a moleskine

Henri Lehmann, Calypso, 1869
"A great fire blazed on the hearth and the smell of cedar cleanly split and sweetwood burning bright wafted a cloud of fragrance down the island. Deep inside she sang, the goddess Calypso, lifting her breathtaking voice as she glided back and forth before her loom, her golden shuttle weaving. Thick luxurious woods grew round the cave, alders and black poplars, pungent cypress too, and there birds roosted, folding their long wings, owls and hawks and the spread-beaked ravens of the sea, black skimmers who make their living off the waves. And round the mouth of the cavern trailed a vine laden with clusters, bursting with ripe grapes. Four springs in a row, bubbling clear and cold, running side-by-side, took channels left and right. Soft meadows spreading round were starred with violets, lush with beds of parsley.
…’Ah great goddess,’ worldly Odysseus answered, ‘don’t be angry with me, please…I long—I pine, all my days—to travel home and see the dawn of my return. And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wind-dark sea, I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total—bring the trial on!
Even as he spoke the sun set and the darkness swept the earth. And now, withdrawing into the cavern’s deep recesses, long in each other’s arms they lost themselves in love.” —Homer, The Odyssey (trans. Robert Fagles, Penguin, pp. 156, 159)

Henri Lehmann, Calypso, 1869

"A great fire blazed on the hearth and the smell of cedar cleanly split and sweetwood burning bright wafted a cloud of fragrance down the island. Deep inside she sang, the goddess Calypso, lifting her breathtaking voice as she glided back and forth before her loom, her golden shuttle weaving. Thick luxurious woods grew round the cave, alders and black poplars, pungent cypress too, and there birds roosted, folding their long wings, owls and hawks and the spread-beaked ravens of the sea, black skimmers who make their living off the waves. And round the mouth of the cavern trailed a vine laden with clusters, bursting with ripe grapes. Four springs in a row, bubbling clear and cold, running side-by-side, took channels left and right. Soft meadows spreading round were starred with violets, lush with beds of parsley.

…’Ah great goddess,’ worldly Odysseus answered, ‘don’t be angry with me, please…I long—I pine, all my days—to travel home and see the dawn of my return. And if a god will wreck me yet again on the wind-dark sea, I can bear that too, with a spirit tempered to endure. Much have I suffered, labored long and hard by now in the waves and wars. Add this to the total—bring the trial on!

Even as he spoke the sun set and the darkness swept the earth. And now, withdrawing into the cavern’s deep recesses, long in each other’s arms they lost themselves in love.”
—Homer, The Odyssey (trans. Robert Fagles, Penguin, pp. 156, 159)

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