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Sincerity

You only can get it from sincerity.

poem by Michael Kavuoti
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Sincerity

(l. stansfield/i. devaney/ a. morris)
Spoken:
People say they care, but when it come down to it
Do they have what Im singing for
Lets sing it for
Sincerity
Sincerity
People, rushin round in their lonely lives
Theyd like to care for others, but frankly,
They dont have the time
cause theyre always doin the things
They have to do so theyll be alright
Their always lookin out for their own side
People think theyve got priorities right
Chorus:
Sincerity
The road we need to travel for a better way of life
Sincerity
An attitude we need to take if we want to survive
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
Heartaches, everybody now and then
Theyre cryin out for others,
To listen to them like a friend
But were always sayin we dont have the time
But we really sympathize, maybe another time
Dont think about tomorrow
Do it while youve got the chance
Chorus
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
Come on give me (come on) sincerity
But were always sayin we dont have the time
We really sympathize, well, maybe another time
Dont think about tomorrow
Do it while youve got the chance
Chorus

song performed by Lisa Stansfield
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Yesterday When I Was Mad (Hot Tracks)

Darling, you were wonderful, you really were quite good
I enjoyed that, though, of course, no one understood
A word of what was going on, they didn't have a clue
They couldn't understand your sense of humour like I do
You're much too kind
I smiled with murder on my mind
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
You have a certain quality, which really is unique
Expressionless, such irony, although your voice is weak
It doesn't really matter 'cause the music is so loud
Of course it's all on tape, but no one will find out
You hated me too
But not as much as I hated you
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
Then, when I was lonely
I thought again
And changed my mind
Then we posed for pictures with the competition winners
And argued about the hotel rooms, and where to go for dinner
And someone said: "It's fabulous you're still around today,
You've both made such a little go a very long way"
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
Yesterday, when I was mad
And quite prepared to give up everything
Admitting, I don't believe
In anyone's sincerity, and that's what's really got to me
Then, when I was lonely
I thought again
And changed my mind

song performed by Pet Shop Boys
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Sincerity Prayer

Hours rush by
But the day no end
Darkness swift in
But nights not goin'
Remember this call of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

Chariots of bloody fame
Behind the silhouettes
Of merciless vampires
Rush past.
Remember this cry of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

Swords dripping with red
Hot blood held
Behind the name of Holly
In white garments in no shame
Remember this beg of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

Wondering in wilderness
Shivering in the night deserts
Stranded in wavy beaches
But no place to take the cry?
Remember this prayer of sincerity

Whatever it is in heaven
We call 'pon thee Lord
Give us way, and of righteous
Subtlety bind us to thine road

poem by Buyunde Acura Sylivester
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Love Me (Villanelle)

Love me with sincerity,
with the true feelings in your heart
in times of loss and of prosperity

while our influence linger into posterity
and may our lives never part.
Love me with t sincerity,

as if our words and deeds are more than surety
in truthfulness that is something of an art
in times of loss and of prosperity

and when we are old without any dexterity
may our feelings then last and never depart.
Love me with sincerity

that brings feelings to a kind of clarity,
that daily anew does start
in times of loss and of prosperity.

and may we constantly act in solidarity
as if nothing our affections can thwart.
Love me with sincerity,
in times of loss and of prosperity.

poem by Gert Strydom
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People Have Done This To Themselves

I miss sincerity.
And my friends and family members,
That shared theirs with me...
Who have moved on to other 'realms'.

I miss sincerity.
Too many today are so dishonest.
When someone opens their mouth,
My first reaction is to disbelieve.

People have done this to themselves.

Not to treasure one's integrity,
Is a sign an identity is lost.
And nothing is valued but delusion.

People have done this to themselves.

To express disrespect and receive it,
As if expected...
Is a quality of life lived not uplifted but diminished.

I miss sincerity.
And my friends and family members,
That shared theirs with me...
Who have moved on to other 'realms' of 'this' experience.

