{"id":2979,"date":"2013-07-13T01:45:05","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:05","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=2979"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:45:05","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:05","slug":"30-two-poems-in-quantitative-hexameters-contd-vol-02-collected-poems","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/02-collected-poems\/30-two-poems-in-quantitative-hexameters-contd-vol-02-collected-poems","title":{"rendered":"-30_Two Poems in Quantitative Hexameters – CONTD.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n

 <\/td>\n

\n<\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tBOOK III<\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tThe Book of the Assembly<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nBut as the nation beset betwixt doom and a shameful surrender<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWaited mute for a voice that could lead and a heart to encourage,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nUp in the silence deep Laocoon rose up, far-heard,  \u2014
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHeard by the gods in their calm and heard by men in their passion 
\n\t\t\t\u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nCloud-haired, clad in mystic red, flamboyant, sombre,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPriam’s son Laocoon, fate-darkened seer of Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAs when the soul of the Ocean arises rapt in the dawning<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd mid the rocks and the foam uplifting the voice of its musings<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOpens the chant of its turbulent harmonies, so rose the far-borne<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVoice of Laocoon soaring mid columns of Ilion’s glories,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nClaiming the earth and the heavens for the field of its confident rumour.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Trojans, deny your hearts to the easeful flutings of Hades!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLive, O nation!” he thundered forth and Troy’s streets and her pillars<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSent back their fierce response. Restored to her leonine spirits<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIlion rose in her agora filling the heavens with shoutings,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBearing a name to the throne of Zeus in her mortal defiance.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAs when a sullen calm of the heavens discourages living,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNature and man feel the pain of the lightnings repressed in their bosoms,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDangerous and dull is the air, then suddenly strong from the anguish<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tZeus of the thunders starts into glories releasing his storm-voice,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEarth exults in the kiss of the rain and the life-giving laughters,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo from the silence broke forth the thunder of Troya arising;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFiercely she turned from prudence and wisdom and turned back to greatness<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCasting her voice to the heavens from the depths of her fathomless spirit.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRaised by those clamours, triumphant once more on this scene of his greatness,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTool of the gods, but he deemed of his strength as a leader in Nature,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTook for his own a voice that was given and dreamed that he fashioned<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFate that fashions us all, Laocoon stood mid the shouting<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLeaned on the calm of an ancient pillar. In eyes self-consuming<\/span><\/p>\n

\nKindled the flame of the prophet that blinds at once and illumines;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tQuivering thought-besieged lips and shaken locks of the lion,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLifted his gaze the storm-led enthusiast. Then as the shouting<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTired of itself at last disappeared in the bosom of silence,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 370<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nA page of Illion<\/i><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n
\n<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n

\nOnce more he started erect and his voice o’er the hearts of his hearers<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSwept like Ocean’s impatient cry when it calls from its surges,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOcean loud with a thought sublime in its measureless marching,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEach man felt his heart like foam in the rushing of waters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Ilion is vanquished then! she abases her grandiose spirit<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMortal found in the end to the gods and the Greeks and Antenor,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd when a barbarous chieftain’s menace and insolent mercy<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBring here their pride to insult the columned spirit of Ilus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTrojans have sat and feared! For a man has arisen and spoken,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOne whom the gods in their anger have hired. Since the Argive prevailed not,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nArmed with his strength and his numbers, in Troya they sought for her slayer,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGathered their wiles in a voice and they chose a man famous and honoured,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSummoned Ate to aid and corrupted the heart of Antenor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFlute of the breath of the Hell-witch, always he scatters among you<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDoubt, affliction and weakness chilling the hearts of the fighters,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAlways his voice with its cadenced and subtle possession for evil<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBreaks the constant will and maims the impulse heroic.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTherefore while yet her heroes fight and her arms are unconquered,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTroy in your hearts is defeated! The souls of your Fathers have heard you<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDallying, shamefast, with vileness, lured by the call of dishonour.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSuch is the power Zeus gave to the winged words of a mortal!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFoiled in his will, disowned by the years that stride on for ever,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tYet in the frenzy cold of his greed and his fallen ambition<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDoom from heaven he calls down on his countrymen, Trojan abuses<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTroy, his country, extolling her enemies, blessing her slayers.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSuch are the gods Antenor has made in his heart’s own image<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThat if one evil man have not way for his greed and his longing<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCities are doomed and kings must be slain and a nation must perish!