The famous ‘Cave of the Nymphs’, where Ulysses hid
His accumulated wealth on waking in Ithaca, we did
Not see. Nor, in Stavros, could we locate
The remains of his palace (not that great,
By all accounts). Laertes’ Farm we saw;
Basically olive trees, some stones and nothing more.
Polis, too, we found – a glorious place.
But of ancient sunken cities, not a trace.
And yet this was his isle. Rocky,
And double-humped, every inch of this land
Is his, while a glance to sea always gives
The feeling he has just, at last, arrived. His stocky,
Unmistakeable frame, and his crafty hand
Are manifest in every village. Odysseus lives.
His accumulated wealth on waking in Ithaca, we did
Not see. Nor, in Stavros, could we locate
The remains of his palace (not that great,
By all accounts). Laertes’ Farm we saw;
Basically olive trees, some stones and nothing more.
Polis, too, we found – a glorious place.
But of ancient sunken cities, not a trace.
And yet this was his isle. Rocky,
And double-humped, every inch of this land
Is his, while a glance to sea always gives
The feeling he has just, at last, arrived. His stocky,
Unmistakeable frame, and his crafty hand
Are manifest in every village. Odysseus lives.
(3.4.1997)
