“My mother answered, ‘She stays firm. Her heart

is strong. She is still in your house. And all

her nights are passed in misery, and days

in tears. But no one has usurped your throne.

Telemachus still tends the whole estate

unharmed and feasts in style, as lords should do,

and he is always asked to council meetings.

Your father stays out in the countryside.

He will not come to town. He does not sleep

on a real bed with blankets and fresh sheets.

In winter he sleeps inside, by the fire,

just lying in the ashes with the slaves;

his clothes are rags. In summer and at harvest,

the piles of fallen leaves are beds for him.

He lies there grieving, full of sorrow, longing

for your return. His old age is not easy.

And that is why I met my fate and died.

The goddess did not shoot me in my home,

aiming with gentle arrows. Nor did sickness

suck all the strength out from my limbs, with long

and cruel wasting. No, it was missing you,

Odysseus, my sunshine; your sharp mind,

and your kind heart. That took sweet life from me.’

Then in my heart I wanted to embrace

the spirit of my mother. She was dead,

and I did not know how.”

- from Book 11 of the Odyssey, “The Dead”

Elpenor speaking to Odysseus in Hades

From Book 11 of the Odyssey, “The Dead”