{"id":3006,"date":"2013-07-13T01:45:18","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:18","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=3006"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:45:18","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:18","slug":"35-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\/35-two-poems-in-quantitative-hexameters-contd-vol-02-collected-poems","title":{"rendered":"-35_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 VII<\/b><\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

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

 <\/p>\n

\nSo to the voice of their best they were bowed and obeyed undebating;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMen whose hearts were burning yet with implacable passion<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFelt Odysseus’ strength and rose up clay to his counsels.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tKing Agamemnon rose at his word, the wide-ruling monarch,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRose at his word the Cretan and Locrian, Thebes and Epirus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNestor rose, the time-tired hoary chief of the Pylians.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRound Agamemnon the Atreid Europe surged in her chieftains<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tForth from their tent on the shores of the Troad, splendid in armour,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nInto the golden blaze of the sun and the race of the sea-winds.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFierce and clear like a flame to the death-gods bright on its altar<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShone in their eyes the lust of blood and of earth and of pillage;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFor in their hearts those fires replaced the passions of discord<\/span><\/p>\n

\nForging a brittle peace by a common hatred and yearning.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tJoyous they were of mood; for their hopes were already in Troya<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSating with massacre, plunder and rape and the groans of their foemen<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeath and Hell in our mortal bosoms seated and shrouded;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThere they have altars and seats, in mankind, in this fair-builded temple,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMade for purer gods; but we turn from their luminous temptings;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nVainly the divine whispers seek us; the heights are rejected.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMan to his earth drawn always prefers his nethermost promptings,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMan, devouring, devoured who is slayer and slain through the ages<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSince by the beast he soars held and exceeds not that pedestal’s measure.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThey now followed close on the steps of the mighty Atrides<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGlued like the forest pack to the war-scarred coat of its leader,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGlued as the pack when wolves follow their prey like Doom that can turn not.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPerfect forms and beautiful faces crowded the tent-door,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBrilliant eyes and fierce of souls that remembered the forest,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWild-beasts touched by thought and savages lusting for beauty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDire and fierce and formidable chieftains followed Atrides,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMerciless kings of merciless men and the founders of Europe,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSackers of Troy and sires of the Parthenon, Athens and Caesar.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHere they had come to destroy the ancient perishing cultures;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFor, it is said, from the savage we rose and were born to a wild-beast.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo when the Eye supreme perceives that we rise up too swiftly,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 433<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

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\nDrawn towards height but fullness contemning, called by the azure,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLife when we fail in, poor in our base and forgetting our mother,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBack we are hurled to our roots; we recover our sap from the savage.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo were these sent by Zeus to destroy the old that was grandiose.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSuch were those frames of old as the sons of Heaven might have chosen<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWho in the dawn of eternity wedded the daughters of Nature,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCultures touched by the morning star, vast, bold and poetic,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTitans’ works and joys, but thrust down from their puissance and pleasure<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFainting now fell from the paces of Time or were left by his ages.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo were these born from Zeus to found the new that should flower<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLucid and slender and perfectly little as fit for this mortal<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEver who sinks back fatigued from immortality’s stature;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMan, repelled by the gulfs within him and shrinking from vastness,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tForm of the earth accepts and is glad of the lap of his mother.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSafe through the infinite seas could his soul self-piloted voyage,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChasing the dawns and the wondrous horizons, eternity’s secrets<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDrawn from her luminous gulfs! But he journeys rudderless, helmless,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDriven and led by the breath of God who meets him with tempest,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHurls at him Night. The earth is safer, warmer its sunbeams;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeath and limits are known; so he clings to them hating the summons.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo might one dwell who has come to take joy in a fair-lighted prison;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAmorous grown of its marble walls and its noble adornments,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLost to mightier cares and the spaces boundlessly calling<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLust of the infinite skies he forgets and the kiss of the stormwind.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo might one live who inured to his days of the field and the farm-yard<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShrinks from the grandiose mountain-tops; shut up in lanes and in hedges<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOnly his furrows he leads and only orders his gardens,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly his fleeces weaves and drinks of the yield of his vine-rows:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLost to his ear is the song of the waterfall, wind in the forests.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNow to our earth we are bent and we study the skies for its image.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThat was Greece and its shining, that now is France and its keenness,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThat still is Europe though by the Christ-touch troubled and tortured,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSeized by the East but clasping her chains and resisting our freedom.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen was all founded, on Phrygia’s coasts, round Ilion’s ramparts,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen by the spear of Achilles, then in the Trojan death-cry;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBearers mute of a future world were those armoured Achaians.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo they arrived from Zeus, an army led by the death-god.<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 434<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