I miss sincerity.
Too many today are so dishonest.
When someone opens their mouth,
My first reaction is to disbelieve,
Not one word but every word said.

People have done this to themselves.

To express disrespect and receive it,
As if expected...
Is a quality of life lived not uplifted but diminished.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Sincerity, Honesty and Truthfulness

Sincerity, Honesty and Truthfulness
are three aspects of life,
are the backbone of life
dispensing with these three aspects
life is futile, of no use
dispensing with these three aspects
prospects of life can not be imagined
supreme abode is far away
but, Sincerity, Honesty and Truthfulness
are the initial step of any life
all the creatures of nature
possess this quality with birth right
except the human being
who has to make his own right
to acquire Sincerity, Honesty and Truthfulness
needs full devotion in life.

poem by Ramesh Rai
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When in history, stories and poems I read (Sonnet Corona)

(after William Shakespeare)

I

When in history, stories and poems I read
about the greatest, the most fair persons
with the remarkable lives they did lead,
of knights guarding ladies for some reasons

then in you my lovely darling princess,
I see in everything, even your brow
more beauty than pens of old did express
and in the lovely looks that are yours now

is such exceeding glorious, awesome grace,
that all declarations prefigure you
up to this very moment in time and space,
are just substitutes trying to hold true,

to you the world is waiting as if ready,
arise - walk into my arms, my lady.

II

Arise - walk into my arms, my lady,
rise up my beloved true companion
the hot bright summer sun is already
falling with a love filled emotion

on the pure white leaves of the lilies,
the finches are already twittering
the wind is passing quick like young fillies
and outside the entire world is stirring.

Rise up my sweetest white lovely rose
and awake to the blessed bright morning,
arise from you tranquil kind of repose
and experience the greatness of spring,

of everything that’s good, great and living,
hear the joyous songs, the alluring feeling.

III

Hear the joyous songs, the alluring feeling,
from what is held as a true loveliness,
others have just some features been stealing;
your looks, grace, personality do not digress.

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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Had I Knew Ya!

I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
I would have given you much more respect.
Had I knew ya.

With the best...
Had I knew ya!
Of sincerity one gets.

I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
I would have given you much more respect.
Had I knew ya.

With the best...
Had I knew ya!
Of sincerity one gets.

You can bet...
My foul mouth would be kept,
Under lock and key and silent breath!

You can bet...
Knowing you don't annoy!
You can bet...
Knowing you don't annoy!

I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
I would have given you much more respect.
Had I knew ya.

With the best...
Had I knew ya!
Of sincerity one gets.

Knowing you don't annoy!

I would not had wished you break your neck.
Had I knew ya!
You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
Knowing you don't annoy!

You can bet...
Had I knew ya!
Knowing you don't annoy!

You can bet...
Had I knew ya!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Truth of a modest sort I can promise you, and also sincerity. That complete, praiseworthy sincerity which, while it delivers one into the hands of one's enemies, is as likely as not to embroil one with one's friends.

quote by Joseph Conrad
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Speak of Pain

No pain to give, so pain gives me
Words of truth, of sincerity
As thy speak thy word flow
Into mine soul, into where I don't know?
What pain is, what pain be
Is my truth, my sincerity
As thy speak, mine heart ooze
All mine pain in mine memory
So speak the truth, wert my pain reign
In thy soul, wert truth never lain…
and pain be a word or two
which bonds me in sympathy with you.

poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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It Takes A While To Catch A Thief

It takes a while to catch a thief.
Slick they are in receiving sympathy.
With a sincerity believed,
They would be the last to steal.
They are like plagiarists...
Lifting from another statements made,
With a twisting of words to attract their appeal.

It takes a while to catch a thief.
Slick they are in receiving sympathy.
With a sincerity believed,
They would be the last to steal.
Since no one would perceive them to be,
Lusting for what others have...
With no effort made they've invested to achieve.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Oh Where Oh Where Is Love?

