Bring me a thick block, lads; let’s carve a blockhead god!”
The comrades laughed and dragged out a huge half-burnt log
then hacked away until the piper, too, took heart, 520
forgot his fevers, seized an ax, and hewed away
while the flame-minded man egged on his lion-brood:
“We’ve got a thick log, fellows, a sharp-cutting ax,
a mocking mind, enough and more than enough, I swear,
to make a miracle-working god and the world’s savior!” 525
The piper then grew bold and measured the block thrice:
“It’s big enough for a drum-gut, air-pregnant god!”
His feather-brains caught fire till he began with rage
to hack a bloated belly edged with shaggy hair
then drew the sacred rites upon it with thick paints: 530
bread, food, and huge wine-casks, and under the domed belly,
within a fistful of pig-thistles, wedged a goat-bell fast.
God stood revealed full to the piper’s marveling gaze;
his friends applauded, but then mocked the god-creator:
“Good work! Huge is his worship, and his belly’s huge, 535
but haven’t you lost his godly head in all your haste?”
The wretched piper blushed and bit his wagtail tongue:
“The bitch from too much haste, they say, bears bowlegged pups.
I’ll just cut off a bit of belly to make his head.”
He raised his ax, but the god-mocker seized his hands: 540
“Leave him alone! This great god has no need of heads!
Hitch up your heart, my piper, fling God over your back,
climb up to town and trade him, then send camel-loads
of heaped-up food, goatskins of wine, for we’re starved, brother!
Songster, we’ve run you down and called you worthless. Rise! 545
Rise now, strap on your wrangling pipe and shame us all,
teach us that a good song is worth a thousand hands.
Now listen closely: each word is a mighty seed,
so sweeten all your words with no false shame or fear,
then, lad, let your unbridled mind go plunging down, 550
thrash with your flailing hands and neck, foam at the lips,
and if you can—and here’s the trick—when the need rises,
fall on the earth and swoon, but keep on your guard, for if
you suddenly burst out laughing, wretch, we’ll all go lost!
You’ll see: the blacks will jump for joy, their eyes will bulge, 555
and, who knows, even a miracle can happen then,
for the soul flares up quickly and the body melts.
But hold on tightly to your head don’t lose your wits,
and if the insane get well, and blind men suddenly see,
and jungle fevers hiss and steam from burning mouths, 560
the whisper to yourself, and keep your thoughts a secret:
‘Everything’s smoke, air, brains, a fancy falsely pregnant!’”
Orpheus heard all this good advice but swallowed none:
“You’ve raved amuck on purpose just to drive me mad!”
Then the all-knowing man laughed wryly and thumped his back: 565
“Don’t dig too deeply in the soul or you’ll go daft.
I’ll trust you now with only this, treasure it safe:
the heart’s a hidden magic flower called bright-blaze
that flames in dark and turns all things to purest gold.”
The cross-eyed piper’s mind could not digest these words; 570
he shook, glanced at his master and then at the far town,
but the sly archer pushed him on without compassion:
“Orpheus, get out from under my yoke, unglue yourself;
now, for the general good, march off with your own weapons
and stop those wagging evil tongues, dear friend, who say 575
that songsters are not worth the daily bread they eat.”
He spoke, and honor blazed within the piper’s breast;
he seized the new god, cast it manfully down his back
where the drum-swollen belly shone, the goat-bell rang,
and his two fluted shanks soon vanished up the rocky slope. 580
Then Kentaur twirled his fat mustache and had his say:
“Shave both my whiskers, friends, if I turn out a liar:
our friend forementioned may be a punk, but he’s all there.
Mark what I say—he’ll beat us all, and then some, too.”
Meanwhile the piper, wailing his fate, stumbled on stones, 585
and when with a strained sweating back he’d puffed and reached
the hilltop and spied below the town’s sun-beaten huts,
he dropped his holy burden under an oak tree’s shade
and wiped the sweat that poured down from his narrow brows.
It was high noon, the stones steamed in the fearful blaze 590
and the sun leapt on terraces and sang in fields
like a coarse peasant who returns from his work drunk
with a red wine-soaked kerchief round his burning nape.
Then in the savage heat, as wings sprang from his back,
spindle-shanks raced through town, screeching to hide his fear, 595
and when he saw skulls hanging from the trees like fruit,
the bolted doors blood-drenched and wreathed with swarms of snakes,
he almost died of fear, but tossed his head with pride:
“If you can’t get your breath back soon, don’t be a piper!
Now cock your cap, this is a dream, and you’ll wake soon!” 600
The town was roused and leapt with life, doors banged and clanged,
all saw a lean white bird that swooped to seize their souls,
and though the piper blenched with sickly fear, he yelled:
“Run, friends, God has dismounted in the oak tree’s shade,
your hills have filled with haunting ghosts—open your cellars, 605
bring them good wine to drink, fat sheep and bread to eat,
for gift brings gift, and when they’ve eaten, you’ll all rejoice,
for with a small small breath they’ll blow your ills away.”
