Homer
The Iliad
Translated by Arthur Gardner Lewis
New York 1911

[Sample from the Opening of the Poem]
 
BOOK I

SING thous the Wrath, O Muse! the baleful wrath
Of Peleus’ son, Achilles; wrath which heaped 
Unnumbered woes upon Achæa’s band.
And hurled to Haded countless mighty souls
Of heroes, and their bodies gave for spoil
To dogs and birds of prey, that the design
Of Zeus might be fulfilled thus.  These things all
Found origin that day when parted first
In jealous bick’ring Agamemnon, lord
Of warriors, and Achilles the divine.
      Who was it then among the gods who brought
These two to discord and to feud?  The son
Of Zeus and Leto.  He, conceiving ire
Against the monarch, caused a fearful plague
To rage t hroughout the army, and the men
Were falling fast.  For Atreus’ son had giv’n
Affront to Chryses,—to that priest who came
To the swift barks of Greece to free his child,
Bringing a boundless ransom.  In his hand
Bore he the fillets of the archer-god
Apollo, on a staff of gold entwined;
Imploring all the Greeks, especially
The twain Atridæ, marshals of the throng:
     “Ye sons, of Atreus—all ye greavèd train,
Come from Achæa, I entreat the host
Throned on Olympus, that your lot may be
To spoil great Priam’s city, and return
To your own homes, well prospered.  Yet restore
Me now the daughter whom I love, and take 
the proffered ransom; reverencing thus
Apollo the far-darting, Zeus’s son.”
     Then, with approval, all the other Greeks
Urged that the priest be honored,—his rich store
Received; but Agamemnon, Atreus’ son,
The thing pleased not.  He sent the suppliant thence
With words of insult, and upon him laid
Thus his stern mandate: “Let me nevermore
Find thee, old man, beside our wide-hulled barks;
Now ling’ring here, nor daring to return!
Else staff and fillet of the archer-king
May naught avail thee.  For that maid of thine,
I will not free her.  Sooner shall old age
Come o’er her there in Argos, in my halls,
Far from her country, as she plies the loom
And decks my marriage-couch with busy tread.
Begone, then, and provoke me not to wrath,
If thou wouldst find they way unscathed from here.”
     He spake: th eold man trembled and obeyed,
And sorrowful roved on along the strand
Of countless-echoed ocean.  As he passed,
Thus he invoked with many an earnest prayer
Lordly Apollo, fair-haired Leto’s child:
     “Hear, Archer silver-bowed! defender thou
Of Chrysa and of Cilla’s hallowed walls,
Holding o’er Tenedos thy kingly sway!
If ever I have roofed a shrine to thee
That pleased thee well, O Smintheus! if I e’er
Consumed upon thine Altars the fat thighs
Of goats or bullocks, now vouchsafe to me
This boon I crave: that, smitten by thy darts,
The Argive host may epxiate these tears.”
     Thus prayed he; and Apollo heard his prayer.
Down from the heights Olympian, full of rage,
The Archer hastened; and his shoulders bore
The bow and covered quiver; and the shafts
Upon the shoulders of the angry king
Rang, as he moved.  Like night he came; afar
From the Greek barks he sate him down, and sped
An arrow; from the silver bow was heard,
Dread to the ear, a twang.  He first assailed
The mules and nimble dogs; but soon he winged
His keen shaft ’gainst the men: thick-crowded gleamed
The funeral pyres enkindled for the slain.

REVIEW COMMENT

 Lewis’s Preface suggests that he is acutely aware of the difficulty of satisfying a Victorian readership with an appropriately decorous English in a translation of an old poem: “The wish to substitute for the plain words of the Greek writer one’s own concenption of what would impress the modern reader as more tasteful, more felicitous, is one which presents itself continually, owing to the change in standards of morality, humanity, and refinement, which over twenty-six centuries have brought with them. As a matter of fact, it is occasionlly necessary, in consequence thereof, slightly to gloss over or modify the blunt language of the text; yet save where good taste absolutely demands the contrary, absolute literalness of rendition has been, in this version consistently studied from first to last.”

Lewis’s verse moves well, and the translation is sufficiently accurate. The diction, however, has a deliberate ersatz archaic smell (“decks my marriage-couch with busy tread,” “with words of insult,” “winged his keen shaft” and so on) which detracts from the immediate impact of the language. The result is a poem which is inferior to Bryant’s earlier blank verse translation (1870).

In his brief Preface, Lewis does set down the single most important reason why translating Homer’s poems matters: “Lastly, considered as a mere amusement and relaxation for idle hours, the translator's task is so thoroughly delightful, that the satisfaction of trying what he can do with the most splendid of ancient poems should be denied to no one.”

Readers who would like to look over the complete text of the Lewis translation should use the following link: Lewis Iliad.
 

[List of Published English Translations of Homer]