The OdysseyAge-adapted version

Before the song begins, you must know this: There are stories that have been told for so long that no one remembers who first told them. They become one tale, like a river that receives many streams. The most important thing is that we follow a man who never gave up, no matter how long the sea tried to swallow him.

Now we ask the Muse for help to sing of Odysseus, the clever king from the island of Ithaca. After Troy fell and the war was over, he had to learn the customs of others, endure storms sent by angry gods, trick monsters and fight for his life. His men were lost because they did something foolish, something they had been warned against: They ate the sun god's sacred cattle. Odysseus himself was held captive on the island of the nymph Calypso for seven long years. She promised him eternal life if he stayed with her, but he would rather see smoke rising from the chimney on his own roof.

Up on Olympus, the mountain of the gods, they spoke of him. Zeus, the mightiest, said that people often blame the gods for misfortunes they themselves choose. Athena, the goddess of wisdom, nodded. She was fond of Odysseus and begged for mercy. But Poseidon, god of the sea, was still furious. Odysseus had blinded his son, the Cyclops Polyphemus. He did not forget that. But Poseidon was far away, and in the meantime Hermes was told to tell Calypso that she must set Odysseus free.

Athena took matters into her own hands. She went down to Ithaca, disguised as an old friend of the family.

In the hall on Ithaca sat a group of young men, eating and drinking as much as they could. They called themselves suitors to Penelope, Odysseus's wife, but in truth they were just living off the labor of others. They helped themselves to oxen and sheep, drank the wine, and soon they would empty the entire royal estate.

Telemachus, the son, sat among them with a face stiff with anger. He missed a father who could slam his fist on the table and chase them out. He looked up when Athena came in, disguised as Mentes. He welcomed her in the way custom demanded: He gave her food and a good seat, for he was ashamed of the noise.

She asked outright: Why do you let these men eat you out of house and home? Call the people together tomorrow. Tell them to stop. If your mother wants to marry, it must happen as custom dictates, not here with plundering. And you yourself must go to inquire about your father.

Telemachus listened. Something in her voice made him feel heavier, more grown-up. When she rose and disappeared like a bird without leaving a trace, he realized that a god had spoken to him.

He went to his room that evening with a new thought in his mind: He would find out whether his father was alive or dead.

That same evening, Penelope came down into the hall. The singer sang about heroes struggling to return home, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Telemachus rose. He spoke to her gently but firmly: 'Go up to your loom and the serving women. The singer may sing what he wishes.' She stopped, surprised at her son who suddenly spoke like a man, and quietly went back up.

The suitors sniffed and hurled cutting words at the boy. Antinous, the boldest, laughed loudly: 'You should be at home guarding your books, young boy.' Telemachus answered calmly that tomorrow he would speak to all in the town square. He said it with a voice they had not heard before.

That night he lay awake. At dawn he gathered old men, shepherds, fishermen, and all who would listen. It was the first time anyone had called the people together since Odysseus left for Troy.

He spoke directly: My father is gone. These men are eating up everything we own. My mother cries every night. I ask you for help.

Antinous laughed again. He told them that Penelope had deceived them for three years: She wove a shroud by day and unraveled it by night. Now she was found out. Let her go home to her father and choose a husband there.

Telemachus refused to drive his mother from the house. Then came the sign: Two eagles circled over the assembly and tore each other to pieces. An old seer said that this foretold Odysseus's homecoming and the suitors' downfall. They laughed at him.

The assembly broke up without anything being decided. But Telemachus had gotten a plan.

At the shore, Telemachus asked for advice from the goddess who had visited him. Athena came, now as Mentor, an old friend of the house. She promised to help. She arranged a swift ship, found young men to row, and filled jars with wine and sacks with grain.

Telemachus went to the storeroom to fetch supplies. The old nurse Eurycleia cried when she realized what he was planning. She swore to keep it secret.

That evening, Athena sent a deep sleep over the suitors. They drank themselves drunk and staggered home. In the moonlight, Telemachus went on board. The ship slipped out into the darkness while the stars stood clear above them. Athena sat as pilot at the helm and showed the direction.

This was how the boy's first own journey began. He left everything he knew and sailed out into the great sea to find answers.

The ship cut the waves, and the wind filled the sail. Telemachus looked back at Ithaca, which became smaller and smaller, until it was just a dot on the horizon. He felt fear, but also something else: a pride in finally doing something.