The rooms filled with commotion, all the arched doors opened
and swarms of women, children, and men rushed screeching out 610
and held their holy offerings high, bread, meat, and dates;
mothers came bearing their sick babes, girls their clay hearts,
and young men on their backs bore off their wretched parents.
Wails, shouts and cries of joy rose with thick clouds of dust
led by the piper’s pointed head that shrilled in trance, 615
but when they reached the oak, all shuddered and shook with fear,
and Orpheus, paralyzed with dread, sank on his knees.
“Onward, my lads!” he groaned to bolster his own heart,
but the mob crouched and sucked in its breath as the oak growled,
leaf shook with leaf, branch clashed on branch in jabbering talk. 620
His hair on end, the tranced man crawled to God’s old oak,
saw in the deep blue shade the monstrous belly blazing,
and tried to grin obsequiously, his jaw awry,
and when he stooped and tried to raise the flaming block,
the goat-bell bellowed, his knees gave way, and he fell prone; 625
but taking heart once more, poor cross-eyes bowed and cried:
“Great God, all that I’ve mocked now comes to scourge my soul!”
Boldly he grabbed his god and rushed out to a clearing,
and as the mob fell on its face, groveling and shaking,
cross-eyes enthroned his god on a tall sun-washed stone. 630
The trembling mob took courage, raised its eyes with stealth
and blinked with awe upon the god’s round
bulging drum;
some saw a pitch-black head with three deep flaming eyes
and some a monstrous mouth that chewed an infant child.
When Orpheus found his senses, he smiled secretly 635
and mocked his monkey-heart with its fool’s cap and bells:
“Come on, my monkey-heart, let’s break in dance! Take care,
don’t stumble to the dance tune of my tambourine!
Look how the festival swells high, don’t shame me now.”
He spoke, let loose his fettered heart and clapped his hands: 640
“Brothers, our god is hungry, open your cellar doors,
white birds have swooped and flung this god like a white egg
beneath your holy oak to hatch in blazing light!
Listen, for his dread voice bursts from my mouth in flood!”
He deepened his thin voice until a rattlesnake 645
crawled up each trembling ear and licked it hungrily:
“Black men, the sun’s my throne, I grasp a double ax,
I’ve listened to your pains, my kind soul aches for you,
and now I’ve swooped to earth to choke the throat of illness.
I’ll give back eyes to all the blind, legs to the maimed, 650
I’ll give male-bearing herbs to every sterile maid,
but first bring my reward, give me and I shall give you!”
The piper’s brains now blazed till his head shook and swayed,
his words bounced back from the hot ground and hit him hard;
though he struck terror, terror grabbed his crooked knees; 655
he sowed false hopes and his own bald pate sprang with grass
for his words burst to life and coiled him round like snakes.
An old man, blind from birth, screeched “I can see!” and wept,
a lame man sprang up suddenly on the stones and danced,
a young girl, wrung with passion, saw her lover stand 660
in the empty light, and reached her hands with seething heart,
and as the piper stood in the thick crowd, all pressed
him close, confessed their pain, and their pain shrank and died.
The sun set, twilight fell and sank all eyes in shade,
fires were lit, the people danced, and sterile maids 665
knelt down and played with the bell’s clapper till fields rang
and the proud piper sang the praise of his god’s grace:
“If heavy lust should seize you, it’ll turn to buxom girls
who’ll come clap-clapping up your stairs on wooden clogs;
if hunger flails you, God himself will fall at your feet 670
like a wild hare, strip his own skin and stretch on coals.
Each herb on earth to his clear eyesight stands revealed,
antidotes to all evils, nostrums to all ills.
Come all infirm and suffering, I am the well of health,
I hold balms, medications, laxatives, injections, 675
balsams for all fevers, charms for the evil eye,
and babies for your womenfolk. Come one, come all!”
The piper shrilled till his tongue burst, all night and day
bartering and selling his great god, marveling with awe
what fearful powers a man holds in his wormy guts. 680
All things on earth, disease and joys, are the mind’s fancies:
it blows, they take on flesh; it blows again, they vanish.
But slowly the mob’s warmth and the air’s ululation
dizzied the feathery brains of the air-seeded fool.
At midnight in god’s wooden womb he heard a light 685
rustle of wings, like the soft sound of fumbling bats,
and felt a dense and fluttering swarm of hissing souls.
He leapt to touch and see, but then recalled his words
and laughter when he’d held the ax and hewed this god,
but as he drew near now, his mind turned mud and mist, 690
the oak in darkness filled with ghosts and bloomed with stars.
One night the piper could bear no more and raised his ax,
but as the black log roared and echoed with shrill cries,
his pigeon brains gave way, his spindly limbs grew numb,
because, from the oak’s heavy shade, in the thick dark, 695
he saw a wild flame blaze and heard a great voice cry:
“Piper!” then all at once from the oak’s root there burst
hoarse cackling laughs like waters in a wild cascade.
