English translations of Homer

[1] Ancient Greek: μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος οὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί᾽ Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε᾽ ἔθηκε, πολλὰς δ᾽ ἰφθίμους ψυχὰς Ἄϊδι προΐαψεν ἡρώων, αὐτοὺς δὲ ἑλώρια τεῦχε κύνεσσιν οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι, Διὸς δ᾽ ἐτελείετο βουλή, ἐξ οὗ δὴ τὰ πρῶτα διαστήτην ἐρίσαντε Ἀτρεΐδης τε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν καὶ δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς.

— τίς τ᾽ ἄρ σφωε θεῶν ἔριδι ξυνέηκε μάχεσθαι; Λητοῦς καὶ Διὸς υἱός: ὃ γὰρ βασιλῆϊ χολωθεὶς νοῦσον ἀνὰ στρατὸν ὄρσε κακήν, ὀλέκοντο δὲ λαοί, οὕνεκα τὸν Χρύσην ἠτίμασεν ἀρητῆρα Ἀτρεΐδης: ὃ γὰρ ἦλθε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν λυσόμενός τε θύγατρα φέρων τ᾽ ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα, στέμματ᾽ ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν ἑκηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος χρυσέῳ ἀνὰ σκήπτρῳ, καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς, Ἀτρεΐδα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν: Ἀτρεΐδαι τε καὶ ἄλλοι ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοί, ὑμῖν μὲν θεοὶ δοῖεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ᾽ ἔχοντες ἐκπέρσαι Πριάμοιο πόλιν, εὖ δ᾽ οἴκαδ᾽ ἱκέσθαι: παῖδα δ᾽ ἐμοὶ λύσαιτε φίλην, τὰ δ᾽ ἄποινα δέχεσθαι, ἁζόμενοι Διὸς υἱὸν ἑκηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα.

Romanization: mēnin aeide thea Pēlēiadeō Achilēos oulomenēn, hē myri' Achaiois alge' ethēke, pollas d' iphthimous psychas Aidi proiapsen hērōōn, autous de helōria teuche kynessin oiōnoisi te pasi, Dios d' eteleieto boulē, ex hou dē ta prōta diastētēn erisante Atreidēs te anax andrōn kai dios Achilleus.

Lētous kai Dios huios: ho gar basilēi cholōtheis nouson ana straton orse kakēn, olekonto de laoi, houneka ton Chrysēn ētimasen arētēra Atreidēs: ho gar ēlthe thoas epi nēas Achaiōn lysomenos te thygatra pherōn t' apereisi' apoina, stemmat' echōn en chersin hekēbolou Apollōnos chryseō ana skēptrō, kai lisseto pantas Achaious, Atreida de malista dyō, kosmētore laōn: Atreidai te kai alloi euknēmides Achaioi, hymin men theoi doien Olympia dōmat' echontes ekpersai Priamoio polin, eu d' oikad' hikesthai: paida d' emoi lysaite philēn, ta d' apoina dechesthai, hazomenoi Dios huion hekēbolon Apollōna.

Goddess, sing of the cataclysmic wrath of great Achilles, son of Peleus, which caused the Greeks immeasurable pain and sent so many noble souls of heroes to Hades,

Ancient Greek: ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ πλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσεν πολλῶν δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω, πολλὰ δ᾽ ὅ γ᾽ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν, ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.

ἀλλ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ὣς ἑτάρους ἐρρύσατο, ἱέμενός περ: αὐτῶν γὰρ σφετέρῃσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο, νήπιοι, οἳ κατὰ βοῦς Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο ἤσθιον: αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.

Romanization: andra moi ennepe, mousa, polytropon, hos mala polla planchthē, epei troiēs hieron ptoliethron epersen: pollōn d' anthrōpōn iden astea kai noon egnō, polla d' ho g' en pontō pathen algea hon kata thymon, arnymenos hēn te psychēn kai noston hetairōn.

all' oud' hōs hetarous errysato, hiemenos per: autōn gar spheterēsin atasthaliēsin olonto, nēpioi, ohi kata bous Hyperionos Ēelioio ēsthion: autar ho toisin apheileto nostimon ēmar.

resound; Muse make the man thy theme, for shrewdness famed And genius versatile, who far and wide A Wand’rer, after Ilium overthrown, Discover’d various cities, and the mind And manners learn’d of men, in lands remote.

