thousands. - XIII. 358–360 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Both gods knotted the rope of strife and leveling war,
- Ἄ
λ λ ῳμ ὲν γ ὰρ ἔδωκεθ ε ὸς πολεμήϊα ἔρ γ α ,
ἄλ λ ῳδ ' ὀρχηστύν, ἑτέρῳ κίθαρινκ α ὶ ἀοιδήν,
ἄλ λ ῳδ ' ἐν στήθεσσιτ ι θ ε ῖ νόονε ὐρύοπαΖ ε ὺς
ἐσθλόν,τ ο ῦ δέτ ε πολλοὶ ἐπαυρίσκοντ' ἄνθρωποι.- To some the powers of bloody war belong,
To some, sweet music, and the charm of song;
To few, and wondrous few, has Jove assigned
A wise, extensive, all-considering mind. - XIII. 730–733 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- To some the powers of bloody war belong,
- Book XIV
Ο ὐ γάρ τις νέμεσις φυγέειν κακόν,ο ὐδ ' ἀν ὰ νύκτα.
βέλτερον ὃς φεύγων προφύγῃ κακὸν ἠὲ ἁλώῃ.- No shame in running,
fleeing disaster, even in pitch darkness.
Better to flee from death than feel its grip. - XIV. 80–81 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Richmond Lattimore's translation:
- There is no shame in running, even by night, from disaster.
The man does better who runs from disaster than he who is caught by it.
- There is no shame in running, even by night, from disaster.
- No shame in running,
- Ἔ
ν θ ' ἔν ι μ ὲν φιλότης, ἐν δ ' ἵμερος, ἐν δ ' ὀαριστὺς
πάρφασις, ἥτ ' ἔκλεψε νόον πύκαπ ε ρ φρονεόντων.- There is the heat of Love,
the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover's whisper,
irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad. - XIV. 216–217 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- In this was every art, and every charm,
To win the wisest, and the coldest warm:
Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire,
The kind deceit, the still reviving fire,
Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs,
Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
- In this was every art, and every charm,
- There is the heat of Love,
- Ἔ
ν θ ' Ὕπ ν ῳ ξύμβλητο κασιγνήτῳ Θανάτοιο.- There she encountered Sleep, the brother of Death.
- XIV. 231 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- Ὕπνε ἄ
ν α ξ πάντωντ ε θ ε ῶν πάντωντ ' ἀνθρώπων.- Sleep, universal king of gods and men.
- XIV. 233 (tr. Lord Derby).
- Book XV
Who for his country falls.
- Ῥ
ε ῖα δ ' ἀρίγνωτοςΔ ι ὸς ἀνδράσι γίγνεται ἀλκή.- Easily seen is the strength that is given from Zeus to mortals.
- XV. 490 (tr. R. Lattimore).
Ο ὔο ἱ ἀεικὲς ἀμυνομένῳ περὶ πάτρης
τεθνάμεν.- A glorious death is his
Who for his country falls. - XV. 496–497 (tr. Lord Derby); spoken by Hector.
- A glorious death is his
Α ἰδομένωνδ ' ἀνδρῶν πλέονες σόοι ἠὲ πέφανται·
φευγόντωνδ 'ο ὔτ ' ἂρ κλέος ὄρνυταιο ὔτέ τις ἀλκή.- On valour's side the odds of combat lie,
The brave live glorious, or lamented die;
The wretch who trembles in the field of fame,
Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame. - XV. 563–564 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- On valour's side the odds of combat lie,
- Ἀ
λ λ 'ε ἰ δή ῥα τότε βλάπτε φρέναςε ὐρύοπαΖ ε ὺς
ἡμετέρας,ν ῦν α ὐτ ὸς ἐποτρύνεικ α ὶ ἀνώγει.- Oh but if Zeus's lightning blinded us those days,
it's Zeus who drives us, hurls us on today! - XV. 724–725 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Oh but if Zeus's lightning blinded us those days,
- Book XVI
- Ἐ
ν γ ὰρ χ ε ρ σ ὶ τέλος πολέμου, ἐπέωνδ ' ἐν ὶ βουλῇ.- The proof of battle is action, proof of words, debate.
- XVI. 630 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Πέμπε δέ
μ ι ν πομποῖσ ι ν ἅμ α κραιπνοῖσ ι φέρεσθαι
ὕπ ν ῳκ α ὶ θανάτῳ διδυμάοσιν,ο ἵ ῥάμ ι ν ὦκ α
θήσουσ' ἐν Λυκίηςε ὐρείης πίονι δήμῳ.
- Ἀ
λ λ 'α ἰείτ ε Δ ι ὸς κρείσσων νόος ἠέπ ε ρ ἀνδρῶν .- But the will of Zeus will always overpower the will of men.
- XVI. 688 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Ὃ
δ ' ἐν στροφάλιγγι κονίηςκ ε ῖτ ο μέγας μεγαλωστί, λελασμένος ἱπποσυνάων.- He in the turning dust lay
mightily in his might, his horsemanship all forgotten. - XVI. 775–776 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- He in the turning dust lay
- I am foremost of all the Trojan warriors to stave the day of bondage from off them; as for you, vultures shall devour you here.
- XVI (tr. Samuel Butler); Hector to Patroclus.
- I say further, and lay my saying to your heart, you too shall live but for a little season; death and the day of your doom are close upon you, and they will lay you low by the hand of Achilles son of Aiakos.
- XVI (tr. S. Butler); Patroclus to Hector.
- Book XVII
there is not anywhere a thing more dismal than man is.
- Ῥεχθὲ
ν δέτ ε νήπιος ἔγ ν ω .- Once a thing has been done, the fool sees it.
- XVII. 32 (tr. R. Lattimore).
Ο ὐμ ὲν γάρ τί πού ἐστιν ὀϊζυρώτερον ἀνδρὸς
πάντων, ὅσσάτ ε γ α ῖα ν ἔπ ι πνείειτ ε κ α ὶ ἕρπει.- Among all creatures that breathe on earth and crawl on it
there is not anywhere a thing more dismal than man is. - XVII. 446–447 (tr. R. Lattimore); Zeus.
- Robert Fagles's translation:
- There is nothing alive more agonized than man
of all that breathe and crawl across the earth.
- There is nothing alive more agonized than man
- Among all creatures that breathe on earth and crawl on it
- Ἥ
σ ω γ ὰρ κ α ὶ ἐγώ,τ ὰ δέκ ε ν Δ ι ὶ πάντα μελήσει.- I'll fling a spear myself and leave the rest to Zeus.
- XVII. 515 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Book XVIII
- Ὡς ἔρις ἔ
κ τ ε θ ε ῶν ἔκ τ ' ἀνθρώπων ἀπόλοιτοκ α ὶ χόλος, ὅςτ ' ἐφέηκε πολύφρονάπ ε ρ χαλεπῆν α ι ,
ὅςτ ε π ο λ ὺ γλυκίων μέλιτος καταλειβομένοιο
ἀνδρῶν ἐν στήθεσσιν ἀέξεται ἠΰτε καπνός.- If only strife could die from the lives of gods and men
and anger that drives the sanest man to flare in outrage—
bitter gall, sweeter than dripping streams of honey,
that swarms in people's chests and blinds like smoke. - XVIII. 107–110 (tr. Robert Fagles); spoken by Achilles.
- If only strife could die from the lives of gods and men
- Ἀ
λ λ 'ο ὐΖ ε ὺς ἄνδρεσσι νοήματα πάντα τελευτᾷ.- But Zeus does not bring to accomplishment all thoughts in men's minds.
- XVIII. 328 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- Book XIX
Θ ε ὸςδ ι ὰ πάντα τελευτᾷ.- It is the god who accomplishes all things.
- XIX. 90 (tr. R. Lattimore).
