Category: Songs and Parodies

by Todd Herges

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From the Ninth Book of Homer’s Odyssey         

(Lines 101-112, as translated by J. W. MACKAIL, c. 1905)                                                           

 

Then for a while, as long as morn was grey,            

And through the increase of the sacred day,             

Against them, though they far outnumbered us,       

We held our ground and kept in our array.               

 

But at the hour of the descending sun,                      

When from the plough the oxen are undone,            

Back the Ciconians drove the Achaean host             

And broke them, that escape we hardly won            

 

From death and doom:  but of my mail-clad host     

Six from each ship lay dead upon the coast.             

Thence we sailed on, escaping glad from death,       

Yet heart-sore for the comrades we had lost.            

                                                                                

 

Homer in the Ninth

 

Then for a while, as they in travel gray,

And through the weather of the autumn day,

Against them, though their fan base outsized ours,

We held our ground and kept L.A. at bay.

 

Long past the hour of the descending sun,

When from the beer the vendors are undone,

Back the Angelenos drove Manuel’s men

And broke them, that escape we hand’ly won

 

From season’s end:  beat’n by the red-clad host

The Dodger team lay dead upon our coast.

Thence we moved on, escaping glad from death,

Yet thankful Ryan Howard gives his most.

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Posted 10/22/2009