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PoemsWhen we returned from Hell, that sorceress Who so loved our captain she set him free, Feasted us with meat and bread and wine, Praising us for our great-heartedness: “In going down alive to the House of Hades, You will have died twice instead of once— Which is enough for any man to bear.” Sunset. And we sailors all lay down To sleep by the stern cables of our ship. But shapely Circe kept Odysseus up Making love to him for the last time, again And again, an infinity of kisses, and then Warned him of the dangers that lay ahead. Of Scylla and Charybdis I shall not speak,
The Sirens cut the wound that would not heal.
This article is available to subscribers and for individual purchaseSubscribe to TNC (Print and Online editions) Subscribe to TNC (Online only) This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 24 December 2005, on page 53 Copyright © 2009 The New Criterion | www.newcriterion.com http://www.newcriterion.com/articles.cfm/a-new-poem-1413
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