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut from the mind of the free and the brave I will answer thy bodings,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGold-hungry raven of Troy who croakst from thy nest at her princes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly one doom irreparable treads down the soul of a nation,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOnly one downfall endures; ’tis the ruin of greatness and virtue,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMourning when Freedom departs from the life and the heart of a people,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nInto her room comes creeping the mind of the slave and it poisons<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tManhood and joy and the voice to lying is trained and subjection<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEasy feels to the neck of man who is next to the godheads.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot of the fire am I terrified, not of the sword and its slaying;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 371<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nVileness of men appals me, baseness I fear and its voices.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhat can man suffer direr or worse than enslaved from a victor<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBoons to accept, to take safety and ease from the foe and the stranger,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFallen from the virtue stern that heaven permits to a mortal?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDeath is not keener than this nor the slaughter of friends and our dear ones.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOut and alas! earth’s greatest are earth and they fail in the testing,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nConquered by sorrow and doubt, fate’s hammerers, fires of her furnace.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGod in their souls they renounce and submit to their clay and its promptings.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nElse could the heart of Troy have recoiled from the loom of the shadow<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCast by Achilles’ spear or shrunk at the sound of his car-wheels?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow he has graven an oath austere in his spirit unpliant<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVictor at last to constrain in his stride the walls of Apollo<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBurning Troy ere he sleeps. ‘Tis the vow of a high-crested nature;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShall it break ramparted Troy? Yea, the soul of a man too is mighty<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMore than the stone and the mortar! Troy had a soul once, O Trojans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFirm as her god-built ramparts. When by the spears overtaken,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nStrong Sarpedon fell and Zeus averted his visage,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tXanthus red to the sea ran sobbing with bodies of Trojans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen in the day of the silence of heaven the far-glancing helmet<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCeased from the ways of the fight, and panic slew with Achilles<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHosts who were left unshepherded pale at the fall of their greatest,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGodlike Troy lived on. Do we speak mid a city’s ruins?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLo! she confronts her heavens as when Tros and Laomedon ruled her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAll now is changed, these mutter and sigh to you, all now is ended;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nStrength has renounced you, Fate has finished the thread of her spinning.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHector is dead, he walks in the shadows; Troilus fights not;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nResting his curls on the asphodel he has forgotten his country:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStrong Sarpedon lies in Bellerophon’s city sleeping:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMemnon is slain and the blood of Rhesus has dried on the Troad:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAll of the giant Asius sums in a handful of ashes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGrievous are these things; our hearts still keep all the pain of them treasured,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHard though they grow by use and iron caskets of sorrow.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHear me yet, O fainters in wisdom snared by your pathos,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tKnow this iron world we live in where Hell casts its shadow.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBlood and grief are the ransom of men for the joys of their transience,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFor we are mortals bound in our strength and beset in our labour.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThis is our human destiny; every moment of living<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 372<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nToil and loss have gained in the constant siege of our bodies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMen must sow earth with their hearts and their tears that their country
\nmay prosper;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEarth who bore and devours us that life may be born from our remnants.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen shall the Sacrifice gather its fruits when the war-shout is silent,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNor shall the blood be in vain that our mother has felt on her bosom<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor shall the seed of the mighty fail where Death is the sower.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStill from the loins of the mother eternal are heroes engendered,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nStill Deiphobus shouts in the war-front trampling the Argives,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStrong Aeneas’ far-borne voice is heard from our ramparts,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nParis’ hands are swift and his feet in the chases of Ares.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLo, when deserted we fight by Asia’s soon-wearied peoples,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMen ingrate who enjoyed the protection and loathed the protector,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHeaven has sent us replacing a continent Penthesilea!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLow has the heart of Achaia sunk since it shook at her war-cry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAjax has bit at the dust; it is all he shall have of the Troad;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTall Meriones lies and measures his portion of booty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWho is the fighter in Ilion thrills not rejoicing to hearken<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEven her name on unwarlike lips, much more in the mellay<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShout of the daughter of battles, armipotent Penthesilea?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIf there were none but these only, if hosts came not surging behind them,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tYoung men burning-eyed to outdare all the deeds of their elders,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEach in his beauty a Troilus, each in his valour a Hector,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tYet were the measures poised in the equal balance of Ares.