Sung by: the tramp and the do-gooders
In a world full of jive,
Full of homicide and suicide,
Theres no room for love and romance.
In a world full of spite
Full of hatefulness and bitterness,
Sincerity dont stand a chance.
And every night I close my eyes
And ask the stars above,
Oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where is love?
Where is love and romance,
And appreciation of storybooks, fairytales
And the ordinary things people did long ago.
Where did it go?
Where is love?
Where is hope?
Where is sympathy and trust?
Where is faith?
Where is joy in simplicity?
And where is regard and respect?
Oh where, oh where is love?
This world is spinning and turning
And my head is full of learning,
But my thoughts keep on returning
To the things I used to know.
I should be stronger,
But my mind continually wanders
And deep inside
A voice keeps crying
Where, oh where is love?
Where is love and romance,
And appreciation of storybooks, fairytales,
And the ordinary things people did long ago?
Where did it go?
In a world full of jive,
Full of homicide and suicide,
Theres no room for love and romance.
In a world full of rape,
Full of hatefulness and bitterness,
Sincerity dont stand a chance.
And every night I close my eyes
And ask the stars above,
Oh where, oh where, oh where, oh where is love?
Where oh where is love?
Where is love?
Where is hope?
Where is sympathy and trust?
Where is faith?
Where is joy and simplicity
And where is regard and respect?

[...] Read more

song performed by Kinks
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I Saw It Myself (Short Verse Drama)

Dramatis Personae: Adrian, his wife Ester, his sisters Rebecca and Johanna, his mother Elizabeth, the high priest Chiapas, the disciple Simon Peter, the disciple John, Mary Magdalene, worshipers, priests, two angels and Jesus Christ.

Act I

Scene I.- Adrian’s house in Jerusalem. Adrian has just returned home after a business journey in Galilee, in time to attend the Passover feast. He sits at the table with his wife Ester and his sisters, Rebecca and Johanna. It’s just before sunset on the Friday afternoon.

Adrian. (Somewhat puzzled) Strange things are happening,
some say demons dwell upon the earth,
others angelic beings, miracles take place
and all of this when they had put a man to death,
had crucified a criminal. Everybody knows
the cross is used for degenerates only!

Rebecca. (With a pleasant voice) Such harsh words used,
for a good, a great man brother?
They say that without charge
he healed the sick, brought back sight,
cured leprosy, even made some more food,
from a few fishes and loafs of bread…

Adrian. (Somewhat harsh) They say many things!
That he rode into Jerusalem
to be crowned as the new king,
was a rebel against the state,
even claimed to be
the very Son of God,
now that is blasphemy
if there is no truth to it!

Johanna. I met him once.
He’s not the man
that you make him, brother.
There was a strange tranquilly to Him.
Some would say a divine presence,
while He spoke of love that is selfless,
visited the sick, the poor
and even the destitute, even harlots.

Adrian. (Looks up) There you have it!
Harlots! Tax collecting thieves!
A man is know by his friends,
or so they say and probably
there is some truth to it.

Ester. Husband, do not be so quick to judge.
I have seen Him myself, have seen
Roman soldiers marching Him to the hill
to take His life, with a angry crowd
following and mocking Him.

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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If Ever That Which Is Between Us Dies

If that which is between us which is holy
shivers and dies and with me you are through
there is one thing, that I beg which only
I am asking, in sincerity of you

that about our bliss, our trust and about us
to no one you give any kind of absolution
and talk about many others if you must
but on me do not take this retribution.