He fell asleep on the bench while Athena held the course.

In Pylos, by the sandy coast, people stood gathered. They sacrificed black oxen to Poseidon and prayed for a good catch. Athena whispered to Telemachus: Go straight ahead. Do not be afraid.

Nestor, the old king, received him with bread, meat, and red wine in a golden cup. He said that this is how guests should be met, with honor and warmth.

When they had eaten, Nestor told about Troy. He remembered his own son who fell in the war, and the friends who never came home. He told that when Troy was finally taken, the leaders disagreed. Some sailed at once, others waited. Odysseus turned back at the last moment. Since then Nestor had only heard rumors.

He looked at Telemachus with old, wise eyes: Your father? I don't know where he is. But travel to Menelaus in Sparta. He traveled the farthest and came home last. Perhaps he knows more.

The next day Nestor made a great fuss over the guests. A young cow with gilded horns was dedicated to Athena. Telemachus was bathed and anointed, and set off in a chariot with Nestor's son Peisistratus.

They drove through fields and past rivers, slept at a friend's place along the way, and arrived in Sparta in the evening. There Menelaus waited in his hall, surrounded by gold and splendor.

Sparta’s hall shone like a sun. The light fell on ivory and gemstones. Menelaus received them with open arms. But even in a king’s house, joy tasted a little bitter. Menelaus had gathered wealth, but he missed his brother Agamemnon and wept for the men who died.

One man pains me more than any, he said. Odysseus. He was the wisest, the bravest. Without him we would never have taken Troy.

When he mentioned the name, Telemachus' eyes filled with tears. Helen, Menelaus' wife, came in. She looked at the young guest and recognized his face. It resembled Odysseus' face.

Now grief broke loose for all four. They wept together, no longer kings and guests, but people who had lost something dear.

Helen brought a mild medicine from Egypt, which calmed the sorrow for a while. Then she told how Odysseus snuck into Troy, dressed as a beggar, with whip marks on his back. Only she recognized him. She washed his wounds and kept quiet. The next night he opened the gates for the Greeks.

Menelaus told about the hollow wooden horse. Helen walked around it and called out with the voice of each warrior's wife. The men inside the horse wanted to call back, but Odysseus held his hand over their mouths. Thus Troy fell.

The next day Menelaus asked the guests who they really were.

Telemachus told everything about the suitors who were eating up the house, and about his mother who was waiting. Menelaus became angry in true fashion. Such things must never stand, he said. If only Odysseus came home.

Then he told his own story. He had been trapped in Egypt, and had to capture the sea god Proteus to get advice. Together with his men he hid under seal skins and waited. When Proteus slept, they grabbed him. He changed form, became a lion, snake, wild boar, water, tree. They held on.

Finally he gave in and told the truth: Ajax had drowned. Agamemnon was killed at home. And Odysseus was on the island of Calypso, without a ship, held captive by a goddess.

Telemachus listened with his heart in his throat. His father was alive. He was trapped, but alive.

When he returned home, bad news awaited. The suitors had found out that he had left. Antinous set an ambush at a small island. Fortunately, Penelope learned of the plan. She wept and prayed to Athena for help. At night, a dream came saying that her son would return home. But about Odysseus it said nothing.

Out on the sea, the suitors lay with sharp eyes, waiting. The night was dark and full of danger.

On Olympus, Athena reminded Zeus of his promise. Odysseus was a wise king who looked after his people like a father. Zeus nodded. Hermes was told to go to Calypso.

He flew over sea and land, over mountains and valleys, and found her cave. It was beautiful, surrounded by vines and violets, with streams that sang. But Calypso became sad when she heard the message.

Why can gods take mortal mistresses, while goddesses are blamed? she said. But she bowed to Zeus's will. She promised Odysseus axe, timber, sails, food and everything he needed.

She found him on the beach, where he sat staring out over the sea. He looked toward a place that did not exist within sight: home.

Calypso told him that she had to let him go. Odysseus looked at her without smiling. He set about building a raft. He measured, sawed, drilled, fastened and tarred. On the fourth day he hoisted the sail.

For seventeen days he sailed, with the stars as his guides. He followed the Big Dipper and held his course. On the eighteenth day he glimpsed land with mountains on the horizon: the land of the Phaeacians, Scheria.

