theocritus cyclops

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Trustees of Boston University

Cyclops (Theocritus 11)Author(s): Diane Arnson SvarlienReviewed work(s):Source: Arion, Third Series, Vol. 5, No. 1 (Spring - Summer, 1997), pp. 161-163Published by: Trustees of Boston UniversityStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/20163661 .Accessed: 28/08/2012 09:45

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Cyclops (Theocritus 11)

There's no drug, Nicias, to cure desire: no

Hot compress, powder, ointment, or suspension

Except for song: a sweet alleviation,

But not so easy, sometimes. You should know.

You're a doctor; and, what's more, the nine

Muses love you, better than they love most.

So itwas that back in Sicily long agoThe Cyclops Polyphemus made the best of it

When he began to desire Galatea,When the first soft-sprouting hair began to grow

Along his jaw and above his upper lip.

His desire eclipsed convention; there was no

Sending apples, or roses,or exchanging locks

Of hair, none of the usual things. He wasTruly insane, could think of nothing else.

He often sat alone, awake at dawn

Among the piles of seaweed by the shore;

Melting with desire he sang to her,

Leaving his sheep to find their own way home.

Wounded deep, the barb beneath his heart

Of Aphrodite's arrow, he found this medicine:From the high cliffs staring out to sea

He sang this song:

"White Galatea, whiter than cottage cheese,

Why cast away the one who loves you?

Softer than lamb's wool, springier than the knees

Of a newborn calf, bright as an unripe grape,

Why come near when sweet sleep holds me still

Then disappear when sweet sleep lets me go?Iwake to see you bolting up the hill

Like thesheep

who saw thegray

wolf.

I loved you instantly, the day you came

With my mother to gather hyacinths on the mountain.


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