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWho then compels you, O people unconquered, to sink down abjuring<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAll that was Troy? For O, if she yield, let her use not ever<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOne of her titles! shame not the shades of Teucer and Ilus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSoil not Tros! Are you awed by the strength of the swift-foot Achilles?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIs it a sweeter lure in the cadenced voice of Antenor?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOr are you weary of Time and the endless roar of the battle?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWearier still are the Greeks! their eyes look out o’er the waters<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNor with the flight of their spears is the wing of their hopes towards Troya.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDull are their hearts; they sink from the war-cry and turn from the spear-stroke<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSullenly dragging backwards, desiring the paths of the Ocean,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDreaming of hearths that are far and the children growing to manhood<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWho are small infant faces still in the thoughts of their fathers.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 373<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nTherefore these call you to yield lest they wake and behold in the dawn-light<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAll Poseidon whitening lean to the west in his waters<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThick with the sails of the Greeks departing beaten to Hellas.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWho is it calls? Antenor the statesman, Antenor the patriot,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThus who loves his country and worships the soil of his fathers!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhich of you loves like him Troya? which of the children of heroes<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYearns for the touch of a yoke on his neck and desires the aggressor?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIf there be any so made by the gods in the nation of Ilus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeaving this city which freemen have founded, freemen have dwelt in,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFar on the beach let him make his couch in the tents of Achilles,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot in this mighty Ilion, not with this lioness fighting,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGuarding the lair of her young and roaring back at her hunters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWe who are souls descended from Ilus and seeds of his making,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOther-hearted shall march from our gates to answer Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhat! shall this ancient Ilion welcome the day of the conquered?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShe who was head of the world, shall she live in the guard of the Hellene<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCherished as slavegirls are, who are taken in war, by their captors?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEurope shall walk in our streets with the pride and the gait of the victor?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGreeks shall enter our homes and prey on our mothers and daughters?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThis Antenor desires and this Ucalegon favours.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTraitors! whether ’tis cowardice drives or the sceptic of virtue,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCold-blooded age, or gold insatiably tempts from its coffers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPleading for safety from foreign hands and the sack and the plunder.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLeave them, my brothers! spare the baffled hypocrites! Failure<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSharpest shall torture their hearts when they know that still you are Trojans.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSilence, O reason of man! for a voice from the gods has been uttered!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDardanans, hearken the sound divine that comes to you mounting<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOut of the solemn ravines from the mystic seat on the tripod!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPhoebus, the master of Truth, has promised the earth to our peoples.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChildren of Zeus, rejoice! for the Olympian brows have nodded<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRegal over the world. In earth’s rhythm of shadow and sunlight<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStorm is the dance of the locks of the God assenting to greatness,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nZeus who with secret compulsion orders the ways of our nature;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVeiled in events he lives and working disguised in the mortal<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBuilds our strength by pain, and an empire is born out of ruins.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen if the tempest be loud and the thunderbolt leaping incessant<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShatters the roof, if the lintels flame at last and each cornice<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 374<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\nShrieks with the pain of the blast, if the very pillars totter,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tKeep yet your faith in Zeus, hold fast to the word of Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot by a little pain and not by a temperate labour<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTrained is the nation chosen by Zeus for a dateless dominion.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLong must it labour rolled in the foam of the fathomless surges,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOften neighbour with death and ere Ares grow firm to its banners<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFeel on the pride of its Capitol tread of the triumphing victor,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHear the barbarian knock at its gates or the neighbouring foeman<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGlad of the transient smile of his fortune suffer insulting;  \u2014