With his own eyes he had seen Death, God’s spirit whipped him,
gibberish sounds foamed at his mouth, and then he fell down fainting. 700
Thus on the hilltop the poor piper fought with air
while in the fields his glad friends seized row after row
of camel caravans weighed with rich and lavish food.
“Fellows, our bellies are filled, the soul’s come back to its place!
Blessed be the piper, each bite we take is his forgiveness; 705
bravo, he’s got the blacks now eating out of his hand.”
For thus did marveling glutton sing his old friend’s praise:
“He’s sold that wooden belly dear, each dram a camel!
God is good merchandise, my friends, sales without end!”
But the archer’s heart grew heavy as he watched the slope, 710
until on the fifth day he grasped his bow of horn
and climbed up toward the twisting hilltop, murmuring:
“His brain is much too small and the trick much too great,
a thousand dark doubts tyrannize my decoy mind.”
He found the piper with the blacks prone on the ground 715
adoring the block with babbling and bombastic praise,
then seized his famous bow with rage while his wild heart
swelled like a viper in his chest and hissed with scorn.
Gliding light-footed toward his friend, he kicked him hard,
but Orpheus crouched, gazed sullenly and twitched his ass 720
until the lone man grasped him by his grimy nape,
raised him high toward the sun, then dashed him down to earth:
“Piper, wake up, an evil dream has poisoned your brain!
What shame to worship wood! Open your cross-eyes, see,
this is that same domed belly you hacked but yesterday. 725
Quit kicking, raise your bleary eyes, give me an answer!”
But the pale head kept mute and only hissed and squirmed
as the unpitying archer shook it like a wineskin.
“That’s what you’ve come to then, the world’s butt and buffoon!
Sometimes my heart boils, but at times I burst out laughing; 730
I’ve no more patience now and call for the last time:
Get up, cast off this vertigo, this passing dream,
I promise not to tell a soul nor even to blame you;
Orpheus, think well on man’s nobility, his freedom!”
But Orpheus stared with a dull gaze on his roused master, 735
threw himself huddling on the earth and grasped with fear
his blockhead god in the thick shade of the old oak.
The archer’s blood rushed to his head, he clenched his fists,
and all his limbs felt tired as though he’d killed a man;
slowly he tamed his wrath, then dashed down the descent, 740
and his eyes brimmed with tears, he sighed and chid his mind:
“Haven’t I told you more than once or twice, you fool,
to use your hard hand gently, for men break in two,
but you still stubbornly think the world can reach your height.”
He spread his legs with wrath and swiftly lunged through stones 745
till in his passing the whole mountain shook and roared.
When finally he reached his troop he raised his hand:
“Push on, my lords who squat in shade like
dogs on dung,
soon, I’ve no doubt, you’ll want to pitch your tents here too;
it’s time again to wring our guts and raise our hearts.” 750
When the cub saw her friend, she leapt on his strong shoulders
and licked his sweating temples with her rasping tongue,
and he caressed her fondly like a favorite child.
All shook to hear their angry master’s rousing cry,
and when they turned and saw his face in the clear light, 755
they quailed, for snakes crawled coiling round his beard and hair
and four eyes gleamed with yellow rage on his dark brow.
A cold and deadly wind blew on the glutton’s chest
so that he turned to Granite and slowly began to wail:
“I loved him like my own two eyes, we never parted, 760
his sprightly songs would often rouse my drooping heart,
but now we’ll never see our chirping friend again.
Look, the man-killer’s eyes have sunk now in deep wells!”
Eagle-eyed Granite frowned and thought of Rocky then,
yet kept his mouth closed, for he longed to hold his pain 765
wholly unsquandered like a secret consolation;
but guileless glutton blabbed on to relieve his heart:
“The more his ship is tossed the more he casts off ballast.
In Crete he flung two comrades off to ease the hull;
one was still living, with a bloody regal crown, 770
and one he held in ruthless hands like a burnt torch;
then Rocky vanished, our bright sun, light of our eyes,
and now that mouth is gagged which once adorned our prow.
Only we two still stagger by the gunwale now,
but friend, don’t preen yourself, for soon that time draws close, 775
I see it even now, and welcome, when our turn will come.”
As they talked on, Rocky far off strolled through his town
and all his people knelt and worshiped his white feet
while twelve bronze-armored blacks trailed in a long row,
their white eyes rolling and alert for fear he’d vanish; 780
behind them, waving his long trunk and silver bells,
plodded an old white elephant with a golden tower.
Meanwhile the comrades clambered to a high-pitched knoll
where fresh winds cooled their temples, and their flanks rejoiced,
sunburnt and firm, to tread on a more sturdy ground. 785
Poisonous cacti crawled with thorns among the stones
and struck stark fear, though somewhere in their thorns there smiled,
—who would have thought it?—virginal flowers filled with honey.
The Odyssey: A Modern Sequel Page 68