Ο ὐγ ὰρ ἀν ὴρ πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἄκμηνος σίτοιο δυνήσεται ἄν τ α μάχεσθαι.- For a man will not have strength to fight his way forward all day
long until the sun goes down if he is starved for food. - XIX. 162–163 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- For a man will not have strength to fight his way forward all day
- Book XX
- Στρεπτὴ
δ ὲγ λ ῶσ σ ' ἐσ τ ὶ βροτῶν , πολέεςδ ' ἔν ι μ ῦθ ο ι
παντοῖο ι , ἐπέωνδ ὲ πολὺςν ο μ ὸς ἔν θ α κ α ὶ ἔν θ α .- The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there
of every kind, the range of words is wide, and their variance. - XX. 248–249 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- The tongue of man is a twisty thing, there are plenty of words there
- Book XXI
- Ἀ
λ λ ' ἔπ ι τ ο ι κ α ὶ ἐμ ο ὶ θάνατοςκ α ὶμ ο ῖρ α κραταιή·
ἔσσεται ἢ ἠὼς ἢ δείλη ἢ μέσον ἦμ α ρ
ὁππότε τιςκ α ὶ ἐμ ε ῖο Ἄρ ῃ ἐκ θ υ μ ὸν ἕληται
ἢ ὅγ ε δ ο υ ρ ὶ βαλὼν ἢ ἀπ ὸ νευρῆφ ι ν ὀϊστῷ.- There shall be a dawn or an afternoon or a noontime
when some man in the fighting will take the life from me also
either with a spearcast or an arrow flown from the bowstring. - XXI. 110 (tr. R. Lattimore); spoken by Achilles.
- There shall be a dawn or an afternoon or a noontime
- Ἐννοσίγαι'
ο ὐκ ἄν μ ε σαόφρονα μυθήσαιο
ἔμμεναι,ε ἰδ ὴ σοίγ ε β ρ ο τ ῶν ἕν ε κ α πτολεμίξωδ ε ι λ ῶν ,ο ἳ φύλλοισιν ἐοικότες ἄλλοτε μέντ ε
ζαφλεγέες τελέθουσιν ἀρούρηςκ α ρ π ὸν ἔδοντες,
ἄλλοτεδ ὲ φθινύθουσιν ἀκήριοι.- Shaker of the earth, you would have me be as one without prudence
if I am to fight even you for the sake of insignificant
mortals, who are as leaves are, and now flourish and grow warm
with life, and feed on what the ground gives, but then again
fade away and are dead. - XXI. 462–466 (tr. R. Lattimore); Apollo to Poseidon.
- Shaker of the earth, you would have me be as one without prudence
- Book XXII
- Ὡς
ο ὐκ ἔσ τ ι λέουσικ α ὶ ἀνδράσιν ὅρκια πιστά,ο ὐδ ὲ λύκοιτ ε κ α ὶ ἄρνες ὁμόφροναθ υ μ ὸν ἔχουσιν.- There can be no covenants between men and lions, wolves and lambs can never be of one mind.
- XXII. 262–263 (tr. Samuel Butler); Achilles to Hector.
Ν ῦν α ὖτέμ ε μ ο ῖρ α κιχάνει.μ ὴμ ὰν ἀσπουδίγ ε κ α ὶ ἀκλειῶς ἀπολοίμην,
ἀλ λ ὰ μέγα ῥέξαςτ ι κ α ὶ ἐσσομένοισι πυθέσθαι.- So now I meet my doom. Well let me die—
but not without struggle, not without glory, no,
in some great clash of arms that even men to come
will hear of down the years! - XXII. 303 (tr. Robert Fagles); spoken by Hector.
- Richmond Lattimore's translation:
- But now my death is upon me.
Let me at least not die without a struggle, inglorious,
but do some big thing first, that men to come shall know of it.
- But now my death is upon me.
- So now I meet my doom. Well let me die—
- Μή
μ ε κύον γούνων γουνάζεομ ὴδ ὲ τοκήων.- No more entreating of me, you dog, by knees or parents.
- XXII. 345 (tr. R. Lattimore); Achilles to Hector.
- Book XXIII
- Ὢ πόποι ἦ ῥά τίς ἐ
σ τ ι κ α ὶε ἰν Ἀΐδαο δόμοισιψ υ χ ὴκ α ὶε ἴδωλον, ἀτ ὰρ φρένεςο ὐκ ἔν ι πάμπαν.- Oh, wonder! Even in the house of Hades there is left something,
a soul and an image, but there is no real heart of life in it. - XXIII. 103–104 (tr. R. Lattimore); Achilles after seeing Patroclus' ghost.
- Oh, wonder! Even in the house of Hades there is left something,
- Μήτι
τ ο ι δρυτόμος μέγ' ἀμείνων ἠὲ βίηφι·
μήτιδ 'α ὖτ ε κυβερνήτης ἐν ὶο ἴνοπι πόντῳν ῆα θ ο ὴν ἰθύνει ἐρεχθομένην ἀνέμοισι·
μήτιδ ' ἡνίοχος περιγίγνεται ἡνιόχοιο.- The woodcutter is far better for skill than he is for brute strength.
It is by skill that the sea captain holds his rapid ship
on its course, though torn by winds, over the wine-blue water.
By skill charioteer outpasses charioteer. - XXIII. 315–318 (tr. R. Lattimore).
- The woodcutter is far better for skill than he is for brute strength.
- Book XXIV
Τ λ η τ ὸν γ ὰρ Μ ο ῖραιθ υ μ ὸν θέσαν ἀνθρώποισιν.- The Fates have given mortals hearts that can endure.
- XXIV. 49 (tr. Robert Fagles).
I put to my lips the hands of the man who killed my son.
- Ἄ
γ χ ι δ ' ἄρ α σ τ ὰς ...χ ε ρ σ ὶν Ἀχιλλῆος λάβε γούνατακ α ὶ κύσεχ ε ῖραςδ ε ι ν ὰς ἀνδροφόνους,α ἵο ἱ πολέας κτάνονυ ἷας.- The majestic king of Troy slipped past the rest
and kneeling down beside Achilles, clasped his knees
and kissed his hands, those terrible, man-killing hands
that had slaughtered Priam's many sons in battle. - XXIV. 477–479 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- The majestic king of Troy slipped past the rest
- Ἔτλην
δ 'ο ἷ'ο ὔ πώ τις ἐπιχθόνιοςβ ρ ο τ ὸς ἄλλος,
ἀνδρὸς παιδοφόνοιοπ ο τ ὶ στόμαχ ε ῖρ ' ὀρέγεσθαι.- I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before—
I put to my lips the hands of the man who killed my son. - XXIV. 505–506 (tr. Robert Fagles); Priam to Achilles.
- Richmond Lattimore's translation:
- I have gone through what no other mortal on earth has gone through;
I put my lips to the hands of the man who has killed my children.
- I have gone through what no other mortal on earth has gone through;
- I have endured what no one on earth has ever done before—
- Ἄλγεα
δ ' ἔμπης
ἐν θ υ μ ῷ κατακεῖσθαι ἐάσομεν ἀχνύμενοίπ ε ρ ·ο ὐ γάρ τιςπ ρ ῆξις πέλεται κρυεροῖο γόοιο·
ὡςγ ὰρ ἐπεκλώσαντοθ ε ο ὶ δειλοῖσ ι βροτοῖσ ι
ζώειν ἀχνυμένοις·α ὐτ ο ὶ δέτ ' ἀκηδέεςε ἰσί.- Let us put our griefs to rest in our own hearts...
What good's to be won from tears that chill the spirit?
So the immortals spun our lives that we, we wretched men
live on to bear such torments—the gods live free of sorrows. - XXIV. 522–526 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Let us put our griefs to rest in our own hearts...
Κ α ὶσ ὲ γέροντ ὸπ ρ ὶν μ ὲν ἀκούομεν ὄλβιονε ἶν α ι .- And you, old sir, we are told you prospered once.
- XXIV. 543 (tr. R. Lattimore); Achilles to Priam.
- Book I
- Ἄνδρα
μ ο ι ἔννεπε,Μ ο ῦσ α , πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλαπ ο λ λ ὰ
πλάγχθη, ἐπ ε ὶ Τροίης ἱε ρ ὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσε·π ο λ λ ῶν δ ’ ἀνθρώπων ἴδ ε ν ἄστεακ α ὶ νόον ἔγ ν ω ,π ο λ λ ὰδ ’ ὅγ ’ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κ α τ ὰ θυμόν,
ἀρνύμενος ἥν τ ε ψ υ χ ὴν κ α ὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.- Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered
the hallowed heights of Troy.
