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- Glide: 1
- Odysseus leaves the ship and rushes to Circe’s hall. The god Hermes stops him to give him a plant that will weaken Circe’s power. (Homer calls it a moly; it might have been a kind of garlic.) Protected by the plant’s magic, Odysseus resists Circe’s sorcery. The goddess, realizing she has met her match, frees Odysseus’s men.
- Glide: 2
- [I] made a solemn vow that if I reached my homeland, I would sacrifice my best young heifer, still uncalved, and pile the altar high with offerings for the dead. I promised for Tiresias as well a pure black sheep, the best in all my flock. So with these vows, I called upon the dead. I took the sheep and slit their throats above the pit. Black blood flowed out. The spirits came up out of Erebus and gathered round. Teenagers, girls and boys, the old who suffered for many years, and fresh young brides whom labor destroyed in youth; and many men cut down in battle by bronze spears, still dressed in armor stained with their blood. From every side they crowded around the pit, with eerie cries.
- Glide: 3
- ‘Odysseus, you think of going home as honey-sweet, but the gods will make it bitter. I think Poseidon will not cease to feel incensed because you blinded his dear son. You have to suffer, but you can get home, if you control your urges and your men.
- Turn from the purple depths and sail your ship towards the island of Thrinacia; there you will find grazing cows and fine fat sheep, belonging to the god who sees and hears all things--the Sun God. If you leave them be, keeping your mind fixed on your journey home, you may still get to Ithaca, despite great losses. But if you hurt those cows, I see disaster for your ship and for your men.
- If you yourself escape, you will come home late and exhausted, in a stranger’s boat, having destroyed your men. And you will find invaders eating your supplies at home, courting your wife with gifts. Then you will match the suitors’ violence and kill them all, inside your halls, through tricks or in the open, with sharp bronze weapons. When those men are dead, you have to go away and take an oar to people with no knowledge of the sea, who do not salt their food. They never saw a ship’s red prow, nor oars, the wings of boats. I prophesy the signs of things to come.
- When you meet somebody, a traveler, who calls the thing you carry on your back a winnowing fan, then fix that oar in earth and make fine sacrifices to Poseidon--a bull and stud-boar. Then you will go home and offer holy hecatombs to all the deathless gods who live in heaven, each in order. Gentle death will come to you, far from the sea, of comfortable old age, your people flourishing. So it will be.
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