Keep that which is between you and me
to yourself, as something not to be said
and give to my sincerity some dignity
if our lives go separately ahead,

let there be sanctity that our feelings retain,
which you do not to a lover have to explain.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Volume 1: 1931-1934

"Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the enjoyment of sweet foods, who practiced silence, who humiliated her pride, who adored symbols, statues, burning candles, incense, the caress of nuns, organ music, for whom Communion was a great event? I was so exalted by the idea of eating Jesus's flesh and drinking His blood that I couldn't swallow the host well, and I dreaded harming the it. I visualized Christ descending into my heart so realistically (I was a realist then!) that I could see Him walking down the stairs and entering the room of my heart like a sacred Visitor. That state of this room was a subject of great preoccupation for me. . . At the ages of nine, ten, eleven, I believe I approximated sainthood. And then, at sixteen, resentful of controls, disillusioned with a God who had not granted my prayers (the return of my father), who performed no miracles, who left me fatherless in a strange country, I rejected all Catholicism with exaggeration. Goodness, virtue, charity, submission, stifled me. I took up the words of Lawrence: "They stress only pain, sacrifice, suffering and death. They do not dwell enough on the resurrection, on joy and life in the present." Today I feel my past like an unbearable weight, I feel that it interferes with my present life, that it must be the cause for this withdrawal, this closing of doors. . . I am embalmed because a nun leaned over me, enveloped me in her veils, kissed me. The chill curse of Christianity. I do not confess any more, I have no remorse, yet am I doing penance for my enjoyments? Nobody knows what a magnificent prey I was for Christian legends, because of my compassion and my tenderness for human beings. Today it divides me from enjoyment in life."
p. 70-71

"As June walked towards me from the darkness of the garden into the light of the door, I saw for the first time the most beautiful woman on earth. A startling white face, burning dark eyes, a face so alive I felt it would consume itself before my eyes. Years ago I tried to imagine true beauty; I created in my mind an image of just such a woman. I had never seen her until last night. Yet I knew long ago the phosphorescent color of her skin, her huntress profile, the evenness of her teeth. She is bizarre, fantastic, nervous, like someone in a high fever. Her beauty drowned me. As I sat before her, I felt I would do anything she asked of me. Henry suddenly faded. She was color and brilliance and strangeness. By the end of the evening I had extricated myself from her power. She killed my admiration by her talk. Her talk. The enormous ego, false, weak, posturing. She lacks the courage of her personality, which is sensual, heavy with experience. Her role alone preoccupies her. She invents dramas in which she always stars. I am sure she creates genuine dramas, genuine chaos and whirlpools of feelings, but I feel that her share in it is a pose. That night, in spite of my response to her, she sought to be whatever she felt I wanted her to be. She is an actress every moment. I cannot grasp the core of June. Everything Henry has said about her is true."

I wanted to run out and kiss her fanatastic beauty and say: 'June, you have killed my sincerity too. I will never know again who I am, what I am, what I love, what I want. Your beauty has drowned me, the core of me. You carry away with you a part of me reflected in you. When your beauty struck me, it dissolved me. Deep down, I am not different from you. I dreamed you, I wished for your existance. You are the woman I want to be. I see in you that part of me which is you. I feel compassion for your childlike pride, for your trembling unsureness, your dramatization of events, your enhancing of the loves given to you. I surrender my sincerity because if I love you it means we share the same fantasies, the same madnesses"

poem by Anaïs Nin
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To You Whom I Love More Than Myself (Sonnet Redoublé)

I

You to whom my feelings are obvious,
may God guide you
(even if I am being presumptuous)
through every day, keeping you true,

in everything grant all that’s good,
make you sure
in every day, temper every mood
great and pure

and may He be in everything
that you put your hand to,
giving His greatest blessing,
may you be excelling in all that you do;

once I saw you jolly and free,
I saw you long-legged wading into the sea

II

I saw you long-legged wading into the sea
the epitome of youthfulness,
with no frivolity
and you were deadly serious without meekness

entering as if approaching a holy living thing
leaving the shallows you were going in deep
and it was if you were searching for something,
something from the deep beyond that you could keep

and not going to plunder, but were hunting for a holy relic
something with great wonder,
not to hang around your neck like a charm or some garlic
not made by man, or from the elements like thunder:

I watched you searching for something beyond man’s affairs,
from our lounge chairs.