Many cities of men he saw and learned their minds,
many pains he suffered, heartsick on the open sea,
fighting to save his life and bring his comrades home. - I. 1–5 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
Α ὐτ ῶν γ ὰρ σφετέρῃσ ι ν ἀτασθαλίῃσ ι ν ὄλοντο.- The recklessness of their own ways destroyed them all.
- I. 7 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- ὢ πόποι,
ο ἷο ν δήν υ θ ε ο ὺςβ ρ ο τ ο ὶα ἰτιόωνται.
ἐξ ἡμέων γάρφ α σ ι κάκ' ἔμμεναι·ο ἱδ ὲκ α ὶα ὐτ ο ὶσ φ ῇσ ι ν ἀτασθαλίῃσ ι ν ὑπ ὲρ μόρον ἄλγε' ἔχουσιν.- See now, how men lay blame upon us gods for what is after all nothing but their own folly.
- I. 32–34 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Ἱέμενος
κ α ὶ καπνὸν ἀποθρῴσκονταν ο ῆσ α ι
ἧς γαίης, θανέειν ἱμείρεται.- Such desire is in him
merely to see the hearthsmoke leaping upward
from his own island, that he longs to die. - I. 58–59 (tr. Robert Fitzgerald).
- Such desire is in him
Ο ὐκ ο ἶδ '·ο ὐ γάρ πώ τις ἑὸν γόνονα ὐτ ὸς ἀνέγνω.- Who, on his own,
has ever really known who gave him life? - I. 216 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Who, on his own,
Τ α ῦτ α θ ε ῶν ἐν γούνασικ ε ῖτ α ι .- These things surely lie on the knees of the gods.
- I. 267. Cf. Iliad XVII. 514.
- Book II
Π α ῦρ ο ι γάρτ ο ι π α ῖδες ὁμ ο ῖο ι π α τ ρ ὶ πέλονται,ο ἱ πλέονες κακίους,π α ῦρ ο ι δέτ ε π α τ ρ ὸς ἀρείους.- Few sons, indeed, are like their fathers.
Generally they are worse; but just a few are better. - II. 276–277 (tr. E. V. Rieu).
- Few sons, indeed, are like their fathers.
Τ ο ῖσ ι ν δ ' ἴκμενονο ὖρον ἵε ι γλαυκῶπις Ἀθήνη,
ἀκραῆ ζέφυρον, κελάδοντ' ἐπ ὶο ἴνοπα πόντον.- Grey-eyed Athene sent them a favourable gale, a fresh West Wind, singing over the wine-dark sea.
- II. 420–421 (tr. S. H. Butcher and Andrew Lang).
- Book III
- Τηλέμαχ', ἄ
λ λ α μ ὲν α ὐτ ὸς ἐν ὶ φρεσὶσ ῇσ ι νοήσεις,
ἄλ λ α δ ὲκ α ὶ δαίμων ὑποθήσεται.- Some of the words you'll find within yourself,
the rest some power will inspire you to say. - III. 26–27 (tr. Robert Fagles); Athena to Telemachus.
- Some of the words you'll find within yourself,
- Πάντες
δ ὲθ ε ῶν χατέουσ' ἄνθρωποι.- All men need the gods...
- III. 48 (tr. Robert Fagles).
Ψ ε ῦδοςδ 'ο ὐκ ἐρέει· μάλαγ ὰρ πεπνυμένος ἐστίν.- He will tell you no lies, for he is an excellent person.
- III. 328 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book IV
- Νεμεσσῶμαί
γ ε μ ὲν ο ὐδ ὲν
κλαίειν, ὅςκ ε θάνῃσ ι β ρ ο τ ῶν κ α ὶ πότμον ἐπίσπῃ.τ ο ῦτόν υ κ α ὶ γέραςο ἶο ν ὀϊζυροῖσ ι βροτοῖσ ι ,
κείρασθαίτ ε κόμην βαλέειντ ' ἀπ ὸ δάκρυπ α ρ ε ι ῶν .- Not that I'd grudge a tear
for any man gone down to meet his fate.
What other tribute can we pay to wretched men
than to cut a lock, let tears roll down our cheeks? - IV. 195–198 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Not that I'd grudge a tear
θ ε ο ὶ δέτ ε πάντα ἴσασιν.- The gods know all things.
- IV. 468.
- Book V
to travel home and see the dawn of my return.
Ο ὐδέμ ο ι α ὐτ ῇθ υ μ ὸς ἐν ὶ στήθεσσι σιδήρεος, ἀλ λ ' ἐλεήμων.- Not iron, trust me,
the heart within my breast. I am all compassion. - V. 190–191 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Not iron, trust me,
- Ἀ
λ λ ὰκ α ὶ ὧς ἐθέλωκ α ὶ ἐέλδομαι ἤματα πάνταο ἴκαδέτ ' ἐλθέμεναικ α ὶ νόστιμον ἦμαρ ἰδέσθαι.- Nevertheless I long—I pine, all my days—
to travel home and see the dawn of my return. - V. 219–220 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Nevertheless I long—I pine, all my days—
- Τλήσομαι ἐ
ν στήθεσσιν ἔχ ω ν ταλαπενθέα θυμόν·
ἤδ η γ ὰρ μάλαπ ο λ λ ὰ πάθονκ α ὶ πολλὰ μόγησα.- My soul
Shall bear that also; for, by practice taught,
I have learned patience, having much endured. - V. 222–223 (tr. William Cowper).
- My soul
- Book VI
Σ ο ὶδ ὲ θεοὶ τόσαδ ο ῖε ν , ὅσ α φ ρ ε σ ὶσ ῇσ ι μενοινᾷς,
ἄνδρατ ε κ α ὶο ἶκ ο ν ,κ α ὶ ὁμοφροσύνην ὀπάσειαν
ἐσθλήν·ο ὐμ ὲν γ ὰρ τ ο ῦγ ε κ ρ ε ῖσσονκ α ὶ ἄρειον,
ἢ ὅθ ' ὁμοφρονέοντε νοήμασινο ἶκ ο ν ἔχητον
ἀν ὴρ ἠδ ὲ γυνή· πόλλ' ἄλγεα δυσμενέεσσι,
χάρματαδ 'ε ὐμενέτῃσ ι · μάλιστα δέτ ' ἔκλυονα ὐτοί.- And may the gods accomplish your desire:
a home, a husband, and harmonious
converse with him – the best thing in the world
being a strong house held in serenity
where man and wife agree. Woe to their enemies,
joy to their friends! But all this they know best. - VI. 180–185 (tr. Robert Fitzgerald); Odysseus to Nausicaa.
- And may the gods accomplish your desire:
Ζ ε ὺςδ 'α ὐτ ὸς νέμει ὄλβον Ὀλύμπιος ἀνθρώποισιν,
ἐσθλοῖσ ' ἠδ ὲ κακοῖσ ι ν , ὅπως ἐθέλῃσ ι ν , ἑκάστῳ.- Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales,
And the good suffers, while the bad prevails. - VI. 188 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Jove weighs affairs of earth in dubious scales,
- Book VII
Ο ὐ γάρτ ι στυγερῇ ἐπ ὶ γαστέρι κύντερον ἄλ λ ο
ἔπλετο, ἥτ ' ἐκέλευσεν ἕο μνήσασθαι ἀνάγκῃκ α ὶ μάλα τειρόμενονκ α ὶ ἐν ὶ φρεσὶ πένθος ἔχοντα.- Nothing more shameless is than Appetite,
Who still, whatever anguish load our breast,
Makes us remember in our own despite
Both food and drink. - VII. 216–218 (tr. P. S. Worsley).
