The Iliad

Homer, Caroline Alexander

• Editorial: Ecco
• Año: 2015
• ISBN:
  9780062046291
• Categoría: Littérature
• Categoría: Poésie antique

With her virtuoso translation, classicist and bestselling author Caroline Alexander brings to life Homer's timeless epic of the Trojan War

Composed around 730 B.C., Homer's Iliad recounts the events of a few momentous weeks in the protracted ten-year war between the invading Achaeans, or Greeks, and the Trojans in their besieged city of Ilion. From the explosive confrontation between Achilles, the greatest warrior at Troy, and Agamemnon, the inept leader of the Greeks, through to its tragic conclusion, The Iliad explores the abiding, blighting facts of war.

Soldier and civilian, victor and vanquished, hero and coward, men, women, young, old— The Iliad evokes in poignant, searing detail the fate of every life ravaged by the Trojan War. And, as told by Homer, this ancient tale of a particular Bronze Age conflict becomes a sublime and sweeping evocation of the destruction of war throughout the ages.

Carved close to the original Greek, acclaimed classicist Caroline Alexander's new translation is swift and lean, with the driving cadence of its source—a translation epic in scale and yet devastating in its precision and power.

1. ILIÁDOS A

Wrath—sing, goddess, of the ruinous wrath of Peleus’ son Achilles,

that inflicted woes without number upon the Achaeans,

hurled forth to Hades many strong souls of warriors

and rendered their bodies prey for the dogs,

for all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished;

sing from when they two first stood in conflict—

Atreus’ son, lord of men, and godlike Achilles.

Which of the gods, then, set these two together in conflict, to fight?

Apollo, son of Leto and Zeus; who in his rage at the king

raised a virulent plague through the army; the men were dying 10

because the son of Atreus dishonored the priest Chryses.

For he came to the Achaeans’ swift ships

bearing countless gifts to ransom his daughter,

holding in his hands on a golden staff the wreaths of Apollo

who strikes from afar, and beseeched all the Achaeans—

but mostly the two sons of Atreus, marshalers of men:

“Sons of Atreus and you other strong-greaved Achaeans,

may the gods who have homes on Olympus grant you

to plunder the city of Priam, and reach your home safely;

release to me my beloved daughter, take instead the ransom, 20

revering Zeus’ son who strikes from afar—Apollo.”

Then the rest of the Achaeans all shouted assent,

to respect the priest and accept the splendid ransom;

but this did not please the heart of Atreus’ son Agamemnon,

and violently he sent him away and laid a powerful warning upon him:

“Let me not find you, old man, near our hollow ships,

either loitering now or coming again later,

lest the god’s staff and wreath not protect you.

The girl I will not release; sooner will old age come upon her

in our house, in Argos, far from her homeland, 30

pacing back and forth by the loom and sharing my bed.

So go, do not make me angry, and you will return the safer.”

Thus he spoke; and the old man was afraid and obeyed his word,

and he went in silence along the shore of the tumultuous sea.

And going aside, the old man fervently prayed

to lord Apollo, whom lovely-haired Leto bore:

“Hear me, God of the silver bow, you who stand over Chryse

and Killa most holy, you whose might rules Tenedos,

God of Plague; if ever I roofed over a temple that pleased you,

or if ever I burned as sacrifice to you the fatty thighbones 40

of bulls and of goats—grant me this wish:

May the Danaans pay for my tears with your arrows.”

Thus he prayed, and Phoebus Apollo heard him,

and set out from the heights of Olympus, rage in his heart,

with his bow on his shoulders and his hooded quiver;

the arrows clattered on his shoulders as he raged,

as the god himself moved; and he came like the night.

Then far from the ships he crouched, and let loose an arrow—

and terrible was the ring of his silver bow.

First he went after the mules and sleek dogs, 50

but then, letting fly a sharp arrow, he struck at the men themselves,

and the crowded pyres of the dead burned without ceasing.

Nine days the shafts of the god flew through the army,

and on the tenth Achilles summoned the people to assembly;

the goddess of the white arms, Hera, put this in his mind,

for she was distressed for the Danaans, since she saw them dying.

And when they were gathered together and assembled,

Achilles of the swift feet stood and addressed them:

“Son of Atreus, I now think that, staggering back,

we shall go home again—if we escape death that is— 60

if after all war and plague alike are to rout the Achaeans;

but come—let us ask some seer, or priest,

or even an interpreter of dreams, for a dream, too, is from Zeus,

who may tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so greatly angered,

if perhaps he faults our vows and sacrifice,

and whether receiving the burnt fat of sheep, of goats without blemish,

he may somehow be willing to avert our destruction.”

Thus Achilles spoke and sat down. Then stood among them

Calchas the son of Thestor, far the most eminent of bird-seers,

who knew things that are, and things to come, and what had gone before, 70

and had guided the ships of the Achaeans to Troy,

through his divination, which Phoebus Apollo gave him.

He in his wisdom spoke and addressed them:

“O Achilles, dear to Zeus, you bid me state the reason

for the wrath of Apollo, the lord who strikes from afar.

Then I will speak, but you listen closely and swear an oath to me

that in good earnest you will stand by me in word ...