III

From our lounge chairs
across from the fireplace
there was passion on your face
and it was sweet sincerity without putting on airs

where we were living out our lives, our own affairs
with depth and sweetness in every embrace
with love and true grace

[...] Read more

poem by Gert Strydom
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A love to live

“I am prepared and ready to leave”
Wife was in rage which I couldn’t believe?
Who can help me to get relieved?
Why do you all stand together and connive?

It all started with fun fare
I was ready to lead her anywhere
I chose her to be as my better half
did that prove as simple joke or matter of laugh?

I did earnestly what I was supposed to do
I too expected her to fall through
We were to be one and remain in all our drive
We were to make it heaven and live

I swore in the name of God
With all sincerity and high hopes rode
Let destiny may prove my sincerity
Life was to be made worth of good quality’

No one may notice what we really achieved?
They will only observe and note how much we missed?
It is altogether not our concern to think
As we had vowed to swim together and sink

I shall worry about better tomorrow
Fall in line with her and good steps to allow
Hand in hand with full confidence to walk along
Never to find faults even if one was right or wrong

I strove very hard to accommodate her
Taking all steps for storms to wither
Bridging gap all the times and creating confidence
Clearing all lines with drawing correct inference

We may come to be known as ideal couple or pair
Not always playing music around the chair
Something more to make it worthy and worthwhile
I shall continue to look for good and live in peace meanwhile

It is how two wheels of vehicle move together
Let there be strong criticism but not to bother
Sun may shine one day and add to glory or feather
It is how we take it person in stride or honor

We have pledged to honor bond till the end
We shall remain not foe but always as friend
It will always be ruling from our side to fall
To the wishes of each other and lovingly call

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Good morning Boss

Day spoils if start is not at all good
We can do away with no good food
But certainly not with bad start
You may wear gloomy face and feel bad heart

It is said “whose beginning then his day too will be bad”
He may find it difficult with brother. Mummy or even with dad
There may take place unusual things to disturb whole day
You may loose patience and find no other good way

In office day starts with “'good morning” to boss
you got to always yes and never no even at some personal loss,
He is the one person in office who is always in tension,
You can’t expect any thing bad worth to mention,

I always take steps for its prevention,
I never ask or raise any question,
Simply fall in line with him ready to go with his words
try to show the sincerity and keenness in special work

I or for that matter no one can afford to loose his grace
Loosing favor means you won’t have any trace
All odds against you and problems to face,
Why simply to enter then unnecessary race?

Try to be near him but not so close,
Butter daily with kind words and offer rose,
Stand by with him in the time of need
Never show bad gesture and prove your worth in deed

it is hard time to show sincerity and prove best class
Hide the discomfiture and feelings under dark glass,
don’t try to create any flutter and allow the day to pass,
Allow his name to be seen plate with shining in brass

If you ever happen to fall out of grace
Ready yourself to challenge and face,
Offer very good smile and use kind words,
Remain obedient and sincere as you remain with lords

After all he is bread provider and boss
We can’t afford to alienate him at any cost
Our relation may at any time go frost
But it is not the end of the day or love lost

Try to reason out your obedience
Prove that office is at par excellence
It is only because of his brilliance
Office has got reputation only by his presence

[...] Read more

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Ideal couple

Am I ready to leave?
Can I not believe?
Who can help me to be relieved?
Why do I stand as connived?

It all started with fun fare
I was ready to lead here anywhere
I chose her to be my better half
Was that joke or simple laugh?

I did what I was supposed to
I expected her to fall through
We were to be one in all our drive
We were to make it heaven and live

I swore in the name of God
With all sincerity and high hopes rode
Let destiny prove my sincerity
Life was to be made of good quality’

No one may notice what we achieved?
They will only observe how much we missed?
It is altogether not our concern to think
We may vow to swim together and sink

I shall worry about better tomorrow
Fall in line with and good steps to allow
Hand in hand with confidence to walk along
Not to find faults even if one is wrong

Strive very hard to reach out for each other
Taking all steps for storms to wither
Bridging gap and creating confidence
Clear lines with drawing inference

We may come to be known as ideal pair
Not playing only music around the chair
Something more to make it worthy and worthwhile
Continue to look for good and live in peace meanwhile

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Iliad (bk I)

Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Many a brave soul did it send hurrying down to Hades, and many a hero did it yield a prey to dogs and vultures, for so were the counsels of Jove fulfilled from the day on which the son of Atreus, king of men, and great Achilles, first fell out with one another.

