Elpenor’s Plea

5“And first the soul of my companion came,
Elpenor, for he was not buried yet
In earth’s broad bosom. We had left him dead
In Circe’s halls, unwept and unentombed.
We had another task. But when I now
Beheld I pitied him, and, shedding tears,
I said these winged words: ‘How came you,
Elpenor, hither into these abodes
Of night and darkness? You have made more speed,
Although on foot, than I in my good ship.’

6“I spoke; the phantom sobbed and answered me: —
‘Son of Laertes, nobly born and wise,
Odysseus! it was the evil doom decreed
By some divinity, and too much wine,
That wrought my death. I laid myself to sleep
In Circe’s palace, and, remembering not
The way to the long stairs that led below,
Fell from the roof, and by the fall my neck
Was broken at the spine; my soul went down
To Hades. I conjure you now, by those
Whom you have left behind and far away,
Your consort and your father —him by whom
You when a boy were reared —and by your son
Telemachus, who in your palace-halls
Is left alone —for well I know that you,
In going hence from Hades’ realm, will moor
Your gallant vessel in the Aeaean isle —
That there, O king, you will remember me,
And leave me not when you depart thence
Unwept, unburied, lest I bring on you
The anger of the gods. But burn me there
With all the armor that I wore, and pile,
Close to the hoary deep, a mound for me —
A hapless man of whom posterity
Shall hear. Do this for me, and plant upright
Upon my tomb the oar with which I rowed,
While yet a living man, among your friends.’

7“He spoke and I replied: ‘Unhappy youth,
All this I duly will perform for you.’