Peter Huchel
German Poems
The Grave of Odysseus
No one will find
the grave of Odysseus,
no stab of spade
the encrusted helmet
in the haze of petrified bones.
Do not look for the cave
where down below the earth
a wafting soot, a mere shadow,
damaged by pitch from torches
went to his dead companions,
raising weaponless hands,
splattered with blood of slaughtered sheep.
All is mine, said the dust,
the sun's grave behind the desert,
the reefs full of the sea's roar,
unending noon that still warns
the pirate's boy from Ithaca,
the rudder jagged with salt,
the maritime charts and lists
of ancient Homer.
poetrymagazines' note: Reproduced with kind permission of the Michael Hamburger Trust.
Translated by Michael Hamburger
Page(s) 162
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