Saturday, January 19, 2008
The Iliad
We came, we read, we conquered.
I turned in my paper on communal grief today.
Here are some vividly beautiful passages:
----
And there among them a young boy plucked his lyre,
so clear it could break the heart with longing,
and what he sang was a dirge for the dying year,
lovely... his fine voice rising and falling low
(18. 664-667)
...the watchfires blazed among them.
Hundreds strong, as stars in the night sky glittering
round the moon's brilliance blaze in all their glory
when the air falls to a sudden, windless calm...
all the lookout peaks stand out and the jutting cliffs
and the steep ravines and down from high heaven bursts
the boundless bright air and all the stars shine clear
and the shepherd's heart exults...
(8. 640-647)
I turned in my paper on communal grief today.
Here are some vividly beautiful passages:
----
And there among them a young boy plucked his lyre,
so clear it could break the heart with longing,
and what he sang was a dirge for the dying year,
lovely... his fine voice rising and falling low
(18. 664-667)
...the watchfires blazed among them.
Hundreds strong, as stars in the night sky glittering
round the moon's brilliance blaze in all their glory
when the air falls to a sudden, windless calm...
all the lookout peaks stand out and the jutting cliffs
and the steep ravines and down from high heaven bursts
the boundless bright air and all the stars shine clear
and the shepherd's heart exults...
(8. 640-647)
