{"id":3020,"date":"2013-07-13T01:45:25","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:25","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=3020"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:45:25","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:45:25","slug":"28-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\/28-two-poems-in-quantitative-hexameters-contd-vol-02-collected-poems","title":{"rendered":"-28_Two Poems in Quantitative Hexameters – CONTD.html"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n

 <\/td>\n

\n
\n\t\t\t<\/p>\n

\n
\n
\nIlion<\/i> <\/b>
\n\t\t\t<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBk-I<\/b><\/span><\/i><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nWhat say the vaunters of Greece to the virgin Penthesilea?”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHigh was the Argive’s answer confronting the mighty in Troya.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Princes of Pergama, whelps of the lion who roar for the mellay,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSuffer my speech! It shall ring like a spear on the hearts of the mighty.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBlame not the herald; his voice is an impulse, an echo, a channel<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNow for the timbrels of peace and now for the drums of the battle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd I have come from no cautious strength, from no half-hearted speaker,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut from the Phthian. All know him! Proud is his soul as his fortunes,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSwift as his sword and his spear are the speech and the wrath from his bosom.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tI am his envoy, herald am I of the conquering Argives.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHas not one heard in the night when the breezes whisper and shudder,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDire, the voice of a lion unsatisfied, gnawed by his hunger,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSeeking his prey from the gods? For he prowls through the glens of the mountains,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nErrs a dangerous gleam in the woodlands, fatal and silent.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo for a while he endures, for a while he seeks and he suffers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPatient yet in his terrible grace as assured of his banquet;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut he has lacked too long and he lifts his head and to heaven<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRoars in his wonder, incensed, impatiently. Startled the valleys<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShrink from the dreadful alarum, the cattle gallop to shelter.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nArming the herdsmen cry to each other for comfort and courage.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo Talthybius spoke, as a harper voicing his prelude<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTouches his strings to a varied music, seeks for a concord;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLong his strain he prepares. But one broke in on the speaker, 
\n\t\t\t\u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nSweet was his voice like a harp’s though heard in the front of the onset, 
\n\u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOne of the sons of Fate by the people loved whom he ruined,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeader in counsel and battle, the Priamid, he in his beauty<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCarelessly walking who scattered the seeds of Titanic disaster.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Surely thou dreamedst at night and awaking thy dreams have not left thee!<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHast thou not woven thy words to intimidate children in Argos<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSitting alarmed in the shadows who listen pale to their nurses?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGreek, thou art standing in Ilion now and thou facest her princes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nUse not thy words but thy king’s. If friendship their honey-breathed burden,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFriendship we clasp from Achilles, but challenge outpace with our challenge<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMeeting the foe ere he moves in his will to the clash of encounter.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSuch is the way of the Trojans since Phryx by the Hellespont halting<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSeated Troy on her hill with the Ocean for comrade and sister.”<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 346<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

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

\nShaking in wrath his filleted head Talthybius answered:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Princes, ye speak their words who drive you! Thus said Achilles:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRise, Talthybius, meet in her spaces the car of the morning;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChallenge her coursers divine as they bound through the plains of the Troad.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHasten, let not the day wear gold ere thou stand in her ramparts.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHerald charged with my will to a haughty and obstinate nation,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpeak in the palace of Priam the word of the Phthian Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFreely and not as his vassal who leads, Agamemnon, the Argive,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut as a ruler in Hellas I send thee, king of my nations.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLong I have walked apart from the mellay of gods in the Troad,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLong has my listless spear leaned back on the peace of my tent-side,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeaf to the talk of the trumpets, the whine of the chariots speeding;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSole with my heart I have lived, unheeding the Hellene murmur,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChid when it roared for the hunt the lion pack of the war-god,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDay after day I walked at dawn and in blush of the sunset,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFar by the call of the seas and alone with the gods and my dreaming,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeaned to the unsatisfied chant of my heart and the rhythms of ocean,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSung to by hopes that were sweet-lipped and vain. For Polyxena’s brothers<\/span><\/p>\n