And which of the gods was it that set them on to quarrel? It was the son of Jove and Leto; for he was angry with the king and sent a pestilence upon the host to plague the people, because the son of Atreus had dishonoured Chryses his priest. Now Chryses had come to the ships of the Achaeans to free his daughter, and had brought with him a great ransom: moreover he bore in his hand the sceptre of Apollo wreathed with a suppliant's wreath and he besought the Achaeans, but most of all the two sons of Atreus, who were their chiefs.

"Sons of Atreus," he cried, "and all other Achaeans, may the gods who dwell in Olympus grant you to sack the city of Priam, and to reach your homes in safety; but free my daughter, and accept a ransom for her, in reverence to Apollo, son of Jove."

On this the rest of the Achaeans with one voice were for respecting the priest and taking the ransom that he offered; but not so Agamemnon, who spoke fiercely to him and sent him roughly away. "Old man," said he, "let me not find you tarrying about our ships, nor yet coming hereafter. Your sceptre of the god and your wreath shall profit you nothing. I will not free her. She shall grow old in my house at Argos far from her own home, busying herself with her loom and visiting my couch; so go, and do not provoke me or it shall be the worse for you."

The old man feared him and obeyed. Not a word he spoke, but went by the shore of the sounding sea and prayed apart to King Apollo whom lovely Leto had borne. "Hear me," he cried, "O god of the silver bow, that protectest Chryse and holy Cilla and rulest Tenedos with thy might, hear me oh thou of Sminthe. If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Danaans."

Thus did he pray, and Apollo heard his prayer. He came down furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the ships with a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning.

For nine whole days he shot his arrows among the people, but upon the tenth day Achilles called them in assembly- moved thereto by Juno, who saw the Achaeans in their death-throes and had compassion upon them. Then, when they were got together, he rose and spoke among them.

"Son of Atreus," said he, "I deem that we should now turn roving home if we would escape destruction, for we are being cut down by war and pestilence at once. Let us ask some priest or prophet, or some reader of dreams (for dreams, too, are of Jove) who can tell us why Phoebus Apollo is so angry, and say whether it is for some vow that we have broken, or hecatomb that we have not offered, and whether he will accept the savour of lambs and goats without blemish, so as to take away the plague from us."

With these words he sat down, and Calchas son of Thestor, wisest of augurs, who knew things past present and to come, rose to speak. He it was who had guided the Achaeans with their fleet to Ilius, through the prophesyings with which Phoebus Apollo had inspired him. With all sincerity and goodwill he addressed them thus:-

"Achilles, loved of heaven, you bid me tell you about the anger of King Apollo, I will therefore do so; but consider first and swear that you will stand by me heartily in word and deed, for I know that I shall offend one who rules the Argives with might, to whom all the Achaeans are in subjection. A plain man cannot stand against the anger of a king, who if he swallow his displeasure now, will yet nurse revenge till he has wreaked it. Consider, therefore, whether or no you will protect me."

And Achilles answered, "Fear not, but speak as it is borne in upon you from heaven, for by Apollo, Calchas, to whom you pray, and whose oracles you reveal to us, not a Danaan at our ships shall lay his hand upon you, while I yet live to look upon the face of the earth- no, not though you name Agamemnon himself, who is by far the foremost of the Achaeans."

Thereon the seer spoke boldly. "The god," he said, "is angry neither about vow nor hecatomb, but for his priest's sake, whom Agamemnon has dishonoured, in that he would not free his daughter nor take a ransom for her; therefore has he sent these evils upon us, and will yet send others. He will not deliver the Danaans from this pestilence till Agamemnon has restored the girl without fee or ransom to her father, and has sent a holy hecatomb to Chryse. Thus we may perhaps appease him."