- Nothing more shameless is than Appetite,
- Book VIII
Ο ὕτωςο ὐ πάντεσσιθ ε ο ὶ χαρίενταδ ι δ ο ῦσ ι ν
ἀνδράσιν,ο ὔτ ε φ υ ὴν ο ὔτ ’ ἂρ φρέναςο ὔτ ’ ἀγορητύν.- The gods don't hand out all their gifts at once,
not build and brains and flowing speech to all. - VIII. 167–168 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- The gods don't hand out all their gifts at once,
Τ ῶν δ ' ἄλλων ἐμέφ η μ ι π ο λ ὺ προφερέστερονε ἶν α ι ,
ὅσσοιν ῦν βροτοίε ἰσ ι ν ἐπ ὶ χθονὶσ ῖτ ο ν ἔδοντες.- I far excel every one else in the whole world,
of those who still eat bread upon the face of the earth. - VIII. 221–222 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- I far excel every one else in the whole world,
Ο ὐκ ἀρετᾷ κακὰ ἔργα· κιχάνειτ ο ι β ρ α δ ὺς ὠκύν,
ὡςκ α ὶν ῦν Ἥφαιστος ἐὼν β ρ α δ ὺςε ἷλ ε ν Ἄρ η α ,
ὠκύτατόνπ ε ρ ἐόνταθ ε ῶν ,ο ἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.- Behold on wrong
Swift vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong!
Dwells there a god on all the Olympian brow
More swift than Mars, and more than Vulcan slow?
Yet Vulcan conquers, and the god of arms
Must pay the penalty for lawless charms. - VIII. 329–331 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Behold on wrong
- Δειλαί
τ ο ι δ ε ι λ ῶν γ ε κ α ὶ ἐγγύαι ἐγγυάασθαι.- Worthless is as worthless does.
- VIII. 351 (tr. Martin Hammond).
- Ἐ
π ε ὶο ὐ μέντ ι κασιγνήτοιο χερείων
γίνεται, ὅςκ ε ν ἑτ α ῖρος ἐὼν πεπνυμέναε ἰδ ῇ.- For a friend with an understanding heart is worth no less than a brother.
- VIII. 585–586 (tr. G. H. Palmer).
- Book IX
- Τί
π ρ ῶτόντ ο ι ἔπειτα, τίδ ' ὑστάτιον καταλέξω.- Well then, what shall I go through first,
what shall I save for last? - IX. 14 (tr. Robert Fagles)
- Well then, what shall I go through first,
- Ὡς
ο ὐδ ὲν γλύκιον ἧς πατρίδοςο ὐδ ὲ τοκήων
γίνεται,ε ἴπ ε ρ καί τις ἀπόπροθι πίοναο ἶκ ο ν
γαίῃ ἐν ἀλλοδαπῇ ναίει ἀπάνευθε τοκήων.- So nothing is as sweet as a man's own country,
his own parents, even though he's settled down
in some luxurious house, off in a foreign land
and far from those who bore him. - IX. 34–36 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- So nothing is as sweet as a man's own country,
Ο ὖτις ἐμοίγ ' ὄνομα.- Nobody—that's my name.
- IX. 366 (tr. Robert Fagles); Odysseus to Polyphemus.
Τ ο ὺςδ 'α ὖτ ' ἐξ ἄντρου προσέφη κρατερὸς Πολύφημος·
«ὦ φίλοι,Ο ὖτίςμ ε κτείνει δόλῳο ὐδ ὲ βίηφιν.»- ‘Nobody, friends’—Polyphemus bellowed back from his cave—
‘Nobody's killing me now by fraud and not by force!’ - IX. 407–408 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- ‘Nobody, friends’—Polyphemus bellowed back from his cave—
- Book X
- Νεκύων ἀμενηνὰ κάρηνα.
- The fleeting shadows of the dead.
- X. 521 (tr. G. A. Schomberg).
- Book XI
three times she fluttered through my fingers, sifting away
like a shadow, dissolving like a dream.
- Μή
μ ' ἄκλαυτον ἄθαπτον ἰὼν ὄπιθεν καταλείπειν
νοσφισθείς.- His cold remains all naked to the sky,
On distant shores unwept, unburied lie. - XI. 72–73 (tr. Alexander Pope); of Elpenor.
- His cold remains all naked to the sky,
Τ ρ ὶςμ ὲν ἐφωρμήθην, ἑλέειν τέμ ε θ υ μ ὸς ἀνώγει,τ ρ ὶς δέμ ο ι ἐκ χ ε ι ρ ῶν σ κ ι ῇε ἴκελον ἢκ α ὶ ὀνείρῳ
ἔπτατ'.- Three times I rushed toward her, desperate to hold her,
three times she fluttered through my fingers, sifting away
like a shadow, dissolving like a dream. - XI. 206–208 (tr. Robert Fagles); Odysseus attempting to embrace his mother's spirit in the Underworld.
- Compare Virgil, Aeneid, II. 792–793 (tr. C. Pitt):
- Thrice round her neck my eager arms I threw;
Thrice from my empty arms the phantom flew.
- Thrice round her neck my eager arms I threw;
- Three times I rushed toward her, desperate to hold her,
- Ὥ
ρ η μ ὲν πολέων μύθων, ὥρ η δ ὲκ α ὶ ὕπνου.- There is a time for many words and there is a time also for sleep.
- XI. 379 (tr. A. T. Murray).
- Ἐ
π ε ὶο ὐκέτιπ ι σ τ ὰ γυναιξίν.- The time for trusting women's gone forever!
- XI. 456 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- For since of womankind so few are just,
Think all are false, nor even the faithful trust.
- For since of womankind so few are just,
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- βουλοίμην
κ ' ἐπάρουρος ἐὼν θητευέμεν ἄλ λ ῳ,
ἀνδρὶ παρ' ἀκλήρῳ, ᾧμ ὴ βίοτοςπ ο λ ὺςε ἴη ,
ἢπ ᾶσ ι ν νεκύεσσι καταφθιμένοισιν ἀνάσσειν.- By god, I'd rather slave on earth for another man—
some dirt-poor tenant farmer who scrapes to keep alive—
than rule down here over all the breathless dead. - XI. 489–492 (tr. Robert Fagles); Achilles' ghost to Odysseus.
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear
A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air,
A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread,
Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead.
- Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear
With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;
The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground.- Rather would I, in the sun's warmth divine,
Serve a poor churl who drags his days in grief,
Than the whole lordship of the dead were mine.
- Rather would I, in the sun's warmth divine,
- By god, I'd rather slave on earth for another man—
Κ α ὶμ ὴν Σίσυφονε ἰσ ε ῖδ ο ν κρατέρ' ἄλγε' ἔχοντα,λ ᾶα ν βαστάζοντα πελώριον ἀμφοτέρῃσ ι ν .τ ο ι ὁμ ὲν σκηριπτόμενος χερσίντ ε ποσίντ ε λ ᾶα ν ἄν ω ὤθεσκεπ ο τ ὶ λόφον· ἀλ λ ' ὅτ ε μέλλοι
ἄκρον ὑπερβαλέειν, τότ' ἀποστρέψασκε Κραταιΐς·α ὖτις ἔπειτα πέδονδε κυλίνδετολ ᾶας ἀναιδής.- With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone;
The huge round stone, resulting with a bound,
Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the ground. - XI. 593–598 (tr. William Broome); of Sisyphus.
- With many a weary step, and many a groan,
- Book XII
- Ὦ φίλοι,
ο ὐ γάρ πώτ ι κ α κ ῶν ἀδαήμονέςε ἰμ ε ν .- Friends, we're hardly strangers at meeting danger.
- XII. 209 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Πάντες
μ ὲν στυγεροὶ θάνατοιδ ε ι λ ο ῖσ ι βροτοῖσ ι ,λ ι μ ῷδ 'ο ἴκτιστον θανέεινκ α ὶ πότμον ἐπισπεῖν .- All ways of dying are hateful to us poor mortals,
true, but to die of hunger, starve to death—
that's the worst of all. - XII. 342–343 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- All ways of dying are hateful to us poor mortals,
- βούλομ' ἅπαξ
π ρ ὸςκ ῦμ α χ α ν ὼν ἀπ ὸ θυμὸν ὀλέσσαι
ἢ δηθὰ στρεύγεσθαι ἐὼν ἐν νήσῳ ἐρήμῃ.- I’d rather die at sea, with one deep gulp of death,
than die by inches on this desolate island here! - XII. 351–352 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- I’d rather die at sea, with one deep gulp of death,
- Ἐχθρὸ
ν δέ μοί ἐσ τ ι ν α ὖτις ἀριζήλωςε ἰρημένα μυθολογεύειν.- I hate saying the same thing over and over again.