\nStill are the brood of the Titan Laomedon slain in his greatness,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEngines of God unable to bear all the might that they harbour.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAwe they have chid from their hearts, nor our common humanity binds them,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStay have they none in the gods who approve, giving calmness to mortals:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut like the Titans of old they have hugged to them grandeur and ruin.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSeek then the race self-doomed, the leaders blinded by heaven 
\n\t\t\t\u2014 <\/span> <\/p>\n

\nNot in the agora swept by the winds of debate and the shoutings<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLion-voiced, huge of the people! In Troya’s high-crested mansion<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSpeak out my word to the hero Deiphobus, head of the mellay,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tParis the racer of doom and the stubborn strength of Aeneas.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHerald of Greece, when thy feet shall be pressed on the gold and the marble,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRise in the Ilian megaron, curb not the cry of the challenge.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThus shalt thou say to them striking the ground with the staff of defiance,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFronting the tempests of war, the insensate, the gamblers with downfall.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Princes of Troy, I have sat in your halls, I have slept in your chambers;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot in the battle alone as a warrior glad of his foemen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGlad of the strength that mates with his own, in peace we encountered.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMarvelling I sat in the halls of my enemies, close to the bosoms<\/span><\/p>\n

\nScarred by the dints of my sword and the eyes I had seen through the battle,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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\n

\nAte rejoicing the food of the East at the tables of Priam<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tServed by the delicatest hands in the world, by Hecuba’s daughter,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOr with our souls reconciled in some careless and rapturous midnight<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDrank of the sweetness of Phrygian wine, admiring your bodies<\/span><\/p>\n

\nShaped by the gods indeed, and my spirit revolted from hatred,  \u2014
\n<\/span> <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSoftening it yearned in its strings to the beauty and joy of its foemen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYearned from the death that o’ertakes and the flame that cries and desires<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEven at the end to save and even on the verge to deliver<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTroy and her wonderful works and her sons and her deep-bosomed daughters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWarned by the gods who reveal to the heart what the mind cannot hearken<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeaf with its thoughts, I offered you friendship, I offered you bridal,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHellas for comrade, Achilles for brother, the world for enjoyment<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWon by my spear. And one heard my call and one turned to my seeking.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhy is it then that the war-cry sinks not to rest by the Xanthus?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWe are not voices from Argolis, Lacedaemonian tricksters,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSplendid and subtle and false; we are speakers of truth, we are Hellenes,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMen of the northland faithful in friendship and noble in anger,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nStrong like our fathers of old. But you answered my truth with evasion<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHoping to seize what I will not yield and you flattered your people.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLong have I waited for wisdom to dawn on your violent natures.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLonely I paced o’er the sands by the thousand-throated waters<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPraying to Pallas the wise that the doom might turn from your mansions,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBuildings delightful, gracious as rhythms, lyrics in marble,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWorks of the transient gods, and I yearned for the end of the war-din<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHoping that Death might relent to the beautiful sons of the Trojans.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFar from the cry of the spears, from the speed and the laughter of axles,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHeavy upon me like iron the intolerable yoke of inaction<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWeighed like a load on a runner. The war-cry rose by Scamander;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tXanthus was crossed on a bridge of the fallen, not by Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOften I stretched out my hand to the spear, for the Trojan beaches<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tRang with the voice of Deiphobus shouting and slaying the Argives;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOften my heart like an anxious mother for Greece and her children<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLeaped, for the air was full of the leonine roar of Aeneas.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAlways the evening fell or the gods protected the Argives.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen by the moat of the ships, on the hither plain of the Xanthus<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNew was the voice that climbed through the din and sailed on the breezes,<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\nPage \u2013 348<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