With these words he sat down, and Agamemnon rose in anger. His heart was black with rage, and his eyes flashed fire as he scowled on Calchas and said, "Seer of evil, you never yet prophesied smooth things concerning me, but have ever loved to foretell that which was evil. You have brought me neither comfort nor performance; and now you come seeing among Danaans, and saying that Apollo has plagued us because I would not take a ransom for this girl, the daughter of Chryses. I have set my heart on keeping her in my own house, for I love her better even than my own wife Clytemnestra, whose peer she is alike in form and feature, in understanding and accomplishments. Still I will give her up if I must, for I would have the people live, not die; but you must find me a prize instead, or I alone among the Argives shall be without one. This is not well; for you behold, all of you, that my prize is to go elsewhither."

And Achilles answered, "Most noble son of Atreus, covetous beyond all mankind, how shall the Achaeans find you another prize? We have no common store from which to take one. Those we took from the cities have been awarded; we cannot disallow the awards that have been made already. Give this girl, therefore, to the god, and if ever Jove grants us to sack the city of Troy we will requite you three and fourfold."

Then Agamemnon said, "Achilles, valiant though you be, you shall not thus outwit me. You shall not overreach and you shall not persuade me. Are you to keep your own prize, while I sit tamely under my loss and give up the girl at your bidding? Let the Achaeans find me a prize in fair exchange to my liking, or I will come and take your own, or that of Ajax or of Ulysses; and he to whomsoever I may come shall rue my coming. But of this we will take thought hereafter; for the present, let us draw a ship into the sea, and find a crew for her expressly; let us put a hecatomb on board, and let us send Chryseis also; further, let some chief man among us be in command, either Ajax, or Idomeneus, or yourself, son of Peleus, mighty warrior that you are, that we may offer sacrifice and appease the the anger of the god."

Achilles scowled at him and answered, "You are steeped in insolence and lust of gain. With what heart can any of the Achaeans do your bidding, either on foray or in open fighting? I came not warring here for any ill the Trojans had done me. I have no quarrel with them. They have not raided my cattle nor my horses, nor cut down my harvests on the rich plains of Phthia; for between me and them there is a great space, both mountain and sounding sea. We have followed you, Sir Insolence! for your pleasure, not ours- to gain satisfaction from the Trojans for your shameless self and for Menelaus. You forget this, and threaten to rob me of the prize for which I have toiled, and which the sons of the Achaeans have given me. Never when the Achaeans sack any rich city of the Trojans do I receive so good a prize as you do, though it is my hands that do the better part of the fighting. When the sharing comes, your share is far the largest, and I, forsooth, must go back to my ships, take what I can get and be thankful, when my labour of fighting is done. Now, therefore, I shall go back to Phthia; it will be much better for me to return home with my ships, for I will not stay here dishonoured to gather gold and substance for you."

And Agamemnon answered, "Fly if you will, I shall make you no prayers to stay you. I have others here who will do me honour, and above all Jove, the lord of counsel. There is no king here so hateful to me as you are, for you are ever quarrelsome and ill affected. What though you be brave? Was it not heaven that made you so? Go home, then, with your ships and comrades to lord it over the Myrmidons. I care neither for you nor for your anger; and thus will I do: since Phoebus Apollo is taking Chryseis from me, I shall send her with my ship and my followers, but I shall come to your tent and take your own prize Briseis, that you may learn how much stronger I am than you are, and that another may fear to set himself up as equal or comparable with me."

The son of Peleus was furious, and his heart within his shaggy breast was divided whether to draw his sword, push the others aside, and kill the son of Atreus, or to restrain himself and check his anger. While he was thus in two minds, and was drawing his mighty sword from its scabbard, Minerva came down from heaven (for Juno had sent her in the love she bore to them both), and seized the son of Peleus by his yellow hair, visible to him alone, for of the others no man could see her. Achilles turned in amaze, and by the fire that flashed from her eyes at once knew that she was Minerva. "Why are you here," said he, "daughter of aegis-bearing Jove? To see the pride of Agamemnon, son of Atreus? Let me tell you- and it shall surely be- he shall pay for this insolence with his life."

