Lisa Jarnot
Iliad, Book XXII
$8
So then the Trojans
poured down through the city
and fled there like deer
that were brightened
with sweat,
and they drank
and they cooled down
their thirst,
and they
rested themselves
in the city’s embankments
and all of the troops of Achaeans
pressed close to the outermost walls
with their shoulders to steady their shields
and then there was Hector
where fate made him stay
in front of the city
and alone at its gate
while Phoebus Apollo he turned
to the son of Peleus and spoke:
“O Achilles, son of Peleus
why run here
when you are a man
and I am a god?
Or can’t you see yet who I am?
Or are you just hell bent hot and crazy?
Or doesn’t it matter at all—
the toil of Troy
the ones you have scattered
those who ran frightened
into the city—
they ran there from you
while you ran here to me—
but to kill me,
that won’t come—
for I am not among the doomed,
my fate is not to die.”
And Achilles swift-footed
he spoke filled with anger:
“You’ve screwed me, Apollo,
you biggest headfucker of all the gods,
you turned me here now
from the tall city wall
and those many men
who could have been dusted
before they slunk back home to Troy—
you took all my glory
by helping them
without any care of your own,
since nothing comes back to bite you—
and I swear if I could
I would visit you with vengeance
if that was the force I possessed.”
So spoke he
and he went he
off toward the city
thinking great thoughts
and running
like a race horse
with a chariot
that can open up
a stretch of field
with ease,
and thus went Achilles
of the swift feet
and the strong