I was thinking today about “voyage literature”, which is often poetic. Here are some examples.
Ὀδύσσεια (The Odyssey), Homer, 8th C. BCE
ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ
πλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσεν
πολλῶν δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω,
πολλὰ δ᾽ ὅ γ᾽ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,
ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.
ἀλλ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ὣς ἑτάρους ἐρρύσατο, ἱέμενός περ:
αὐτῶν γὰρ σφετέρῃσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο,
νήπιοι, οἳ κατὰ βοῦς Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο
ἤσθιον: αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
τῶν ἁμόθεν γε, θεά, θύγατερ Διός, εἰπὲ καὶ ἡμῖν.
Translation by G.A. Schomberg, 1879-82
(see https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_translations_of_Homer)
Sing Muse the hero versatile, who roved
So far, so long, after he overthrew
Troy’s holy citadel ; of many men
He saw the cities, and their manners learned;
And woes he suffered on the deep; he strove
To win his comrades’ lives, and safe return.
But all his strivings failed to rescue them:
They perished for their witless sacrilege,
Who ate the oxen of Hyperion Sun;
Hence nevermore saw they their native land.
Daughter of Jove, help us to tell the tale.
Widsið, unknown poet, 6th-10th C. CE
(to be read A-B, A-B etc.)
| A | B |
|---|---|
| Widsið maðolade, | wordhord onleac, |
| se þe monna mæst | mægþa ofer eorþan, |
| folca geondferde; | oft he on flette geþah |
| mynelicne maþþum. | Him from Myrgingum |
| æþele onwocon. | He mid Ealhhilde, |
| fælre freoþuwebban, | forman siþe |
| Hreðcyninges | ham gesohte |
| eastan of Ongle, | Eormanrices, |
| wraþes wærlogan. | … |
| Swa ic geondferde fela | fremdra londa |
| geond ginne grund. | Godes ond yfles |
| þær ic cunnade | cnosle bidæled, |
| freomægum feor | folgade wide. |
| Forþon ic mæg singan | ond secgan spell, |
| mænan fore mengo | in meoduhealle |
| hu me cynegode | cystum dohten. |
Translation
Widsith spoke, unlocked his word-hoard,
he who had travelled most of all men
through tribes and nations across the earth.
Often he had gained great treasure in hall.
He belonged by birth to the Myrging tribe.
Along with Ealhild, the kind peace-weaver,
for the first time, from the Baltic coast,
he sought the home of Eormanric,
king of the Ostrogoths, hostile to traitors.
…
So I travelled widely through foreign lands,
through distant countries, and there I met
both good and bad fortune, far from my kin,
and served as a follower far and wide.
And so I can sing and tell a tale,
declare to the company in the mead-hall
how noble rulers rewarded me with gifts.
Rimini, Rudyard Kipling, early 20th C. (?)
When I left Rome for Lalage’s sake
By the Legions’ Road to Rimini,
She vowed her heart was mine to take
With me and my shield to Rimini –
(Till the Eagles flew from Rimini --)
And I’ve tramped Britain, and I’ve tramped Gaul,
And the Pontic shore where the snow-flakes fall
As white as the neck of Lalage –
(As cold as the heart of Lalage!)
And I’ve lost Britain, and I’ve lost Gaul,
And I’ve lost Rome and, worst of all,
I’ve lost Lalage!
The Song of Eärendil, J.R.R. Tolkien, pub. 1933
Eärendil was a mariner
that tarried in Arvernien;
he built a boat of timber felled
in Nimbrethil to journey in;
her sails he wove of silver fair,
of silver were her lanterns made,
her prow was fashioned like a swan,
and light upon her banners laid.
…
Beneath the Moon and under star
he wandered far from northern strands,
bewildered on enchanted ways
beyond the days of mortal lands.
From gnashing of the Narrow Ice
where shadow lies on frozen hills,
from nether heats and burning waste
he turned in haste, and roving still …
