Description
We sailed away from there with heavy hearts,
grieving for dear companions we had lost,
though glad we had avoided death ourselves,
until we reached the island of Aeaea,
home of that dread goddess, fair-haired Circe,
who possessed a human voice—blood sister
to murderous Aeetes, both children
of sun god Helios, who gives men light.
Perse, child of Ocean, was their mother.
Here, in silence, we brought our ship to land,
inside a harbor with fine anchorage.
Some god was guiding us. We disembarked
and laid up in that spot two days and nights,
our hearts consumed with weariness and pain.
When fair-haired Dawn gave birth to the third day,
with my sharp sword and spear I quickly climbed
above the ships up to a vantage point,
to see if I could notice signs of men
or hear voices. From the rocky lookout
where I was standing, I saw smoke rising
above the spacious grounds of Circe's home
through dense brush and trees. Seeing the smoke,
my mind and heart considered going down
to look around. But as I thought about it,
the best initial action seemed to be
to get back to our ship along the shore,
let my companions eat, then send them out
to reconnoiter. On my way back there,
in a lonely place close to our curved ship,
some god pitied me and sent across my path
a huge stag with massive antlers, on its way
from pastures in the woods towards the stream
to slake its thirst—the sun's heat forced it down.
As it came out, I struck it in the spine,
the middle of its back. My bronze-tipped spear
sliced right through—with a groan the stag collapsed,
down in the dust its spirit left the beast.
I planted my feet and pulled my bronze spear
out of the wound and left it lying there,
on the ground. I picked up some willow shoots
and wove a rope about six feet in length,
by plaiting them together back and forth,
until they were well twisted. After that,
I tied the huge creature's feet together,
and, carrying it across my back, returned
to my black ship. I had to support myself
by leaning on my spear—there was no way
I could just sling a beast as large as that
and hold it on my shoulder with one hand.
I tossed the stag down right before our ship,
encouraging the crew with words of comfort.
I stood by each of them in turn:
'My friends,
we're not going down to Hades—not just yet,
although we're grieving, not until the day
we must confront our fate. So come on now,
while there's still food and drink in our swift ship,
let's think of eating, so we don't waste away
and die of hunger.'
That's what I said. my words
soon won them over. Uncovering their heads,
they saw the stag there and were astonished
at such a huge beast lying by the sea.
Once they'd had their fill of looking at it,
they washed their hands and made a splendid meal.
So all day long until the sun went down
we sat feasting on that large supply of meat
and on sweet wine. After the sun had set
and darkness came, we lay down on the shore.