And Minerva said, "I come from heaven, if you will hear me, to bid you stay your anger. Juno has sent me, who cares for both of you alike. Cease, then, this brawling, and do not draw your sword; rail at him if you will, and your railing will not be vain, for I tell you- and it shall surely be- that you shall hereafter receive gifts three times as splendid by reason of this present insult. Hold, therefore, and obey."

"Goddess," answered Achilles, "however angry a man may be, he must do as you two command him. This will be best, for the gods ever hear the prayers of him who has obeyed them."

He stayed his hand on the silver hilt of his sword, and thrust it back into the scabbard as Minerva bade him. Then she went back to Olympus among the other gods, and to the house of aegis-bearing Jove.

But the son of Peleus again began railing at the son of Atreus, for he was still in a rage. "Wine-bibber," he cried, "with the face of a dog and the heart of a hind, you never dare to go out with the host in fight, nor yet with our chosen men in ambuscade. You shun this as you do death itself. You had rather go round and rob his prizes from any man who contradicts you. You devour your people, for you are king over a feeble folk; otherwise, son of Atreus, henceforward you would insult no man. Therefore I say, and swear it with a great oath- nay, by this my sceptre which shalt sprout neither leaf nor shoot, nor bud anew from the day on which it left its parent stem upon the mountains- for the axe stripped it of leaf and bark, and now the sons of the Achaeans bear it as judges and guardians of the decrees of heaven- so surely and solemnly do I swear that hereafter they shall look fondly for Achilles and shall not find him. In the day of your distress, when your men fall dying by the murderous hand of Hector, you shall not know how to help them, and shall rend your heart with rage for the hour when you offered insult to the bravest of the Achaeans."

With this the son of Peleus dashed his gold-bestudded sceptre on the ground and took his seat, while the son of Atreus was beginning fiercely from his place upon the other side. Then uprose smooth-tongued Nestor, the facile speaker of the Pylians, and the words fell from his lips sweeter than honey. Two generations of men born and bred in Pylos had passed away under his rule, and he was now reigning over the third. With all sincerity and goodwill, therefore, he addressed them thus:-

"Of a truth," he said, "a great sorrow has befallen the Achaean land. Surely Priam with his sons would rejoice, and the Trojans be glad at heart if they could hear this quarrel between you two, who are so excellent in fight and counsel. I am older than either of you; therefore be guided by me. Moreover I have been the familiar friend of men even greater than you are, and they did not disregard my counsels. Never again can I behold such men as Pirithous and Dryas shepherd of his people, or as Caeneus, Exadius, godlike Polyphemus, and Theseus son of Aegeus, peer of the immortals. These were the mightiest men ever born upon this earth: mightiest were they, and when they fought the fiercest tribes of mountain savages they utterly overthrew them. I came from distant Pylos, and went about among them, for they would have me come, and I fought as it was in me to do. Not a man now living could withstand them, but they heard my words, and were persuaded by them. So be it also with yourselves, for this is the more excellent way. Therefore, Agamemnon, though you be strong, take not this girl away, for the sons of the Achaeans have already given her to Achilles; and you, Achilles, strive not further with the king, for no man who by the grace of Jove wields a sceptre has like honour with Agamemnon. You are strong, and have a goddess for your mother; but Agamemnon is stronger than you, for he has more people under him. Son of Atreus, check your anger, I implore you; end this quarrel with Achilles, who in the day of battle is a tower of strength to the Achaeans."

And Agamemnon answered, "Sir, all that you have said is true, but this fellow must needs become our lord and master: he must be lord of all, king of all, and captain of all, and this shall hardly be. Granted that the gods have made him a great warrior, have they also given him the right to speak with railing?"

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poem by Homer
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