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThey, the nation eternal, brook their taunts who must perish!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHeaviest toils they must bear; they must wrestle with Fate and her Titans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd when some leader returns from the battle sole of his thousands<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCrushed by the hammers of God, yet never despair of their country.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDread not the ruin, fear not the storm-blast, yield not, O Trojans.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nZeus shall rebuild. Death ends not our days, the fire shall not triumph.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeath? I have faced it. Fire? I have watched it climb in my vision<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOver the timeless domes and over the rooftops of Priam;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut I have looked beyond and have seen the smile of Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAfter her glorious centuries, after her world-wide triumphs,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIf near her ramparts outnumbered she fights, by the nations forsaken,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLonely again on her hill, by her streams, and her meadows and beaches,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnce where she revelled, shake to the tramp of her countless invaders,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTestings are these from the god. For Fate severe like a mother<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTeaches our wills by disaster and strikes down the props that would weaken,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFate and the Thought on high that is wiser than yearnings of mortals.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTroy has arisen before, but from ashes, not shame, not surrender!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSouls that are true to themselves are immortal; the soulless for ever<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLingers helpless in Hades a shade among shades disappointed.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow is the god in my bosom mighty compelling me, Trojans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNow I release what my spirit has kept and it saw in its vision;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor will be silent for gibe of the cynic or sneer of the traitor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTroy shall triumph! Hear, O ye peoples, the word of Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHear it and tremble, O Greece, in thy youth and the dawn of thy future;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRather forget while thou canst, but the gods in their hour shall remind thee.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTremble, O nations of Asia, false to the greatness within you.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTroy shall surge back on your realms with the sword and the yoke of the
\nvictor.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 375<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\nTroy shall triumph! Though nations conspire and gods lead her foemen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFate that is born of the spirit is greater than they and will shield her.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFoemen shall help her with war; her defeats shall be victory’s moulders.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWalls that restrain shall be rent; she shall rise out of sessions unsettled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOceans shall be her walls at the end and the desert her limit;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIndus shall send to her envoys; her eyes shall look northward from Thule.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShe shall enring all the coasts with her strength like the kingly Poseidon,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShe shall o’ervault all the lands with her rule like the limitless azure.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCeasing from speech Laocoon, girt with the shouts of a nation,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLapsed on his seat like one seized and abandoned and weakened; nor ended<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOnly in iron applause, but throughout with a stormy approval<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAres broke from the hearts of his people in ominous thunder.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSavage and dire was the sound like a wild beast’s tracked out and hunted,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWounded, yet trusting to tear out the entrails live of its hunters,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSavage and cruel and threatening doom to the foe and opponent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tYet when the shouting sank at last, Ucalegon rose up<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTrembling with age and with wrath and in accents hurried and piping<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFaltered a senile fierceness forth on the maddened assembly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Ah, it is even so far that you dare, O you children of Priam,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFavourites vile of a people sent mad by the gods, and thou risest,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDark Laocoon, prating of heroes and spurning as cowards,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSmiting for traitors the aged and wise who were grey when they spawned
\nthee!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tImp of destruction, mane of mischief! Ah, spur us with courage,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou who hast never prevailed against even the feeblest Achaian.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRather twice hast thou raced in the rout to the ramparts for shelter,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeading the panic, and shrieked as thou ranst to the foemen for mercy<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWho were a mile behind thee, O matchless and wonderful racer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSafely counsel to others the pride and the firmness of heroes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThou wilt not die in the battle! For even swiftest Achilles<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCould not o’ertake thee, I ween, nor wind-footed Penthesilea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMask of a prophet, heart of a coward, tongue of a trickster,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTimeless Ilion thou alone ruinest, helped by the Furies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tI, Ucalegon, first will rend off the mask from thee, traitor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor I believe thee suborned by the cynic wiles of Odysseus<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd thou conspirest to sack this Troy with the greed of the Cretan.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHasting unstayed he pursued like a brook that scolds amid pebbles,<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nVoicing angers shrill; for the people astonished were silent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLong he pursued not; a shouting broke from that stupor of fury,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMen sprang pale to their feet and hurled out menaces lethal;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAll that assembly swayed like a forest swept by the stormwind.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nObstinate, straining his age-dimmed eyes Ucalegon, trembling<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWorse yet with anger, clamoured feebly back at the people,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhelmed in their roar. Unheard was his voice like a swimmer in surges<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLost, yet he spoke. But the anger grew in the throats of the people<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLion-voiced, hurting the heart with sound and daunting the nature,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTill from some stalwart hand a javelin whistling and vibrant<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMissing the silvered head of the senator rang disappointed<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOut on the distant wall of a house by the side of the market.