Then Poseidon saw him. The god of the sea was returning from a feast and felt his anger flare up. He lifted the sea. The waves grew like walls, the wind tore at the sail, and the raft shattered like a twig.

Odysseus was thrown into the water. The salt stung his wounds. He struggled to keep his head above water.

A white goddess rose from the waves. Ino, who had once been human, reached out a veil to him. 'Tie it around your chest,' she said. 'Leave the raft. Swim. Throw the veil back when you are safe.'

Odysseus hesitated. He did not easily trust strangers. But the next wave toppled the raft, and he had no choice. He swam.

For two days and two nights he fought the waves. Athene calmed the storm little by little. On the third day he saw land. But the cliffs were sharp as teeth, and the breakers hurled him against them. He realized he would be crushed.

He swam along the coast and looked for a river mouth. He prayed to the river god for mercy. The current turned and carried him inland. He crawled up on the bank, exhausted, and threw the veil back into the water. Ino received it.

He found a place under two trees, a wild olive and a grafted olive growing from the same root. He gathered leaves and dug himself down. Under his neck he placed a branch. Then he fell asleep, deeper than he had slept in many years.

On Olympus, Athena looked down at him. She knew what had to happen now. She entered the dream of Nausicaa, daughter of King Alcinous.

The dream whispered: Tomorrow you must wash the clothes. Bring your friends. Ask your father for a wagon. And when you come to the river, be open to the unexpected.

Nausicaa woke with a smile. In the morning she went to her father and asked for a wagon. She said she needed to wash clothes, but there was something more in her voice. The king understood and gave her what she asked for.

By the river the girls washed the clothes and hung them to dry on warm stones. They anointed themselves with oil, ate bread, and when everything was done, they threw a ball. One throw went too far. The ball hit the water with a splash. Their cries woke the man sleeping under the leaves.

Odysseus stood up. He was naked, covered in salt and dirt. He tore off a branch to cover himself and walked towards them.

The girls screamed and ran. Only Nausicaa remained standing. She looked at the stranger, dirty and weary, but with something in his eyes that was not easy to forget.

Odysseus chose his words carefully. He praised her for her courage. He did not tell her who he was, but asked for clothes and the way to the city. He said something that struck her: Nothing is better than a home where two who are one in mind carry the days together.

Nausicaa was first afraid, but gathered herself. She reminded her friends that strangers stand under Zeus's protection. She gave him clothes and oil and let him wash himself a little by himself in the river.

Athene did what she usually did: She made him look like his best self. His hair fell more nicely, his shoulders straightened. Nausicaa blushed and thought that she would like such a man to come from her people. But she was wise enough to think of rumors and rules.

Nausicaa showed Odysseus the way to the city. She asked him to wait in a sacred grove before he entered, and she gave him a final piece of advice: Go straight to my mother, Arete. If she becomes your friend, all is won.

Athene placed a mist around Odysseus so no one would question him too soon. As a young water-carrier, she showed him the way to the great house.

Outside the gate she lifted her veil. He saw a hall unlike any hall he had seen: dogs of gold and silver lay by the doorposts, the trees in the garden bore fruit all year round, and the water flowed where it should.

He went inside. The men were seated at the table. He went straight to Arete and fell to his knees before her. The silence grew heavy. No one knew what to say.

Then an old man rose and said what everyone was thinking: This is not how you treat a guest. King Alcinous lifted Odysseus from the floor and seated him next to his own son. They gave him a bath, clothes, and food.

Arete looked at his clothes. She recognized the threads. It was fabric from her own house. Who are you? she asked. Where do you come from? How did you get these clothes?

Odysseus told the truth, but not the whole truth. He said that his ship was wrecked, that he drifted for nine days, that he was held captive by a nymph, and that Nausicaa had found him and given him clothes.

King Alcinous smiled. He saw that this was a special man. He promised to bring him safely home, no matter how far it was, and said with a twinkle in his eye that he would gladly have him as a son-in-law.

Odysseus thanked him politely, but only asked to go home.

The next day, games and songs were held in honor of the guest. The blind singer Demodokos was led in. He sang about Troy, about the quarrel between Odysseus and Achilles, about heroes who fell and cities that burned.

Odysseus held his cloak over his face. Tears streamed down, and he did not want anyone to see. But the king noticed it.

