by Brett Rutherford
Adapted from Meleager, The Greek Anthology, xii, 53
Sailors of the Hellespont, if
as your richly-laden barks
head full sail out on the North Wind,
as you pass Kos, and leaning in
toward its fair beaches, look out
for a woman alone — Phaniôn
she is called — standing alert
and watchful for friendly sails.
Me it is she looks for — I promised,
and I shall get there by and by.
The long way ’round, by land I tread,
till from the nearest point I’ll take
the shortest crossing. Sea-legs I’ve none;
too many monsters of the deep
I know by name. Sea-sickness
is my real complaint, but tell
the lady instead I am on pilgrimage,
counting each step until I see her.
Bear her this message, sailor friends,
that I am bound to come to Kos
one way or another. That done,
Zeus and strong gales be on your side.