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot even then would the old man hush or yield to the tempest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWagging his hoary beard and shifting his aged eyeballs,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTossing his hands he stood; but Antenor seized him and Aetor,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDragged him down on his seat though he strove, and chid him and silenced,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Cease, O friend, for the gods have won. It were easier piping<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHigh with thy aged treble to alter the rage of the Ocean<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThan to o’erbear this people stirred by Laocoon. Leave now<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEffort unhelpful, wrap thy days in a mantle of silence;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGive to the gods their will and dry-eyed wait for the ending.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo now the old men ceased from their strife with the gods and with Troya;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCowed by the storm of the people’s wrath they desisted from hoping.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut though the roar long swelled, like the sea when the winds have subsided,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOne man yet rose up unafraid and beckoned for silence,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot of the aged, but ripe in his look and ruddy of visage,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nStalwart and bluff and short-limbed, Halamus son of Antenor.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tForward he stood from the press and the people fell silent and listened,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor he was ever first in the mellay and loved by the fighters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHe with a smile began: “Come, friends, debate is soon ended<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIf there is right but of lungs and you argue with javelins. Wisdom<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRather pray for her aid in this dangerous hour of your fortunes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot to exalt Laocoon, too much praising his swiftness,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTrojans, I rise; for some are born brave with the spear in the war-car,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOthers bold with the tongue, nor equal gifts unto all men<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tZeus has decreed who guides his world in a round that is devious<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCarried this way and that like a ship that is tossed on the waters.<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

\nWhy should we rail then at one who is lame by the force of Cronion?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot by his will is he lame; he would race, if he could, with the swiftest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYet is the halt man no runner, nor, friends, must you rise up and slay me,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIf I should say of this priest, he is neither Sarpedon nor Hector.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen, if my father whom once you honoured, ancient Antenor,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHugs to him Argive gold which I see not, his son in his mansion,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMe too accusest thou, prophet Laocoon? Friends, you have watched me<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSometimes fight. Did you see with my house’s allies how I gambolled,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChanged, when with sportive spear I was tickling the ribs of my Argives,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNudges of friendly counsel inviting to entry in Troya?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMen, these are visions of lackbrains; men, these are myths of the market.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLet us have done with them, brothers and friends; hate only the Hellene.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nProphet, I bow to the oracles. Wise are the gods in their silence,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWise when they speak; but their speech is other than ours and their wisdom<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHard for a mortal mind to hold and not madden or wander;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut for myself I see only the truth as a soldier who battles<\/span><\/p>\n

\nJudging the strength of his foes and the chances of iron encounter.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFew are our armies, many the Greeks, and we waste in the combat<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBound to our numbers,  \u2014  they by the ocean hemmed from their kinsmen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWe by our fortunes, waves of the gods that are harder to master,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThey like a rock that is chipped, but we like a mist that disperses.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen if Achilles, bound by an oath, bring peace to us, healing,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBring to us respite, help, though bought at a price, yet full-measured,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStrengths of the North at our side and safety assured from the Achaian,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor he is true though a Greek, will you shun this mighty advantage?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPeace at least we shall have, though gold we lose and much glory;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPeace we will use for our strength to breathe in, our wounds to recover,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTeaching Time to prepare for happier wars in the future.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPause ere you fling from you life; you are mortals, not gods in your glory.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot for submission to new ally or to ancient foeman<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPeace these desire; for who would exchange wide death for subjection?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWho would submit to a yoke? Or who shall rule Trojans in Troya?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSwords are there still at our sides, there are warriors’ hearts in our bosoms.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPeace your senators welcome, not servitude, breathing they ask for.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut if for war you pronounce, if a noble death you have chosen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThat I approve. What fitter end for this warlike nation,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nKnowing that empires at last must sink and perish all cities,<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nPage \u2013 378<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