- XII. 453–454 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book XIII
Κ α ὶτ ῷ νήδυμος ὕπνος ἐπ ὶ βλεφάροισιν ἔπιπτε,
νήγρετος ἥδιστος, θανάτῳ ἄγχιστα ἐοικώς.
- Γήθησέν
τ ' ἄρ ' ἔπειτα πολύτλαςδ ῖος Ὀδυσσεὺς
χαίρων ᾗ γαίῃ, κύσεδ ὲ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.- Then Ulysses rejoiced at finding himself again in his own land, and kissed the bounteous soil.
- XIII. 353–354 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book XIV
Ξ ε ῖν ',ο ὔμ ο ι θέμις ἔσ τ ',ο ὐδ 'ε ἰ κακίων σέθεν ἔλθοι,ξ ε ῖν ο ν ἀτιμῆσ α ι ·π ρ ὸςγ ὰρ Διόςε ἰσ ι ν ἅπαντεςξ ε ῖνοίτ ε πτωχοίτ ε . δόσιςδ ' ὀλίγητ ε φίλητ ε
γίνεται ἡμετέρη.- It's wrong, my friend, to send any stranger packing—
even one who arrives in worse shape than you.
Every stranger and beggar comes from Zeus
and whatever scrap they get from the likes of us,
they'll find it welcome. - XIV. 56–59 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- It's wrong, my friend, to send any stranger packing—
Ο ὐμ ὲν σχέτλια ἔργαθ ε ο ὶ μάκαρες φιλέουσιν,
ἀλ λ ὰ δίκην τίουσικ α ὶα ἴσιμα ἔρ γ ' ἀνθρώπων.- The blessed gods have no love for crime.
They honor justice, honor the decent acts of men. - XIV. 83–84 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- The blessed gods have no love for crime.
- Ἄλλος γάρ
τ ' ἄλλοισιν ἀν ὴρ ἐπιτέρπεται ἔργοις.- Each man delights in the work that suits him best.
- XIV. 228 (tr. Robert Fagles).
ε ὐξάμενόςτ ι ἔπος ἐρέω·ο ἶνοςγ ὰρ ἀνώγει,
ἠλεός, ὅςτ ' ἐφέηκε πολύφρονάπ ε ρ μάλ' ἀε ῖσ α ι
καίθ ' ἁπαλὸν γελάσαι καίτ ' ὀρχήσασθαι ἀν ῆκ ε ,
καίτ ι ἔπος προέηκεν, ὅ πέρτ ' ἄῤῥητον ἄμεινον.- I want to brag a little. I am dizzy,
under the influence of wine, which makes
even the wisest people sing and giggle,
and dance, and say things best not spoken. - XIV. 463–466 (tr. Emily Wilson).
- I want to brag a little. I am dizzy,
- Book XV
- Μή νύ
τ ι σ ε ῦ ἀέκητι δόμων ἐκ κ τ ῆμ α φέρηται.ο ἶσ θ α γ ὰρ ο ἷοςθ υ μ ὸς ἐν ὶ στήθεσσι γυναικός·
κείνου βούλεταιο ἶκ ο ν ὀφέλλειν, ὅςκ ε ν ὀπυίῃ,
παίδωνδ ὲ προτέρωνκ α ὶ κουριδίοιο φίλοιοο ὐκέτι μέμνηται τεθνηότοςο ὐδ ὲ μεταλλᾷ.- I hope nothing valuable may have been taken from the house in spite of you, but you know what women are—they always want to do the best they can for the man who marries them, and never give another thought to the children of their first husband, nor to their father either when he is dead and done with.
- XV. 19–23 (tr. Samuel Butler).
Τ ο ῦ γάρτ ε ξ ε ῖνοςμ ι μ ν ῄσκεται ἤματα πάντα
ἀνδρὸς ξεινοδόκου, ὅςκ ε ν φιλότητα παράσχῃ.- For a guest remembers all his days the hospitable man who showed him kindness.
- XV. 54–55 (tr. G. H. Palmer).
- ἶσόν
τ ο ι κακόν ἐσ θ ', ὅςτ 'ο ὐκ ἐθέλοντα νέεσθαιξ ε ῖν ο ν ἐποτρύνῃκ α ὶ ὃς ἐσσύμενον κατερύκῃ.χ ρ ὴξ ε ῖν ο ν παρεόνταφ ι λ ε ῖν , ἐθέλονταδ ὲ πέμπειν.- Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend:
True friendship's laws are by this rule expressed,
Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. - XV. 72–74 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Alike he thwarts the hospitable end,
Α ἵδ ε δ ὲ νύκτες ἀθέσφατοι· ἔσ τ ι μ ὲν ε ὕδειν,
ἔσ τ ι δ ὲ τερπομένοισιν ἀκουέμεν·ο ὐδέ τίσ ε χρή,π ρ ὶν ὥρ η , καταλέχθαι· ἀνίηκ α ὶ πολὺς ὕπνος.- Long nights the now declining year bestows;
A part we consecrate to soft repose,
A part in pleasing talk we entertain;
For too much rest itself becomes a pain. - XV. 392–394 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Long nights the now declining year bestows;
Ν ῶϊδ ' ἐν ὶ κλισίῃ πίνοντέτ ε δαινυμένωτ ε
κήδεσιν ἀλλήλων τερπώμεθα λευγαλέοισι
μνωομένω·μ ε τ ὰ γάρτ ε κ α ὶ ἄλγεσι τέρπεται ἀνήρ,
ὅς τιςδ ὴ μάλαπ ο λ λ ὰ πάθῃκ α ὶ πόλλ' ἐπαληθῇ.- But let us, you and I,
sit in my cottage over food and wine,
and take some joy in hearing how much pain
we each have suffered. After many years
of agony and absence from one's home,
a person can begin enjoying grief. - XV. 398–401 (tr. Emily Wilson).
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- Here let us feast, and to the feast be joined
Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind;
Review the series of our lives, and taste
The melancholy joy of evils passed:
For he who much has suffered, much will know,
And pleased remembrance builds delight on woe.
- Here let us feast, and to the feast be joined
- E. V. Rieu's translation:
- Meanwhile let us two, here in the hut, over our food and wine, regale ourselves with the unhappy memories that each can recall. For a man who has been through bitter experiences and travelled far can enjoy even his sufferings after a time.
- Alexander Pope's translation:
- But let us, you and I,
- Book XVI
Υ ἱὸν κύσε,κ ὰδ δ ὲ παρειῶν
δάκρυον ἧκ ε χ α μ ᾶζ ε · πάροςδ ' ἔχ ε ν ω λ ε μ ὲςα ἰεί.- He kissed his son, and a tear fell from his cheek on to the ground, for he had restrained all tears till now.
- XVI. 190–191 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Ῥηΐδιον
δ ὲ θεοῖσ ι ,τ ο ὶο ὐρανὸν ε ὐρ ὺν ἔχουσιν,
ἠμ ὲν κ υ δ ῆν α ι θ ν η τ ὸν β ρ ο τ ὸν ἠδ ὲ κακῶσ α ι .- It's light work for the gods who rule the skies
to exalt a mortal man or bring him low. - XVI. 211–212 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- It's light work for the gods who rule the skies
- Κοίτου
τ ε μνήσαντοκ α ὶ ὕπνουδ ῶρον ἕλοντο.- They remembered bed and took the gift of sleep.
- XVI. 481 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Book XVII
- Ἔσθλ' ἀγορεύοντες,
κ α κ ὰδ ὲ φρεσὶ βυσσοδόμευον.- Welcome words on their lips, and murder in their hearts.
- XVII. 66 (tr. Robert Fagles).
Ν ῦν μ ὲν δ ὴ μάλα πάγχυκ α κ ὸςκ α κ ὸν ἡγηλάζει,
ὡςα ἰε ὶτ ὸν ὁμ ο ῖο ν ἄγ ε ι θ ε ὸς ὡςτ ὸν ὁμ ο ῖο ν .- Now sure enough the vile man leads the vile!