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

\nHigh, insistent, clear, and it shouted an unknown war-cry<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThreatening doom to the peoples. A woman had come in to aid you,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRegal and insolent, fair as the morning and fell as the northwind,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFreed from the distaff who grasps at the sword and she spurns at subjection<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBreaking the rule of the gods. She is turbulent, swift in the battle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tClanging her voice of the swan as a summons to death and disaster,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nFleet-footed, happy and pitiless, laughing she runs to the slaughter;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStrong with the gait that allures she leaps from her car to the slaying,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDabbles in blood smooth hands like lilies. Europe astonished<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tReels from her shock to the Ocean. She is the panic and mellay,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWar is her paean, the chariots thunder of Penthesilea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDoom was her coming, it seems, to the men of the West and their legions;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAjax sleeps for ever, Meriones lies on the beaches.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOne by one they are falling before you, the great in Achaia.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEver the wounded are borne like the stream of the ants when they forage<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPast my ships, and they hush their moans as they near and in silence<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGaze at the legions inactive accusing the fame of Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStill have I borne with you, waited a little, looked for a summons,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLonging for bridal torches, not flame on the Ilian housetops,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBlood in the chambers of sweetness, the golden amorous city<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSwallowed by doom. Not broken I turned from the wrestle Titanic,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHopeless, weary of toil in the ebb of my glorious spirit,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut from my stress of compassion for doom of the kindred nations,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut for her sake whom my soul desires, for the daughter of Priam.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnd for Polyxena’s sake I will speak to you yet as your lover<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOnce ere the Fury, abrupt from Erebus, deaf to your crying,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMad with the joy of the massacre, seizes on wealth and on women<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCalling to Fire as it strides and Ilion sinks into ashes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYield; for your doom is impatient. No longer your helpers hasten,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLegions swift to your call; the yoke of your pride and your splendour<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLies not now on the nations of earth as when Fortune desired you,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tStrength was your slave and Troya the lioness hungrily roaring<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThreatened the western world from her ramparts built by Apollo.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGladly released from the thraldom they hated, the insolent shackles<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCurbing their manhood the peoples arise and they pray for your ruin;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPiled are their altars with gifts; their blessings help the Achaians.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMemnon came, but he sleeps, and the faces swart of his nation<\/span><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

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\nPage \u2013 349<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

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\nDarken no more like a cloud over thunder and surge of the onset.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWearily Lycia fights; far fled are the Carian levies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThrace retreats to her plains preferring the whistle of stormwinds<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOr on the banks of the Strymon to wheel in her Orphean measure,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot in the revel of swords and fronting the spears of the Hellenes.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPrinces of Pergama, open your gates to our Peace who would enter,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLife in her gracious clasp and forgetfulness, grave of earth’s passions,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHealer of wounds and the past. In a comity equal, Hellenic,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAsia join with Greece, one world from the frozen rivers<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTrod by the hooves of the Scythian to farthest undulant Ganges.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTyndarid Helen resign, the desirable cause of your danger,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBack to Greece that is empty long of her smile and her movements.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBroider with riches her coming, pomp of her slaves and the waggons<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tEndlessly groaning with gold that arrive with the ransom of nations.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo shall the Fury be pacified, she who exultant from Sparta<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBreathed in the sails of the Trojan ravisher helping his oarsmen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo shall the gods be appeased and the thoughts of their wrath shall be cancelled,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nJustice contented trace back her steps and for brands of the burning<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTorches delightful shall break into Troy with the swords of the bridal.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nI like a bridegroom will seize on your city and clasp and defend her<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSafe from the envy of Argos, from Lacedaemonian hatred,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSafe from the hunger of Crete and the Locrian’s violent rapine.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut if you turn from my voice and you hearken only to Ares<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCrying for battle within you deluded by Hera and Pallas,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSwiftly the fierce death’s surges shall close over Troy and her ramparts<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBuilt by the gods shall be stubble and earth to the tread of the Hellene.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFor to my tents I return not, I swear it by Zeus and Apollo,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMaster of Truth who sits within Delphi fathomless brooding<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSole in the caverns of Nature and hearkens her underground murmur,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGiving my oath to his keeping mute and stern who forgets not,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot from the panting of Ares’ toil to repose, from the wrestle<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLocked of hope and death in the ruthless clasp of the mellay<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLeaving again the Trojan ramparts unmounted, leaving<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGreece unavenged, the Aegean a lake and Europe a province.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChoosing from Hellas exile, from Peleus and Deidamia,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChoosing the field for my chamber of sleep and the battle for hearthside<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