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\nSo one can see them still who has sight from the gods in the trance-sleep<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOut from the tent emerging on Phrygia’s coasts in their armour;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThose of the early seed Pelasgian slighter in stature,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDark-haired, hyacinth-curled from the isles of the sea and the southron,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSoft-eyed men with pitiless hearts; bright-haired the Achaians,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHordes of the Arctic Dawn who had fled from the ice and the death-blast;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChildren of conquerors lured to the coasts and the breezes and olives,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNoons of Mediterranean suns and the kiss of the southwind<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMingled their brilliant force with the plastic warmth of the Hamite.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThere they shall rule and their children long till Fate and the Dorian<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBreak down Hellene doors and trample stern through the passes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMixed in a glittering rout on the Ocean beaches one sees them,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPerfect and beautiful figures and fronts, not as now are we mortals<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMarred and crushed by our burden long of thought and of labour;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPerfect were these as our race bright-imaged was first by the Thinker<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSeen who in golden lustres shapes all the glories we tarnish,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRich from the moulds of Gods and unmarred in their splendour and swiftness.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMany and mighty they came over the beaches loud of the Aegean,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRoots of an infant world and the morning stars of this Europe,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGreat Agamemnon’s kingly port and the bright Menelaus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTall Idomeneus, Nestor, Odysseus Atlas-shouldered,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHelmeted Ajax, his chin of the beast and his eyes of the dreamer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOver the sands they dispersed to their armies ranked by the Ocean.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut from the Argive front Acirrous loosed by Tydides<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tParted as hastens a shaft from the string and he sped on intently<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSwift where the beaches were bare or threading the gaps of the nations;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCrossing Thebes and Epirus he passed through the Lemnian archers,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAncient Gnossus’ hosts and Meriones’ leaderless legions.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHeedless of cry and of laughter calling over the sea-sands<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSwiftly he laboured, wind in his hair and the sea to him crying,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStraight he ran to the Myrmidon hosts and the tents of Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThere he beheld at his tent-door the Phthian gleaming in armour,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGlittering-helmed with the sun that climbed now the cusp of Cronion,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNobly tall, excelling humanity, planned like Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tProud at his side like a pillar upreared of snow or of marble,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGolden-haired, hard and white was the boy Neoptolemus, fire-eyed.<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

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\nNew were his feet to the Trojan sands from the ships and from Scyros:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLed to this latest of all his father’s fights in the Troad<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHe for his earliest battle waited, the son of Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo in her mood had Fate brought them together, the son and the father,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEven as our souls travelling different paths have met in the ages<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEach for its work and they cling for an hour to the names of affection,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen Time’s long waves bear them apart for new forms we shall know not,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo these two long severed had met in the shadow of parting.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOften he smote his hand on the thigh-piece for sound of the armour,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBent his ear to the plains or restless moved like a war-horse<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCurbed by his master’s will, when he stands new-saddled for battle<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHearing the voice of the trumpets afar and pawing the meadows.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOver the sands Acirrous came to them running and toiling,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tKnown from far off, for he ran unhelmeted. High on the hero<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSunlike smiled the golden Achilles and into the tent-space<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSeized by the hand and brought him and seated. “War-shaft of Troezen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhence was thy speed, Acirrous? Com’st thou, O friend, to my tent-side<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSpurred by thy eager will or the trusted stern Diomedes?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr from the Greeks like the voice still loved from a heart that is hollow?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhat say the banded princes of Greece to the single Achilles?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBringest thou flattery pale or an empty and futureless menace?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut to the strength of Pelides the hero Acirrous answered:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Response none make the Greeks to thy high-voiced message and challenge;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly their shout at thy side will reply when thou leapst into Troya.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo have their chieftains willed and the wisdom calm of Odysseus.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut with a haughty scorn made answer the high-crested Hellene:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Wise is Odysseus, wise are the hearts of Achaia’s chieftains.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tIlion’s chiefs are enough for their strength and life is too brittle<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHurrying Fate to advance on the spear of the Phthian Achilles.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Not from the Greeks have I sped to thy tents, their friendship or quarrel<\/span><\/p>\n

\nUrged not my feet; but Tiryns’ chieftain strong Diomedes<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSent me claiming a word long old that first by his war-car<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYoung Neoptolemus come from island Scyros should enter<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFar-crashing into the fight that has lacked this shoot of Achilles,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPressing in front with his father’s strength in the playground of Ares,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShouting his father’s cry as he clashed to his earliest battle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo let Achilles’ son twin-carred fight close by Tydides,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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\n