One of the young men mocked Odysseus and said he was surely more a merchant than a warrior. It burned in Odysseus. He stood up, took the heaviest discus and threw it farther than anyone else had thrown. He looked at them with calm strength.

The gods distribute gifts unequally, he said. But strength is not everything. The king smoothed things over and said that the Phaeacians were best at dancing and seamanship, not in war.

Demodocus sang again, this time a funny song about love and jealousy that made the whole hall laugh. Gifts were brought forth: beautiful cloaks, a sword with a silver hilt, and a box of jewels.

Nausicaa met Odysseus's gaze at the door. "Remember me," she said quietly. He promised it, and he meant it.

In the evening, Odysseus asked the singer to sing about the hollow horse. Demodocus sang about how the Greeks hid inside the tree, about the doubt in Troy, about Athena's hand on Odysseus's shoulder as they fought house by house.

Again the tears flowed. Now the king could no longer contain himself. He rose and said: Now you must say who you are. Your name, your home, your journey. We want to know what you have been carrying.

Odysseus lifted his head. He spoke his name loudly and clearly. Ithaca, he said. I am Odysseus, son of Laertes, king of Ithaca.

The silence in the hall was thick enough to cut. Then he began to tell.

After Troy we sailed to Ismaros. We took the city, but my men would not leave. The enemy came with reinforcements, and we lost six men from each ship. Then Zeus raised a storm. We drifted for nine days.

On the tenth day we came to the land of the lotus-eaters. They gave us flowers. Those who tasted forgot everything about home and family. They just wanted to stay and eat more lotus. I had to tie them to the benches and drag them away while they wept.

Thus we came to the land of the Cyclopes. Huge, one-eyed men who lived in caves and cared nothing for laws or guests. I took one ship and went to the mainland. We found a cave full of cheese and milk.

My men begged to take it and leave. But I wanted to meet the host. I wanted to see what kind of man he was.

In the evening he came. Polyphemus. He was larger than any human I have ever seen. When he saw us, he took two of my men and crushed them against the stone wall. Then he ate them.

I held my sword, but I knew that even if I killed him, we could not move the stone that blocked the entrance. We were prisoners.

In the morning Polyphemus ate two more men. Then he let the animals out and closed the cave again. I thought and thought. Finally I found a trick.

There was a large olive trunk in the cave, so thick that it could be the mast of a ship. I cut off a piece, sharpened it in the fire and hid the tip in dung. Then we waited.

When the Cyclops came back in the evening and ate two more men, I went forward with a wineskin I had. Drink, I said. Try this wine. He drank and became happy. He asked what my name was.

I answered: Nobody. My family calls me Nobody.

He laughed. Then I will eat you last, Nobody. All your friends first. Then he fell asleep, heavy and drunk.

Now we lifted the stake, heated the tip in the fire, and thrust it into his eye. It sizzled like water on glowing iron. He screamed so that the neighbors came and asked what was going on.

Nobody is killing me! he shouted. Nobody by cunning, Nobody by force.

Then the neighbors left. If nobody is hurting you, it must be the gods' punishment.

In the morning he sat in the doorway and felt the back of each sheep as it went out. I tied my men under the largest rams, two by two. I myself clung under the largest goat.

We got out. We rowed away. I couldn't hold back. I shouted: Say it was Odysseus, Laertes' son from Ithaca, who put out your eye!

Then he threw rocks after us and prayed to his father, Poseidon, for revenge.

After the Cyclops we came to Aeolus, the keeper of the winds. He received us as guests and gave me a leather sack. In the sack he had bound all the dangerous winds. Only the gentle breeze that blew us home was allowed to be free.

For nine days we sailed. On the tenth day we saw the smoke from Ithaca. I was so tired that I fell asleep. Then my men opened the bag. They thought there was gold inside.

The winds rushed out. The storm blew us all the way back to Aeolus' island. He realized that the gods hated us and refused to help.

We rowed on and came to the land of the Laestrygonians. They were giants. They crushed our ships with stones and ate the men. Only my own ship escaped.

Then we came to Circe, a goddess who lived on an island. Wolves and lions lay tame outside her house. She was beautiful and sang. She offered my men wine. When they drank, she struck them with her staff and turned them into pigs.

I went alone to save them. On the way, I met Hermes, who gave me an herb that protected against sorcery. When Circe tried to bewitch me, I drew my sword and forced her to turn them back into men.