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

\nI shall go warring on till Asia enslaved to my footsteps<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFeels the tread of the God in my sandal pressed on her bosom.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRest shall I then when the borders of Greece are fringed with the Ganges;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThus shall the past pay its Titan ransom and, Fate her balance<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChanging, a continent ravished suffer the fortune of Helen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThis I have sworn allying my will to Zeus and Ananke.”‘”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo was it spoken, the Phthian challenge. Silent the heroes<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLooked back amazed on their past and into the night of their future.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSilent their hearts felt a grasp from gods and had hints of the heavens.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHush was awhile in the room, as if Fate were trying her balance<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPoised on the thoughts of her mortals. At length with a musical laughter<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSweet as the jangling of bells upon anklets leaping in measure<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAnswered aloud to the gods the virgin Penthesilea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Long I had heard in my distant realms of the fame of Achilles,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIgnorant still while I played with the ball and ran in the dances<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThinking not ever to war; but I dreamed of the shock of the hero.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo might a poet inland who imagines the rumour of Ocean,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tYearn with his lust for the giant upheaval, the dance as of hill-tops,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nToss of the yellow mane and the tawny march and the voices<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLionlike claiming earth as a prey for the clamorous waters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSo have I longed as I came for the cry and the speed of Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut he has lurked in his ships, he has sulked like a boy that is angry.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGlad am I now of his soul that arises hungry for battle,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGlad, whether victor I live or defeated travel the shadows.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nOnce shall my spear have rung on the shield of the Phthian Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tPeace I desire not. I came to a haughty and resolute nation,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHonour and fame they cherish, not life by the gift of a foeman.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSons of the ancient house on whom Ilion looks as on Titans,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nChiefs whom the world admires, do you fear then the shock of the Phthian?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGods, it is said, have decided your doom. Are you less in your greatness?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nAre you not gods to reverse their decrees or unshaken to suffer?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMemnon is dead and the Carians leave you? Lycia lingers?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut from the streams of my East I have come to you, Penthesilea.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Virgin of Asia,” answered Talthybius, “doom of a nation<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBrought thee to Troy and her haters Olympian shielded thy coming,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tVainly who feedest men’s hearts with a hope that the gods have rejected.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nDoom in thy sweet voice utters her counsels robed like a woman.”<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nAnswered the virgin disdainfully, wroth at the words of the Argive:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Hast thou not ended the errand they gave thee, envoy of Hellas?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot, do I think, as our counsellor cam’st thou elected from Argos,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNor as a lover to Troy hast thou hastened with amorous footing<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHurting thy heart with her forwardness. Hatred and rapine sent thee,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGreed of the Ilian gold and lust of the Phrygian women,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nVoice of Achaian aggression! Doom am I truly; let Gnossus<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWitness it, Salamis speak of my fatal arrival and Argos<\/span><\/p>\n

\nSilent remember her wounds.” But the Argive answered the virgin:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Hearken then to the words of the Hellene, Penthesilea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nVirgin to whom earth’s strongest are corn in the sweep of thy sickle,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLioness vain of thy bruit who besiegest the paths of the battle!<\/span><\/p>\n

\nArt thou not satiate yet? hast thou drunk then so little of slaughter?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tDeath has ascended thy car; he has chosen thy hand for his harvest.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut I have heard of thy pride and disdain, how thou scornest the Argives<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd of thy fate thou complainest that ever averse to thy wishes<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCloisters the Phthian and matches with weaklings Penthesilea.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Not of the Ithacan boar nor the wild-cat littered in Locris<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNor of the sleek-coat Argive wild-bulls sates me the hunting;”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo hast thou said, “I would bury my spear in the lion of Hellas.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBlind and infatuate, art thou not beautiful, bright as the lightning?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tWere not thy limbs made cunningly linking sweetness to sweetness?<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIs not thy laughter an arrow surprising hearts imprudent?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCharm is the seal of the gods upon woman. Distaff and girdle,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWork of the jar at the well and the hush of our innermost chambers,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThese were appointed thee, but thou hast scorned them, O Titaness, grasping<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRather the shield and the spear. Thou, obeying thy turbulent nature,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tTramplest o’er laws that are old to the pleasure thy heart has demanded.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nRather bow to the ancient Gods who are seated and constant.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut for thyself thou passest and what hast thou gained for the aeons<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMingled with men in their works and depriving the age of thy beauty?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tFair art thou, woman, but fair with a bitter and opposite sweetness<\/span><\/p>\n

