Homer (Greek Text) - The Odyssey, Part Two lyrics

But there were two men in the mountain hut— Odysseus and the swineherd. At first light blowing their fire up, they cooked their breakfast and sent their lads out, driving herds to root in the tall timber. 935 When Telemachus came, the wolfish troop of watchdogs only fawned on him as he advanced. Odysseus heard them go and heard the light crunch of a man's footfall— at which he turned quickly to say: “Eumaeus, 940 here is one of your crew come back, or maybe another friend: the dogs are out there snuffling belly down; not one has even growled. I can hear footsteps—” But before he finished his tall son stood at the door. 945 The swineherd rose in surprise, letting a bowl and jug tumble from his fingers. Going forward, he kissed the young man's head, his shining eyes and both hands, while his own tears brimmed and fell. Think of a man whose dear and only son, 950 born to him in exile, reared with labor, has lived ten years abroad and now returns: how would that man embrace his son! Just so the herdsman clapped his arms around Telemachus and covered him with kisses—for he knew 955 the lad had got away from d**h. He said: “Light of my days, Telemachus, you made it back! When you took ship for Pylos I never thought to see you here again. Come in, dear child, and let me feast my eyes; 960 here you are, home from the distant places! How rarely, anyway, you visit us, your own men, and your own woods and pastures! Always in the town, a man would think you loved the suitors' company, those dogs!” 965 Telemachus with his clear candor said: “I am with you, Uncle. See now, I have come because I wanted to see you first, to hear from you if Mother stayed at home—or is she married off to someone, and Odysseus' bed 970 left empty for some gloomy spider's weaving?” Gently the forester replied to this:“ At home indeed your mother is, poor lady still in the women's hall. Her nights and days are wearied out with grieving.” Stepping back 975 he took the bronze-shod lance, and the young prince entered the cabin over the worn door stone. Odysseus moved aside, yielding his couch, but from across the room Telemachus checked him: “Friend, sit down; we'll find another chair 980 in our own hut. Here is the man to make one!” The swineherd, when the quiet man sank down, built a new pile of evergreens and fleeces— a couch for the dear son of great Odysseus— then gave them trenchers of good meat, left over 985 from the roast pork of yesterday, and heaped up willow baskets full of bread, and mixed an ivy bowl of honey-hearted wine. Then he in turn sat down, facing Odysseus, their hands went out upon the meat and drink 990 as they fell to, ridding themselves of hunger. . . . . . . She tipped her golden wand upon the man, making his cloak pure white, and the knit tunic fresh around him. Lithe and young she made him, ruddy with sun, his jawline clean, the beard 995 no longer gray upon his chin. And she withdrew when she had done. Then Lord Odysseus reappeared—and his son was thunderstruck. Fear in his eyes, he looked down and away as though it were a god, and whispered: “Stranger, 1000 you are no longer what you were just now! Your cloak is new; even your skin! You are one of the gods who rule the sweep of heaven! Be kind to us, we'll make you fair oblation and gifts of hammered gold. Have mercy on us!” 1005 The noble and enduring man replied: “No god. Why take me for a god? No, no. I am that father whom your boyhood lacked and suffered pain for lack of. I am he.” Held back too long, the tears ran down his cheeks as he embraced his son. 1010 Only Telemachus, uncomprehending, wild with incredulity, cried out: “You cannot be my father Odysseus! Meddling spirits conceived this trick to twist the knife in me! 1015 No man of woman born could work these wonders by his own craft, unless a god came into it with ease to turn him young or old at will. I swear you were in rags and old, and here you stand like one of the immortals!” 1020 Odysseus brought his ranging mind to bear and said: “This is not princely, to be swept away by wonder at your father's presence. No other Odysseus will ever come, for he and I are one, the same; his bitter 1025 fortune and his wanderings are mine. Twenty years gone, and I am back again on my own island. . . .” Then, throwing his arms around this marvel of a father, Telemachus began to weep. Salt tears 1030 rose from the wells of longing in both men, and cries burst from both as keen and fluttering as those of the great taloned hawk, whose nestlings farmers take before they fly. So helplessly they cried, pouring out tears, 1035 and might have gone on weeping so till sundown. . . . (from Book 16)