To Odysseus

Penelope, patient wife
Waited twenty years, twenty years
For you amidst all that strife
Penelope, patient wife

Telemachus, ardent son
Athena’s mission in your head
By your hand your father won
Telemachus, ardent son

Odysseus, Odysseus
How does it feel to wander?
This way and that, do I know?
Odysseus, Odysseus
Right this vessel, steer my course
For my Penelope
For the Telemachus yet to come

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