\nClanging in war when thou matchest thy voice with the shout of assemblies.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot to this end was thy sweetness made and the joy of thy members,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNot to this rhythm Heaven tuned its pipe in thy throat of enchantment,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tArmoured like men to go warring forth and with hardness and fierceness<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMix in the strife and the hate while the varied meaning of Nature<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nPerishes hurt in its heart and life is emptied of music.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLong have I marked in your world a madness. Monarchs descending<\/span><\/p>\n

\nCourt the imperious mob of their slaves and their suppliant gesture<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tShameless and venal offends the majestic tradition of ages:<\/span><\/p>\n

\nPrinces plead in the agora; spurred by the tongue of a coward,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHeroes march to an impious war at a priestly bidding.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nGold is sought by the great with the chaffering heart of the trader.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAsia fails and the Gods are abandoning Ida for Hellas.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhy must thou come here to perish, O noble and exquisite virgin,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tHere in a cause not thine, in a quarrel remote from thy beauty,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeaving a land that is lovely and far to be slain among strangers?<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tGirl, to thy rivers go back and thy hills where the grapes are aspirant.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nTrust not a fate that indulges; for all things, Penthesilea,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBreak with excess and he is the wisest who walks by a measure.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nYet, if thou wilt, thou shalt meet me today in the shock of the battle:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThere will I give thee the fame thou desirest; captive in Hellas,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMen shall point to thee always, smiling and whispering, saying,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“This is the woman who fought with the Greeks, overthrowing their heroes;<\/span><\/p>\n

\nThis is the slayer of Ajax, this is the slave of Achilles.”‘”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tThen with her musical laughter the fearless Penthesilea:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n“Well do I hope that Achilles enslaved shall taste of that glory<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tOr on the Phrygian fields lie slain by the spear of a woman.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut to the herald Achaian the Priamid, leader of Troya:<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t“Rest in the halls of thy foes and ease thy fatigue and thy winters.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nHerald, abide till the people have heard and reply to Achilles.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot as the kings of the West are Ilion’s princes and archons,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMonarchs of men who drive their nations dumb to the battle.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tNot in the palace of Priam and not in the halls of the mighty<\/span><\/p>\n

\nWhispered councils prevail and the few dispose of the millions;<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tBut with their nation consulting, feeling the hearts of the commons<\/span><\/p>\n

\nIlion’s princes march to the war or give peace to their foemen.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLightning departs from her kings and the thunder returns from her people<\/span><\/p>\n

\nMet in the ancient assembly where Ilus founded his columns<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tAnd since her famous centuries, names that the ages remember<\/span><\/p>\n

\nLeading her, Troya proclaims her decrees to obedient nations.”<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tCeasing he cried to the thralls of his house and they tended the Argive.<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBrought to a chamber of rest in the luminous peace of the mansion,<\/span><\/p>\n

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\nGrey he sat and endured the food and the wine of his foemen,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tChiding his spirit that murmured within him and gazed undelighted,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nVexed with the endless pomps of Laomedon. Far from those glories<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tMemory winged it back to a sward half-forgotten, a village<\/span><\/p>\n

\nNestling in leaves and low hills watching it crowned with the sunset.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tSo for his hour he abode in earth’s palace of lordliest beauty,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nBut in its caverns his heart was weary and, hurt by the splendours,<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tLonged for Greece and the smoke-darkened roof of a cottage in Argos,<\/span><\/p>\n

\nEyes of a woman faded and children crowding the hearthside.<\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\tJoyless he rose and eastward expected the sunrise on Ida.<\/span><\/p>\n

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\n

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\t\t\t<\/font><\/font><\/span><\/td>\n

\n

 <\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  Ilion Bk-I   What say the vaunters of Greece to the virgin Penthesilea?” High was the Argive’s answer confronting the mighty in Troya. “Princes…<\/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-3020","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\/3020","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=3020"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3020\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3020"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3020"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3020"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}