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\nThan to preserve to the end posterity’s praise and its greatness<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCeasing in clangour of arms and a city’s flames for our death-pyre?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChoose then with open eyes what the dread gods offer to Troya.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHope not now Hector is dead and Sarpedon, Asia inconstant,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWe but a handful, Troy can prevail over Greece and Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPlay not with dreams in this hour, but sternly, like men and not children,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChoose with a noble and serious greatness fates fit for Troya.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStark we will fight till buried we fall under Ilion’s ruins,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr, unappeased, we will curb our strength for the hope of the future.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot without praise of his friends and assent of the thoughtfuller Trojans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHalamus spoke and ceased. But now in the Ilian forum<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBright, of the sungod a ray, and even before he had spoken<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSending the joy of his brilliance into the hearts of his hearers,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tParis arose. Not applauded his rising, but each man towards him<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEagerly turned as if feeling that all before which was spoken<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWere but a prelude and this was the note he has waited for always.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSweet was his voice like a harp’s, when it chants of war, and its cadence<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSoftened with touches of music thoughts that were hard to be suffered,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSweet like a string that is lightly struck, but it penetrates wholly.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Calm with the greatness you hold from your sires by the right of
\nyour nature<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tI too would have you decide before Heaven in the strength of your spirits,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot to the past and its memories moored like the thoughts of Antenor<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHating the vivid march of the present, nor towards the future<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPanting through dreams like my brother Laocoon vexed by Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDead is the past; the void has possessed it; its drama is ended,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFinished its music. The future is dim and remote from our knowledge;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSilent it lies on the knees of the gods in their luminous stillness.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut to our gaze God’s light is a darkness, His plan is a chaos.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWho shall foretell the event of a battle, the fall of a footstep?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOracles, visions and prophecies voice but the dreams of the mortal,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd ’tis our spirit within is the Pythoness tortured in Delphi.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHeavenly voices to us are a silence, those colours a whiteness.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNeither the thought of the statesman prevails nor the dream of the prophet,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhether one cry, Thus devise and thy heart shall be given its wanting,’<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVainly the other, The heavens have spoken; hear then their message.’<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWho can point out the way of the gods and the path of their travel,<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

\nWho shall impose on them bounds and an orbit? The winds have their
\n\t\t\ttreading,  \u2014 <\/span><\/p>\n

\nThey can be followed and seized, not the gods when they move towards their purpose.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThey are not bound by our deeds and our thinkings. Sin exalted<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSeizes secure on the thrones of the world for her glorious portion,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDown to the bottomless pit the good man is thrust in his virtue.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLeave to the gods their godhead and, mortal, turn to thy labour;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTake what thou canst from the hour that is thine and be fearless in spirit;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThis is the greatness of man and the joy of his stay in the sunlight.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow whether over the waste of Poseidon the ships of the Argives<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEmpty and sad shall return or sacred Ilion perish,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPriam be slain and for ever cease this imperial nation,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThese things the gods are strong to conceal from the hopings of mortals.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNeither Antenor knows nor Laocoon. Only of one thing<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMan can be sure, the will in his heart and his strength in his purpose:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThis too is Fate and this too the gods, nor the meanest in Heaven.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tParis keeps what he seized from Time and from Fate while unconquered<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLife speeds warm through his veins and his heart is assured of the sunlight.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAfter ’tis cold, none heeds, none hinders. Not for the dead man<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEarth and her wars and her cares, her joys and her gracious concessions,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhether for ever he sleeps in the chambers of Nature unmindful<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr into wideness wakes like a dreamer called from his visions.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIlion in flames I choose, not fallen from the heights of her spirit.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGreat and free has she lived since they raised her twixt billow and mountain,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGreat let her end; let her offer her freedom to fire, not the Hellene.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShe was not founded by mortals; gods erected her ramparts,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLifted her piles to the sky, a seat not for slaves but the mighty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAll men marvelled at Troy; by her deeds and her spirit they knew her<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEven from afar, as the lion is known by his roar and his preying.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSole she lived royal and fell, erect in her leonine nature.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo, O her children, still let her live unquelled in her purpose<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEither to stand with your feet on the world oppressing the nations<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOr in your ashes to lie and your name be forgotten for ever.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nJustly your voices approve me, armipotent children of Ilus;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStraight from Zeus is our race and the Thunderer lives in our nature.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLong I have suffered this taunt that Paris was Ilion’s ruin<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

