Gone from the Kingdom of the dead, we launched once again into the open sea.
My men drove our vessel forward through the waters’ engulfing swells.
We bound to the east, where Dawn with her rose-red fingertips shone most royal.
Towards which the squadron sailed the rough and deadly winds.
Our days were persistent,
wind and rain showered down on crewmen and
breakers hurtled aboard the ship’s wooden decks.
I watched my men as they each broke and wailed,
calling curses to the ill-disposed earthquake god, Poseidon.
At this, a great wave crashed down upon our heads.
A terrible predicament from the giant swell’s assault,
our craft whirled round and round,
with the deadly power of a godly earth-shaker.
Ashen terror gripped brave men, as steering-oars were wrenched from grasps.
“Surely God? Help me!” the man of intrigue cried.
At these words
the goddess Pallas Athena, daughter of storming Zeus,
uplifted the Ocean River’s rabid mist and an island stood clear.

To my shipmates I urged:
“Quickly men, row swiftly past these cruel waves- race our black ship onward!”
Before the stormy wind tore our ship to splinters,
we were moored onto the secluded sandy shores of a leveled island,
separate and shielded from the angry storm behind us,
rich with green woods close to shore, where sheep peacefully bred.
Shyly so, Dryope, a nubile maiden approached our craft.
Out of the trees she pranced with the exultant ease of a white-tailed doe,
her eyes softened like that of a new mother,
who recently birthed a white-speckled fawn,
whilst she gently licks her newborn clean of its infant scent.
Her white skin glowed across her naked body as she glided towards the awestruck men.
Like a young doe approaching the hungry stares of a mighty lion pride,
the doe with iron strength and the lions with eyes of yearning.
“Guests,” the white-faced nymph called out to the crewmen,
“my friends, may I welcome you to our homely island Kythopoli, where
grass grows greenest and woodly nymphs make their home.
Handsome strangers, quick, my girls will bathe you in our blue lagoons.
May we offer you shelter from the harsh winds.”
At that
Woodly maidens revealed themselves behind sturdy oak trees
and approached the back of their queenly dryad.
The maidens, carrying sparkling flasks of green suppling olive oil
led the hypnotized men to bathe in the crystal blue waters.
In the center of the dense woods rested the warm bubbling, bursting spring
where the white-faced nymphs took their sleeping state.
No mortal man could ever contest to the invitation to lie
with the woodly maidens of Kythopoli.
For thirty days we sat at ease on the island,
eating our fill of the land’s wealthy hoard of fruit.
Until one restless night, I dreamt of the man with bitter fate.
Elpenor came to me in a dream and reminded me of his last request
for a proper soldiers burial.
Athena roused my heart for the young man,
and placed thoughts of home into my mind.
I needed to return to Circe, and bury Elpenor, the man of bitter fate and
Return to timid Penelope in Ithaca.
To a soldier,
I dug my heel deep into the man’s tender ribs and roused him quickly.
“Now my friend, we have outlived our stay, rouse the others.
We must leave for Aeaea at once,
may Zeus the Thunderer, Hera’s king bless us a smooth sail back.”