Crimson shades that hang on late on cloudy mornings, cormorants that carry tidings from afar reeds that roll over slow in their measured nuances: wind roars, noon bells, distant shorelights at night. I sought glory with love in my heart Midas-like, glory became my gold. Every wave carries a new meaning for one who sees life from the window of death; How many deaths for honour, how many for glory, how many more for perfidy? Ah blessed love, that - when the glitter of glories descends into quicksands of darkness - from whom nothing can ever be snatched away, the one love that shone before my birth as Athene, who I loved as Penelope and who loves me as Calypso, receptacle of worlds!
Odysseus muses as he is imprisoned on Ogygia in this (my) new take at the classical Greek hero who embodies triumph over epic tragedies...