As ever, god brings like and like together! - XVII. 217–218 (tr. G. H. Palmer).
- Now sure enough the vile man leads the vile!
Α ὐτ ὰρ μ ῆλ α κ α κ ο ὶ φθείρουσιν ο μ ῆες.- Bad herdsmen waste the flocks which thou hast left behind.
- XVII. 246 (tr. Worsley).
Δ μ ῶεςδ ',ε ὖτ ' ἂν μηκέτ' ἐπικρατέωσιν ἄνακτες,ο ὐκέτ' ἔπειτ' ἐθέλουσιν ἐναίσιμα ἐργάζεσθαι·
ἥμισυ γάρτ ' ἀρετῆς ἀποαίνυταιε ὐρύοπαΖ ε ὺς
ἀνέρος,ε ὖτ ' ἄν μ ι ν κ α τ ὰ δούλιον ἦμαρ ἕλ ῃσ ι ν .- Servants, when their lords no longer sway,
Their minds no more to righteous courses bend.
Half that man's virtue doth Zeus take away,
Whom he surrenders to the servile day. - XVII. 320–323 (tr. Worsley).
- Servants, when their lords no longer sway,
Α ἰδ ὼςδ 'ο ὐκ ἀγαθὴ κεχρημένῳ ἀνδρὶ παρεῖν α ι .- How ill, alas! do want and shame agree!
- XVII. 347 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Ἐ
π ε ὶο ὔ τις ἐπίσχεσιςο ὐδ ' ἐλεητὺς
ἀλλοτρίων χαρίσασθαι.- Shameless they give, who give what's not their own.
- XVII. 451–452 (tr. Alexander Pope).
Ε ἰ δή πού τις ἐπουράνιος θεός ἐσ τ ι .- If indeed there be a god in heaven.
- XVII. 484 (tr. S. H. Butcher and Andrew Lang).
- Καί
τ ε θ ε ο ὶ ξείνοισιν ἐοικότες ἀλλοδαποῖσ ι ,
παντοῖο ι τελέθοντες, ἐπιστρωφῶσ ι πόληας,
ἀνθρώπων ὕβριντ ε κ α ὶε ὐνομίην ἐφορῶντες.- And gods in guise of strangers from afar in every form do roam our cities, marking the sin and righteousness of men.
- XVII. 485–487 (tr. G. H. Palmer).
- Book XVIII
Ο ὐδ ὲν ἀκιδνότερονγ α ῖα τρέφει ἀνθρώποιο
πάντων, ὅσ σ α τ ε γ α ῖα ν ἔπ ι πνείειτ ε κ α ὶ ἕρπει.- Of all that breathes and crawls across the earth,
our mother earth breeds nothing feebler than a man. - XVIII. 130–131 (tr. Robert Fagles). Cf. Iliad, XVII. 446–447.
- Samuel Butler's translation:
- Man is the vainest of all creatures that have their being upon earth.
- Robert Fitzgerald's translation:
- Of mortal creatures, all that breathe and move,
earth bears none frailer than mankind.
- Of mortal creatures, all that breathe and move,
- Of all that breathes and crawls across the earth,
- Ἀ
λ λ ' ὅγ ε σ ι γ ῇδ ῶρ α θ ε ῶν ἔχ ο ι , ὅτ τ ι δ ι δ ο ῖε ν .- Just take in peace what gifts the gods will send.
- XVIII. 142 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Book XIX
Α ὐτ ὸςγ ὰρ ἐφέλκεται ἄνδρα σίδηρος.- Iron has powers to draw a man to ruin.
- XIX. 13 (tr. Robert Fagles); Odysseus to Telemachus.
Α ἶψ α γ ὰρ ἐν κακότητιβ ρ ο τ ο ὶ καταγηράσκουσιν.- Hardship can age a person overnight.
- XIX. 360 (tr. Robert Fagles).
Δ ο ι α ὶ γάρτ ε πύλαι ἀμενηνῶν ε ἰσ ὶν ὀνείρων·α ἱμ ὲν γ ὰρ κεράεσσι τετεύχαται,α ἱδ ' ἐλέφαντι.τ ῶν ο ἳ μένκ ' ἔλθωσιδ ι ὰ πριστοῦ ἐλέφαντος,ο ἵ ῥ' ἐλεφαίρονται, ἔπ ε ' ἀκράαντα φέροντες·ο ἳδ ὲδ ι ὰ ξεστῶν κεράων ἔλθωσι θύραζε,ο ἵ ῥ' ἔτυμα κραίνουσι, βροτῶν ὅτ ε κέν τις ἴδηται.- Two gates there are for our evanescent dreams,
one is made of ivory, the other made of horn.
Those that pass through the ivory cleanly carved
are will-o'-the-wisps, their message bears no fruit.
The dreams that pass through the gates of polished horn
are fraught with truth, for the dreamer who can see them. - XIX. 563–568 (tr. Robert Fagles); spoken by Penelope.
- Two gates there are for our evanescent dreams,
- Ἀ
λ λ 'ο ὐ γάρ πως ἔστιν ἀΰπνους ἔμμεναια ἰὲν
ἀνθρώπους· ἐπ ὶ γάρτ ο ι ἑκάστῳμ ο ῖραν ἔθηκαν
ἀθάνατοιθ ν η τ ο ῖσ ι ν ἐπ ὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.- But one can't go without his sleep forever.
The immortals give each thing its proper place
in our mortal lives throughout the good green earth. - XIX. 592–594 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- But one can't go without his sleep forever.
- Book XX
- Τέτλαθι δή, κραδίη·
κ α ὶ κύντερον ἄλ λ ο π ο τ ' ἔτλης.- Bear up, old heart! You've borne worse, far worse...
- XX. 18 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- P. S. Worsley's translation:
- Bear up, my soul, a little longer yet;
A little longer to thy purpose cling!
- Bear up, my soul, a little longer yet;
- Νύκτας
δ ' ὕπνος ἔχ ῃσ ι ν , – ὁ γάρτ ' ἐπέλησεν ἁπάντων,
ἐσθλῶν ἠδ ὲ κακῶν , ἐπ ε ὶ ἂρ βλέφαρ' ἀμφικαλύψῃ.- Sweet oblivion, sleep
dissolving all, the good and the bad, once it seals our eyes. - XX. 85–86 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Sweet oblivion, sleep
- Μείδησε
δ ὲ θυμῷ
σαρδάνιον μάλατ ο ῖο ν .- The chief indignant grins a ghastly smile.
- XX. 301–302 (tr. Alexander Pope).
- Book XXI
- Ὡς ὅ
τ ' ἀν ὴρ φόρμιγγος ἐπιστάμενοςκ α ὶ ἀοιδῆς
ῥηϊδίως ἐτάνυσσε νέῳ περὶ κόλλοπι χορδήν.- As when in harp and song adept, a bard
Unlab'ring strains the chord to a new lyre. - XXI. 406–407 (tr. William Cowper).
- As when in harp and song adept, a bard
- Book XXII
- Ὡς κακοεργίης
ε ὐεργεσίη μέγ' ἀμείνων.- Clearly doing good puts doing bad to shame.
- XXII. 374 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Book XXIII
known to us both but hidden from the world.
- Ἔ
σ τ ι γ ὰρ ἥμ ι ν
σήμαθ', ἃδ ὴκ α ὶν ῶϊ κεκρυμμένα ἴδμεν ἀπ ' ἄλλων.- We two have secret signs,
known to us both but hidden from the world. - XXIII. 109–110 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- We two have secret signs,
- Ὅ
τ ε ο ἱ γλυκὺς ὕπνος
λυσιμελὴς ἐπόρουσε, λύων μελεδήματαθ υ μ ο ῦ.- A deep sleep took hold upon him and eased the burden of his sorrows.
- XXIII. 343–344 (tr. Samuel Butler).
- Book XXIV
Τ ο ὶδ ' ἀλλήλους φιλεόντων
ὡςτ ὸ πάρος,π λ ο ῦτοςδ ὲκ α ὶε ἰρήνη ἅλις ἔσ τ ω .- Let them be friends,
devoted as in the old days. Let peace and wealth
come cresting through the land. - XXIV. 485–486 (tr. Robert Fagles).