He num’rous woes on Ocean toss’d, endured, Anxious to save himself, and to conduct His followers to their home; yet all his care Preserved them not; they perish’d self-destroy’d By their own fault; infatuate!

Tell me, Muse, of that man, so ready at need, who wandered far and wide, after he had sacked the sacred citadel of Troy, and many were the men whose towns he saw and whose mind he learnt, yea, and many the woes he suffered in his heart upon the deep, striving to win his own life and the return of his company.

Sing Muse the hero versatile, who roved So far, so long, after he overthrew Troy's holy citadel; of many men He saw the cities, and their manners learned; And woes he suffered on the deep; he strove To win his comrades' lives, and safe return.

Who saw the towns of many men, much knowledge did obtain Anent their ways, and with much woe was heart-wrung on the main, Seeking his own life to preserve, his friends' return to gain.

The Hero of craft-renown, O Song-goddess, chant me his fame, Who, when low he had laid Troy town, unto many a far land came, And many a city beheld he, and knew the hearts of their folk, And by woes of the sea was unquelled, o'er the rock of his spirit that broke, When he fain would won for a prey his life, and his friends' return, Yet never they saw that day, howsoever his heart might yearn, But they perished every one, by their own mad deeds did they fall, For they slaughtered the kine of the Sun, and devoured them — fools were they all.

After the Holy Burg, Troy town, he had wasted with war; He saw the towns of menfolk, and the mind of men did he learn; As he warded his life in the world, and his fellow-farers' return, Many a grief of heart on the deep-sea flood he bore, Nor yet might he save his fellows, for all that he longed for it sore They died of their own soul's folly, for witless as they were They ate up the beasts of the Sun, the Rider of the air, And he took away from them all their dear returning day; O goddess, O daughter of Zeus, from whencesoever ye may, Gather the tale, and tell it, yea even to us at the last!

Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many resources, who many Ills was made to endure, when he Troy's sacred city had wasted; Many the people whose cities he saw, and learned of their customs, Many also the sorrows he suffered at sea in his spirit, Striving to save his own life and secure the return of his comrades But not thus his comrades he saved, however he wished it, For by their own presumptuous deeds they foolishly perished: Madmen they, who devoured the sun god, Hyperion's oxen, And in revenge he took from them their day of returning.

Many on the sea The sorrows in his inmost heart he bore For rescue of his comrades and his life; Those not for all his effort might he save; Fools, of their own perversities they fell, Daring consume the cattle of the Sun Hyperion, who bereft them of return!

— Note: translation inclusive of Books 13–24 —O Muse, instruct me of the man who drew His changeful course through wanderings not a few After he sacked the holy town of Troy, And saw the cities and the counsel knew

Many a people he saw and beheld their cities and customs, Many a woe he endured in his heart as he tossed on the ocean, Striving to win him his life and to bring home safely his comrades.

Ruined by their own act of infatuate madness they perished, Fools that they were—who the cows of the sun-god, lord Hyperion, Slaughtered and ate; and he took from the men their day of returning.

Striving to win his life, and eke return for his comrades: Yet, though he strove full sore, he could not save his companions, For, as was meet and just, through deeds of folly they perished: Fools !

Of many men He saw the cities and he learned the mind; Ay, and at heart he suffered many woes Upon the sea, intent to save his life And bring his comrades home.

Even so he could not save his companions, hard though he strove to; they were destroyed by their own wild recklessness, fools, who devoured the oxen of Helios, the Sun God, and he took away the day of their homecoming.

Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story of that man skilled in all ways of contending, the wanderer, harried for years on end, after he plundered the stronghold on the proud height of Troy.

He saw the townlands and learned the minds of many distant men, and weathered many bitter nights and days in his deep heart at sea, while he fought only to save his life, to bring his shipmates home.

But not by will nor valor could he save them, for their own recklessness destroyed them all-- children and fools, they killed and feasted on the cattle of Lord Hêlios, the Sun, and he who moves all day through heaven took from their eyes the dawn of their return.

Tell me, Muse, about the man of many turns, who many Ways wandered when he had sacked Troy's holy citadel; He saw the cities of many men, and he knew their thought; On the ocean he suffered many pains within his heart, Striving for his life and his companions' return.