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\nSeal of the ancient friendship new-sworn twixt your sires in their boyhood<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen when they learned the spear to guide and strove in the wrestle.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo he spoke recalling other times and regretted<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd to the Argive’s word consented the strength of Pelides.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHe on the shoulder white of his son with a gesture of parting<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLaid his fateful hand and spoke from his prescient spirit:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Pyrrhus, go. No mightier guide couldst thou hope into battle<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOpening the foemen’s ranks than the hero stern Diomedes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNoble that rugged heart, thy father’s friend and his father’s.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tJourney through all wide Greece, seek her prytanies, schools and palaestras,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTraverse Ocean’s rocks and the cities that dream on his margin,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPhocian dales, Aetolia’s cliffs and Arcady’s pastures,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNever a second man wilt thou find, but alone Diomedes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPyrrhus, follow his counsels always losing thy father,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIf in this battle I fall and Fate has denied to me Troya.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPyrrhus, be like thy father in virtue, thou canst not excel him;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNoble be in peace, invincible, brave in the battle,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStern and calm to thy foe, to the suppliant merciful. Mortal<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFavour and wrath as thou walkst heed never, son of Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAlways thy will and the right impose on thy friend and thy foeman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCount not life nor death, defeat nor triumph, Pyrrhus.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly thy soul regard and the gods in thy joy or thy labour.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPyrrhus heard and erect with a stride that was rigid and stately<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tForth with Acirrous went from his sire to the joy of the battle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLittle he heeded the word of death that the god in our bosom<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSpoke from the lips of Achilles, but deemed at sunset returning,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSlaying Halamus, Paris or dangerous mighty Aeneas,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tProudly to lay at his father’s feet the spoils of the foeman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut in his lair alone the godlike doomed Pelides<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTurned to the door of his tent and was striding forth to the battle,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhen from her inner chamber Briseis parting the curtain,  \u2014
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLong had she stood there spying and waiting her lonely occasion, 
\n\t\t\t\u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nCame and caught and held his hand like a creeper detaining<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVainly a moment the deathward stride of the kings of the forest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Tarry awhile, Achilles; not yet have the war-horns clamoured,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNor have the scouts streamed yet from Xanthus fierily running.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLose a moment for her who has only thee under heaven.<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

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\nNay, had war sounded, thou yet wouldst squander that moment, Achilles,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHearkening a woman’s fears and the voice of a dream in the midnight.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nArt thou not gentle even as terrible, lion of Hellas?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOthers have whispered the deeds of thy wrath; we have heard, but not seen it;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMarvelling much at their pallor and awe we have listened and wondered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNever with thrall or slavegirl or captive saw I thee angered,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHero, nor any humble heart ever trembled to near thee.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPardoning rather our many faults and our failures in service<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLightly thou layedst thy yoke on us kind as the clasp of a lover<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSparing the weak as thou breakest the mighty, O godlike Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOnly thy equals have felt all the dread of the death-god within thee;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWe have presumed and have played with the strength at which nations
\nhave trembled.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLo, thou hast leaned thy mane to the clutch of the boys and the maidens.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut to Briseis white-armed made answer smiling Achilles:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Something sorely thou needst, for thou flatterest long, O Briseis.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTell me, O woman, thy fear or thy dream that my touch may dispel it,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWhite-armed net of bliss slipped down from the gold Aphrodite.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd to Achilles answered the captive white Briseis:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Long have they vexed my soul in the tents of the Greeks, O Achilles,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTelling of Thetis thy mother who bore thee in caves of the Ocean<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tClasped by a mortal and of her fear from the threats of the Ancients,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWeavers of doom who play with our hopes and smile at our passions<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPainting Time with the red of our hearts on the web they have woven,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHow on the Ocean’s bosom she hid thee in vine-tangled Scyros<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tClothed like a girl among girls with the daughters of King
\n\t\t\tLycomedes,  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nArt thou not fairer than woman’s beauty, yet great as Apollo?  \u2014
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFearing Paris’ shafts and the anger of Delian Phoebus.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNow in the night has a vision three times besieged me from heaven.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOver the sea in my dream an argent bow was extended;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNearing I saw a terror august over moonlit waters,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCloud and a fear and a face that was young and lovely and hostile.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThen three times I heard arise in the grandiose silence,  \u2014
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStill was the sky and still was the land and still were the waters, 
\n\t\t\t\u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nEchoing a mighty voice, Take back, O King, what thou gavest;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStrength, take thy strong man, sea, take thy wave, till the warfare eternal<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNeed him again to thunder through Asia’s plains to the Ganges.’<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nThat fell silent, but nearer the beautiful Terror approached me,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tClang I heard of the argent bow and I gazed on Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShrilly I cried; it was thee that the shaft of the heavens had yearned for,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThee that it sought like a wild thing in anger straight at its quarry,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nQuivering into thy heel. I awoke and found myself trembling,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHeld thee safe in my arms, yet hardly believed that thou livest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLo, in the night came this dream; on the morn thou arisest for battle.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut to Briseis white-armed made answer the golden Achilles:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“This was a dream indeed, O princess, daughter of Brises!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWill it restrain Achilles from fight, the lion from preying?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCome, thou hast heard of my prowess and knowest what man is Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeemst thou so near my end? or does Polyxena vex thee,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nJealousy shaping thy dreams to frighten me back from her capture?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPassionate, vexed Briseis, smiting his arm with her fingers,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYet with a smile half-pleased made answer to mighty Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Thinkst thou I fear thee at all? I am brave and will chide thee and threaten.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSee that thou recklessly throw not, Achilles, thy life into battle<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHurting this body, my world, nor venture sole midst thy foemen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeaving thy shielders behind as oft thou art wont in thy war-rage<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLured by thy tempting gods who seek their advantage to slay thee,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFighting divinely, careless of all but thy spear and thy foeman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCover thy limbs with thy shield, speed slowly restraining thy coursers.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDost thou not know all the terrible void and cold desolation<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnce again my life must become if I lose thee, Achilles?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTwice then thus wilt thou smite me, O hero, a desolate woman?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tI will not stay behind on an earth that is empty and kingless.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nInto the grave I will leap, through the fire I will burn, I will follow<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDown into Hades’ depths or wherever thy footsteps go clanging,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHunting thee always,  \u2014  didst thou not seize me here for thy
\npleasure?  \u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStronger there by my love as thou than I here, O Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThou shalt not dally alone with Polyxena safe in the shadows.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut to Briseis answered the hero, mighty Pelides,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHolding her delicate hands like gathered flowers in his bosom,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPressing her passionate mouth like a rose that trembles with beauty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“There then follow me even as I would have drawn thee, O woman,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVoice that chimes with my soul and hands that are eager for service,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBeautiful spoil beloved of my foemen, perfect Briseis<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
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\n