We stayed with her for a whole year. We ate and drank and rested. But finally my men said: We must go home.

Circe said that before I could leave, I had to journey to the realm of the dead and ask the seer Teiresias for advice.

I went to the realm of the dead. There I offered blood to the shades, and they flocked to me. I kept them away with my sword until Teiresias came.

He drank the blood and spoke: Poseidon will pursue you. Avoid the sun god's sacred cattle. If your men slaughter them, all will die. You alone can survive.

He also said that at home suitors were waiting, draining my house. I had to kill them.

I met my mother down there. She died of grief while I was away. I tried to embrace her, but my arms went straight through. She was only a shadow.

I also met Agamemnon, who warned me against blindly trusting anyone. And Achilles, who said that even the poorest farmer alive is happier than a king among the dead.

Then I went back to the ship.

At Circe's, I got more advice: When you come to the Sirens, plug your men's ears with wax. Tie me myself to the mast, for their song is irresistible.

We followed the advice. The Siren song was so beautiful that I wanted to tear myself loose, but the men held me tight.

Then we came to the strait between Scylla and Charybdis. I chose Scylla. She took six of my men with her heads, but the rest got through.

Finally, we came to the sun god's island. There lay the sacred cattle. I made my men swear not to touch them. But one night, while I slept, they slaughtered them. The meat sang on the spit. The sun god went to Zeus and demanded revenge.

Zeus sent a lightning bolt. The ship broke in two. All my men died. Only I was left lying on a plank. I drifted for nine days before I reached Calypso's island.

There I stayed for seven years.

The Phaeacians kept their word. They launched a ship with the best rowers, carried Odysseus's gifts on board, and spread a soft blanket under him. When night came, he slept as he had not slept in many years. The ship flew over the sea, swift as a thought.

At dawn they laid him gently on the shore of Ithaca, with all the gifts safely placed beside him. And they sailed back home.

Odysseus woke and did not recognize his own island. Athena had cast a mist over everything. He grew frightened, suspicious. Was this another trap?

Then Athena came to him, first as a young shepherd boy, then in her true form. He threw his arms around her. She smiled sternly and kindly: 'Now you must be the cunning one you have always been.' She struck him with her staff. His skin became wrinkled, his clothes tattered. He became a beggar.

'Go to Eumaeus, the swineherd,' she said. 'He is loyal. He will take you in.'

Eumaios' hut was simple, but his heart was warm. He gave the stranger soup and a place by the fire. He complained about the suitors who were ruining the house, but without losing hope. He missed his master more than anything.

While they chatted, Athena sent a new gust of wind over the sea. Telemachus sailed home from Sparta. The suitors still lay in ambush, but Athena warned the boy in time. He came ashore at night and went into hiding.

First to Eumaios' hut.

There he met the beggar who sat by the fire.

Telemachus looked at the strange beggar. There was something about the way he sat, something about the way he listened. Eumaios said that he was a poor wretch who had drifted over the sea.

Athena saw that the time had come. She brushed off Odysseus's beggar's disguise, smoothed his skin, let his shoulders rise.

Telemachus took a step back. He thought he saw a ghost or a god. But Odysseus said his name with a voice that came from somewhere deep in his chest.

It took a moment. Then the son fell around his father's neck. They wept without shame.

Together they laid a plan. Odysseus would enter as a beggar and endure whatever came. Telemachus would hide the weapons in the storeroom. When the time came, they would strike.

The day came. Odysseus entered his hall. He saw his things without owning them. He asked for bread. Some gave, many laughed. Antinous threw a stool at him. It hit his shoulder. Odysseus stood still as a rock.

That day Penelope came down and told the suitors about the test: Whoever could string Odysseus's bow and shoot an arrow through twelve axe shafts would have her.

The next day they tried. No one could do it. Then the beggar took the bow. He strung it as if it were made for his hands. The arrow went straight through all twelve.

Athena let the glory fall upon him again. He looked at Antinous and said: Your turn.

Thus Odysseus took back his house. Together with his son and the loyal servants, he cleaned up. The suitors got what they deserved.

When Penelope finally believed it was him, that he had truly returned, she wept with joy. They lay in the bed built around an olive tree, and the nightingale sang outside.

Odysseus had come home. It had taken twenty years, but he was there. Some things are worth a long journey. Finding one's home is one of them.