He bent to drink the somber blood and then he spoke:
“Great Captain, a fair wind and the honey lights of home
are all you seek. But anguish lies ahead;
the god who thunders on the land prepares it,
not to be shaken from your track, implacable,
in rancor for the son whose eye you blinded.
One narrow strait may take you through his blows:
denial of yourself, restraint of your shipmates.
When you make landfall on Thrinakia first
and quit the violet sea, dark on the land
you’ll find the grazing herd of Helios
by whom all things are seen, all speech is known.”