- Let them be friends,
Misattributed
edit- Men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than of war.
- A misquotation of:
- Πάντων
μ ὲν κόρος ἐσ τ ὶκ α ὶ ὕπνουκ α ὶ φιλότητοςμ ο λ π ῆςτ ε γλυκερῆςκ α ὶ ἀμύμονος ὀρχηθμοῖο ,τ ῶν πέρ τιςκ α ὶμ ᾶλλον ἐέλδεται ἐξ ἔρ ο ν ε ἷν α ι
ἢ πολέμου·Τ ρ ῶεςδ ὲ μάχης ἀκόρητοι ἔασιν.- Men get
Their fill of all things, of sleep and love, sweet song
And flawless dancing, and most men like these things
Much better than war. Only Trojans are always
Thirsty for blood!- Iliad, XIII, 636–639 (tr. Ennis Rees)
- Men get
- The misquotation implies that an overweening love of war was the norm, whereas the real quote decries the Trojans as inhumane for keeping the war going.
- Πάντων
- A misquotation of:
Quotes about Homer
edit—Dante Alighieri
Who, living, had no roof to shroud his head.
—Thomas Heywood
—Alexander Pope
In Homer more than Homer knew.
—Jonathan Swift
- O fortunate adolescens, qui tuae virtutis Homerum praeconem inveneris!
- O happy youth! in having found a Homer to celebrate thy virtues!
- Alexander the Great at the tomb of Achilles, as quoted by Cicero in Pro Archia 24.
- Omero poeta sovrano
- Homer, the sovereign poet.
- Dante Alighieri, Divina Commedia (1321), Inferno, Canto IV, line 88.
- Ὥσπερ
δ ὲκ α ὶτ ὰ σπουδαῖα μάλισταπ ο ι η τ ὴς Ὅμηρος ἦν (μόνοςγ ὰρ ο ὐχ ὅτ ι ε ὖ ἀλ λ ὰκ α ὶ μιμήσεις δραματικὰς ἐποίησεν),ο ὕτωςκ α ὶτ ὸτ ῆςκ ω μ ῳδίαςσ χ ῆμ α π ρ ῶτος ὑπέδειξεν,ο ὐ ψόγον ἀλ λ ὰτ ὸ γελοῖο ν δραματοποιήσας· ὁγ ὰρ Μαργίτης ἀνάλογον ἔχ ε ι , ὥσπερ Ἰλ ι ὰςκ α ὶ ἡ Ὀδύσσειαπ ρ ὸςτ ὰςτ ρ α γ ῳδίας.- As, in the serious style, Homer is pre-eminent among poets, for he alone combined dramatic form with excellence of imitation, so he too first laid down the main lines of comedy, by dramatizing the ludicrous instead of writing personal satire. His Margites bears the same relation to comedy that the Iliad and Odyssey do to tragedy.
- Aristotle, Poetics (tr. S. H. Butcher), section 1448b.
- Δεδίδαχεν
δ ὲ μάλιστα Ὅμηροςκ α ὶτ ο ὺς ἄλλουςψ ε υ δ ῆ λέγειν ὡςδ ε ῖ.- It is Homer who has chiefly taught other poets the art of telling lies skilfully.
- Aristotle, Poetics (tr. S. H. Butcher), section 1460a.
- The translator of Homer should above all be penetrated by a sense of four qualities of his author:—that he is eminently rapid; that he is eminently plain and direct both in the evolution of his thought and in the expression of it, that is, both in his syntax and in his words; that he is eminently plain and direct in the substance of his thought, that is, in his matter and ideas; and, finally, that he is eminently noble.
- Matthew Arnold, On Translating Homer (1861).
- Homer is the most simple in his style of all the great poets, and resembles most the style of the poetical parts of the Old Testament. They can have no conception of his manner, who are acquainted with him in Mr. Pope's translation only. An excellent poetical performance that translation is, and faithful in the main to the original. In some places, it may be thought to have even improved Homer. It has certainly softened some of his rudenesses, and added delicacy and grace to some of his sentiments. But withal, it is no other than Homer modernised. In the midst of the elegance and luxuriancy of Mr. Pope's language, we lose sight of the old bard's simplicity. I know indeed no author, to whom it is more difficult to do justice in a translation, than Homer.
- Hugh Blair, Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres (1784), Lecture XLIII: 'Homer's Iliad and Odyssey—Virgil's Aeneid', p. 407.
- They say no woman could possibly have written the Odyssey. To me, on the other hand, it seems even less possible that a man could have done so. As for its being by a practised and elderly writer, nothing but youth and inexperience could produce anything so naïve and so lovely.
- Samuel Butler, The Note-Books of Samuel Butler (1912), Part XII, 'Translating the Odyssey'.
- Homer's poems were writ from a free fury, an absolute and full soul; Virgil's out of a courtly, laborious, and altogether imitatory spirit: not a simile he hath but is Homer's; not an invention, person, or disposition but is wholly or originally built upon Homerical foundations, and in many places hath the very words Homer useth; ... all Homer's books are such as have been precedents ever since of all sorts of poems; imitating none, nor ever worthily imitated of any.
- George Chapman, dedication to Achilles' Shield (1598).
- Of all books extant in all kinds, Homer is the first and best.
- George Chapman, The Iliads of Homer (1611), Preface to the Reader.
- Somewhere along the Ionian coast opposite Crete and the islands was a town of some sort, probably of the sort that we should call a village or hamlet with a wall. It was called Ilion but it came to be called Troy, and the name will never perish from the earth. A poet who may have been a beggar and a ballad-monger, who may have been unable to read and write, and was described by tradition as a blind, composed a poem about the Greeks going to war with this town to recover the most beautiful woman in the world. That the most beautiful woman in the world lived in that one little town sounds like a legend; that the most beautiful poem in the world was written by somebody who knew of nothing larger than such little towns is a historical fact.
- G. K. Chesterton, The Everlasting Man (1925)
- Mr. Gladstone read Homer for fun, which I thought served him right.
- Winston Churchill, My Early Life, 1930.
- Being such an observer he was always making the most unexpected observations, and painting things that were not only unpainted till then but, apparently, unseen by anyone else.
- Kenyon Cox, Winslow Homer (1914), p. 42.
- Homer is a world; Virgil, a style.
- Mark Van Doren, as quoted in Allen Mandelbaum, trans., The Aeneid of Virgil (1971), p. vi.
- I have found by trial Homer a more pleasing task than Virgil... For the Grecian is more according to my genius than the Latin poet. [...] Virgil was of a quiet, sedate temper; Homer was violent, impetuous, and full of fire. The chief talent of Virgil was propriety of thoughts, and ornament of words; Homer was rapid in his thoughts, and took all the liberties, both of numbers and of expressions, which his language and the age in which he lived allowed him.
- John Dryden, Preface to Fables, Ancient and Modern (1700).
- It is hardly possible to overestimate the importance for Western Literature of the Iliad's demonstration that the fall of an enemy, no less than of a friend or leader, is tragic and not comic. With the Iliad, once for all, an objective and disinterested element enters into the poet's vision of human life. Without this element, poetry is merely instrumental to various social aims, to propaganda, to amusement, to devotion, to instruction: with it, it acquires the authority that since the Iliad it has never lost, an authority based, like the authority of science, on the vision of nature as an impersonal order.
- Northrop Frye, Anatomy of Criticism (1957), p. 319.
