The Odyssey Vocabulary (Books 1, 2, 9, & 12)

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.

Recalling Aegisthus, Zeus harangued the immortal powers.

Great Odysseus who excels all men in wisdom, excels in offerings too he gives the immortal gods who rule the vaulting skies.

But break off this song-- the unendurable song that always rends the heart inside me...

Telemachus, off to his bedroom built in the fine courtyard-- a commanding, lofty room set well apart-- retired too, his spirit swarming with misgivings.

And now, at long last, I might have reached my native land unscathed, but just as I doubled Malea's cape, a tide-rip and the North Wind drove me way off course careering past Cythera.

Once we'd had our fill of food and drink I sent a detail ahead, two picked men and a third, a runner, to scout out who might live there-- men like us perhaps, who live on bread?

I brought it here to make you a fine libation, hoping you would pity me, Cyclops, send me home, but your rages are insufferable.

Once we'd burned the dead man and the dead man's armor, heaping his grave-mound, hauling a stone that coped it well...

And Athena lavished a marvelous splendor on the prince so the people all gazed in wonder as he came forward, the elders making way as he took his father's seat.

Not they-- they infest our palace day and night, they butcher our cattle, our sheep, our fat goats, feasting themselves sick, swilling our glowing wine as if there's no tomorrow-- all of it, squandered.

We'd approach you for reparations round the town, demanding our goods till you'd returned the lot.

So long as she persists in tormenting us, quick to exploit the gifts Athena gave her-- a skilled hand for elegant work, a fine mind and subtle wiles too-- we've never heard the like...

...we've never heard the like, not even in old stories sung of all Achaea's well-coifed queens who graced the years gone by: Mycenae crowned with garlands, Tyro and Alcmena...

If you, you old codger, wise as the ages, talk him round, incite the boy to riot, he'll be the first to suffer, let me tell you.

Never courting others, bevies of brides who'd suit each noble here.

Eurymachus-- the rest of you fine, brazen suitors-- I have done with appeals to you about these matters.