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Thus with stretched sail, we went over sea till day's end |
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Sun to his slumber, shadows o'er all the ocean |
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Came we then to the bounds of deepest water |
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Covered with close-webbed mist, unpierced ever |
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With glitter of sun-rays |
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Nor with stars stretched, nor looking back from heaven |
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Swartest night stretched over wreteched men there |
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The ocean flowing backward, came we then to the place |
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Aforesaid by Circe |
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Here did they rites, Perimedes and Eurylochus |
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And drawing sword from my hip |
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I dug the ell-square pitkin; |
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Poured we libations unto each the dead |
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First mead and then sweet wine, water mixed with white flour |
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Then prayed I many a prayer to the sickly death's-heads; |
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As set in Ithaca, sterile bulls of the best |
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For sacrifice, heaping the pyre with goods |
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A sheep to Tiresias only, black and a bell-sheep |
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Dark blood flowed in the fosse |
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Souls out of Erebus, cadaverous dead, of brides |
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Of youths and of the old who had borne much; |
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Souls stained with recent tears, girls tender |
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Men many, mauled with bronze lance heads |
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Battle spoil, bearing yet dreory arms |
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These many crowded about me; with shouting |
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Pallor upon me, cried to my men for more beasts; |
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Slaughtered the herds, sheep slain of bronze; |
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Poured ointment, cried to the gods |
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To Pluto the strong, and praised Proserpine; |
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Unsheathed the narrow sword |
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I sat to keep off the impetuous impotent dead |
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Till I should hear Tiresias |
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But first Elpenor came, our friend Elpenor |
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Unburied, cast on the wide earth |
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Limbs that we left in the house of Circe |
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Unwept, unwrapped in the sepulchre, since toils urged other |
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Pitiful spirit |