- The Homeric epics are the oldest poems in Greek that survive, but certainly not the oldest there were. It is not merely that their structure is too complicated and that we can point to contradictions in their contents; the legend of Homer himself contains many features incompatible with the portrait of the poet which we should construct from the sophisticated, sceptical and even frivolous spirit of the poems. The traditional picture of the blind old singer of Chios is largely made up of memories that go back to the time when a poet was a vates— a priestly and God-inspired seer. His blindness is merely the outward sign of the inward light that fills his being and enables him to see things others cannot see. This bodily infirmity expresses— as does the lameness of the divine smith Hephaestus—a second idea that was current in primitive times, that a maker of poems, ornaments and other products of handicraft can only come from the ranks of those who are unfit for war and foray. But apart from this feature, the legendary ‘Homer’ is an almost perfect example of the mythical poet who was still half-divine, a wonder-worker and a prophet. We find the clearest embodiment of this idea in Orpheus, the primeval singer who had his harp from Apollo and instruction in the art of song from the Muse herself; with his music he could move not merely men and beasts but even rocks and could reclaim Eurydice from the bonds of death. ‘Homer’ no longer boasts such magical power, but still retains the features of an inspired seer and remains conscious of a mysterious and sacred intimacy with the Muse whom he so confidently invokes.
- Arnold Hauser, The Social History of Art, Volume I: From Prehistoric Times to the Middle Ages (1951)
- Seven cities warred for Homer, being dead,
Who, living, had no roof to shroud his head.- Thomas Heywood, The Hierarchy of the Blessed Angels (1635).
- The poems of Homer purported to describe events of the early heroic golden age of Mycenaean Greece, but many of the economic customs Homer described were more characteristic of the late barbaric period, just before 800 B.C.(?), when the epics were supposed to have been written. The forms of government and the economy they describe were feudal, and in some respects resembled Europe's Dark Ages. ..."Gifts" often took the place of royal revenues, taxes, and payments. ...Even craftsmen were often paid for their services in "gifts". Royal revenues also were derived from the king's personal estate, the duty of personal service, tribute, the spoils of war, piracy, and cattle raids. Armies lived off plunder; conquerors were free from taxation.
- Sidney Homer, A History of Interest Rates (1963) p. 32.
- Indignor quandoque bonus dormitat Homerus.
- I'm aggrieved when sometimes even excellent Homer nods.
- Horace, Ars Poetica (c. 18 BC), line 359.
- Oft of one wide expanse had I been told
That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne;
Yet never did I breathe its pure serene
Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold:
Then felt I like some watcher of the skies
When a new planet swims into his ken.
- Once the diction has been established it works of itself. Almost anything the poet wants to say, has only to be turned into this orthodox and ready-made diction and it becomes poetry. 'Whatever Miss T. eats turns into Miss T.'
- C. S. Lewis, A Preface to Paradise Lost (1942)
- In the Odyssey one may liken Homer to the setting sun, of which the grandeur remains without the intensity.
- Longinus, On the Sublime, sec. 9.
- I finished the Iliad to-day... I never admired the old fellow so much, or was so strongly moved by him. What a privilege genius like his enjoys! I could not tear myself away. I read the last five books at a stretch during my walk to-day, and was at last forced to turn into a by-path, lest the parties of walkers should see me blubbering for imaginary beings, the creations of a ballad-maker who has been dead two thousand seven hundred years. What is the power and glory of Caesar and Alexander to that?
- Thomas Babington Macaulay to his niece Margaret (August 1851), quoted in George Otto Trevelyan, The Life and Letters of Lord Macaulay, Volume II (1876), pp. 186-187
- Poetry changes with every generation, but it does not improve or progress. It just changes its styles, trappings and some of its obsessions, but we can still enjoy Sappho and Homer; they are today's news as much as when they were written or recited.
- Marge Piercy "WHY SPECULATE ON THE FUTURE?" in My Life, My Body (2015)
- The first teacher and beginner of all these beauties of tragedy.
- Plato, The Republic (c. 380 BC), 10. 595c, tr. P. Shorey.
- But when to examine every part he came,
Nature and Homer were, he found, the same.- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Criticism (1711), lines 134–135
- Our author's work is a wild paradise, where, if we cannot see all the beauties so distinctly as in an ordered garden, it is only because the number of them is infinitely greater. It is like a copious nursery, which contains the seeds and first productions of every kind, out of which those who followed him have but selected some particular plants, each according to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. If some things are too luxuriant it is owing to the richness of the soil; and if others are not arrived to perfection or maturity, it is only because they are overrun and oppressed by those of a stronger nature.
- Alexander Pope, The Iliad (1727), Preface
- We acknowledge him the father of poetical diction, the first who taught that language of the gods to men.
- Alexander Pope, The Iliad (1727), Preface
- One of the earliest- and perhaps the first-rivals of the hymnology of war, hatred, and revenge made immortal by Homer was the poetry of an Aeolian woman called Sappha by her people but uniformly known to later times as Sappho...Much of Sappho's poetry was of a plaintive tenderness but she had a fervid feeling for love as a saving grace. Several of her feminine disciples also sang of the beauty and healing force of love. Solon the law-giver and Plato the philosopher were deeply affected by her hymns to the great idea of a social power unrecognized by "the Bible of the Greeks": Homer.
- Mary Ritter Beard, Woman as force in history (1946)
- The first notable product of the Hellenic civilization.
- Bertrand Russell, A History of Western Philosophy (1945), Part I: The Pre-Socratics, Ch. 1: The Rise of Greek Civilization.
- Read Homer once, and you can read no more,
For all things else will seem so dull and poor,
You'l wish 't unread; but oft upon him look,
And you will hardly need another book.- John Sheffield, An Essay upon Poetry (1682)
- The poems of Homer and his contemporaries were the delight of infant Greece; they were the elements of that social system which is the column upon which all succeeding civilization has reposed. Homer embodied the ideal perfection of his age in human character; nor can we doubt that those who read his verses were awakened to an ambition of becoming like to Achilles, Hector, and Ulysses: the truth and beauty of friendship, patriotism, and persevering devotion to an object, were unveiled to the depths in these immortal creations.
- But how did you come to have this skill about Homer only, and not about Hesiod or the other poets? Does not Homer speak of the same themes which all other poets handle? Is not war his great argument? and does he not speak of human society and of intercourse of men, good and bad, skilled and unskilled, and of the gods conversing with one another and with mankind, and about what happens in heaven and in the world below, and the generations of gods and heroes? Are not these the themes of which Homer sings?
- As learned commentators view
In Homer more than Homer knew.- Jonathan Swift, On Poetry (1733), lines 103–104.
- Facilius esse Herculi clavam quam Homero versum subripere.
- Notwithstanding the veneration due and paid to Homer, it is very strange, yet true, that among the most learned, and the greatest admirers of antiquity, there is scarce one to be found who ever read the Iliad with that eagerness and rapture which a woman feels when she reads the Novel of Zaïda... The common part of mankind is awed with the fame of Homer, rather than struck with his beauties.
- Voltaire, Essay on Epick Poetry (1727).
- His gods are perhaps at once absurd and entertaining.
- Voltaire, Essay on Epick Poetry (1727).
- It was Homer who gave laws to the artist; it was Homer who inspired the poet.
- Francis Wayland, The Iliad and the Bible, reported in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), pp. 45 & 609.
See also
editTranslations
editThe following translations into English have been used for the quotations:
- The Iliad, trans. Robert Fagles (Penguin, 1991), ISBN 978-1101153635
- The Iliad of Homer, trans. Richmond Lattimore (University of Chicago Press, 1951)
- The Iliad of Homer, trans. Samuel Butler (1898)
- The Iliad of Homer, trans. Andrew Lang, Walter Leaf and Ernest Myers (1883)
- The Iliad of Homer, trans. Edward, Earl of Derby (1864)
- The Iliad of Homer, trans. Alexander Pope (1720)
- The Odyssey, trans. Emily Wilson (W. W. Norton & Company, 2017), ISBN 978-0393089059
- The Odyssey, trans. Robert Fagles (Penguin, 1997), ISBN 978-1101221846
- The Odyssey, trans. Robert Fitzgerald (Doubleday, 1961)
- The Odyssey, trans. E. V. Rieu (Penguin Books, 1946)
- The Odyssey, trans. Samuel Butler (1898)
- The Odyssey, trans. George Herbert Palmer (1884)
- The Odyssey of Homer, trans. Samuel Butcher and Andrew Lang (1879)
- The Odyssey of Homer, trans. Philip Stanhope Worsley and John Conington (1865)
- The Odyssey of Homer, trans. William Cowper (1791)
- The Odyssey of Homer, trans. Alexander Pope (1725)