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

\nBut for the dreams that come to us mortals sleeping or waking,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShadows are these from our souls and who shall discern what they figure?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFears from the heart speak voiced like Zeus, take shape as Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut were they truer than Delphi’s cavern voice or Dodona’s<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMoan that seems wind in his oaks immemorable, how should they alter<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFate that the stern gods have planned from the first when the earth was
\nunfashioned,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShapeless the gyre of the sun? For dream or for oracle adverse<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhy should man swerve from the path of his feet? The gods have invented<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly one way for a man through the world, O my slavegirl Briseis,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nValiant to be and noble and truthful and just to the humble,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnly one way for a woman, to love and serve and be faithful.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThis observe, thy task in thy destiny noble or fallen;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTime and result are the gods’; with these things be not thou troubled.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo he spoke and kissed her lips and released her and parted.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOut from the tent he strode and into his chariot leaping<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSeized the reins and shouted his cry and drove with a far-borne<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSound of wheels mid the clamour of hooves and the neigh of the war-steeds<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSwift through the line of the tents and forth from the heart of the leaguer.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOver the causeway Troyward thundered the wheels of Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAfter him crashing loud with a fierce and resonant rumour<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChieftains impetuous prone to the mellay and swift at the war-cry<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCame, who long held from the lust of the spear and the joy of the war-din<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRushed over earth like hawks released through the air; a shouting<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLimitless rolled behind, for nations followed each war-cry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLords renowned of the northern hills and the plains and the coast-lands,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMany a Dorian, many a Phthian, many a Hellene,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNames now lost to the ear though then reputed immortal!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNight has swallowed them, Zeus has devoured the light of his children;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDrawn are they back to his bosom vast whence they came in their fierceness<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThinking to conquer the earth and dominate Time and his ages.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNor on their left less thick came numerous even as the sea-sands<\/span><\/p>\n

\nForth from the line of the leaguer that skirted the far-sounding waters,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRanked behind Tydeus’ son and the Spartan, bright Menelaus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIthaca’s chief and Epeus, Idomeneus lord of the Cretans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAcamas, Nestor, Neleus’ son, and the brave Ephialtus,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tProthous, Meges, Leitus the bold and the king
\n\t\t\tProtho\u00ebnor,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 440<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

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

\nWise Alceste’s son and the Lemnian, stern Philoctetes,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThese and unnumbered warlike captains marching the Argives.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLast in his spacious car drove shaping the tread of his armies,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEven as a shepherd who follows his flock to the green of the pastures,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAtreus’ far-famed son, the monarch great Agamemnon.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThey on the plain moved out and gazing far over the pastures<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSaw behind Xanthus rolling with dust like a cloud full of thunder,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOminous, steadily nearing, shouting their war-cry the Trojans.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 441<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n

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

  BOOK VII   The Book of the Woman   So to the voice of their best they were bowed and obeyed undebating; Men whose…<\/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-3006","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\/3006","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=3006"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3006\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3006"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3006"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3006"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}