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\nBorn on a night of the gods and of Ate, clothed in a body.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tScornful I strode on my path secure of the light in my bosom,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTurned from the muttering voices of envy, their hates who are fallen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVoices of hate that cling round the wheels of the triumphing victor;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow if I speak, ’tis the strength in me answers, not to belittle,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThat excusing which most I rejoice in and glory for ever,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTyndaris’ rape whom I seized by the will of divine Aphrodite.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMortal this error that Greece would have slumbered apart in her mountains,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSunk, by the trumpets of Fate unaroused and the morning within her,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly were Paris unborn and the world had not gazed upon Helen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFools, who say that a spark was the cause of this giant destruction!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWar would have stridden on Troy though Helen were still in her Sparta<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTending an Argive loom, not the glorious prize of the Trojans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGreece would have banded her nations though Paris had drunk not Eurotas.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCoast against coast I set not, nor Ilion opposite Argos.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPhryx accuse who upreared Troy’s domes by the azure Aegean,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCurse Poseidon who fringed with Greece the blue of his waters:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen was this war first decreed and then Agamemnon was fashioned;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nArmed he strode forth in the secret Thought that is womb of the future.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFate and Necessity guided those vessels, captained their armies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen they stood mailed at her gates, when they cried in the might of their union,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTroy, renounce thy alliances, draw back humbly from Hellas,’<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShould she have hearkened persuading her strength to a shameful
\ncompliance,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIlion queen of the world whose voice was the breath of the storm-gods?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShould she have drawn back her foot as it strode towards the hills of the Latins?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThrace left bare to her foes, recoiled from Illyrian conquests?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIf all this without battle were possible, people of Priam,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBlame then Paris, say then that Helen was cause of the struggle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut I have sullied the hearth, I have trampled the gift and the guest-rite,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHeaven I have armed with my sin and unsealed the gaze of the Furies,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo was Troy doomed who righteous had triumphed, locked with the Argive.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFools or hypocrites! Meanest falsehood is this among mortals,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVeils of purity weaving, names misplacing ideal<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen our desires we disguise and paint the lusts of our nature.
\n\t\t\t<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nPage \u2013 381<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\tMen, ye are men in your pride and your strength, be not sophists and
\ntonguesters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLie not! prate not that nations live by righteousness, justice<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShields them, gods out of heaven look down wroth on the crimes of the mighty!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nKnown have men what thing has screened itself mouthing these semblances. Crouching<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDire like a beast in the green of the thickets, selfishness silent<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCrunches the bones of its prey while the priest and the statesman are glozing.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo are the nations soothed and deceived by the clerics of virtue,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTaught to reconcile fear of the gods with their lusts and their passions;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo with a lie on their lips they march to the rapine and slaughter.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTruly the vanquished were guilty! Else would their cities have perished,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShrieked their ravished virgins, their peasants been hewn in the vineyards?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTruly the victors were tools of the gods and their glorious servants!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nElse would the war-cars have ground triumphant their bones whom they hated?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nServants of God are they verily, even as the ape and the tiger.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDoes not the wild-beast too triumph enjoying the flesh of his captives?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTell us then what was the sin of the antelope, wherefore they doomed her,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWroth at her many crimes? Come, justify God to his creatures!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot to her sins was she offered, not to the Furies or Justice,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut to the strength of the lion the high gods offered a victim,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nForce that is God in the lion’s breast with the forest for altar.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhat, in the cities stormed and sacked by Achilles in Troas<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWas there no just man slain? Was Brises then a transgressor?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHearts that were pierced in his walls, were they sinners tracked by the Furies?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNo, they were pious and just and their altars burned for Apollo,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tReverent flamed up to Pallas who slew them aiding the Argives.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr if the crime of Paris they shared and his doom has embraced them,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhom had the island cities offended, stormed by the Locrian,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWave-kissed homes of peace but given to the sack and the spoiler?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWas then King Atreus just and the house accursed of Pelops,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTantalus’ race, whose deeds men shuddering hear and are silent?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLook! they endure, their pillars are firm, they are regnant and triumph.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOr are Thyestean banquets sweet to the gods in their savour?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOnly a woman’s heart is pursued in their wrath by the Furies!<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n\t\t\t <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  BOOK III   The Book of the Assembly   But as the nation beset betwixt doom and a shameful surrender Waited mute for a…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[57],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2979","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-02-collected-poems","wpcat-57-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2979","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2979"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2979\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2979"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2979"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2979"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}