Euryclee 1

Euryclee , the Royal treasure keeper, wet nurse to Telemachus, slave

Oh, my poor mistress
How much more suffering
Is added to your daily load 
You may not know it 
But Telemachus came to visit me
In the deep cellars under the palace
He told me in confidence
Of his upcoming trip to Pylos
Where Nestor resides in his old age
He asked for the sweetest wine,
Enough flour for the trip to be bagged
When he asked me not to reveal the truth
Even to you his mother
My heart broke down
And I couldn't stop salty tears
Rolling down my wrinkled cheeks
I couldn't but remember the tiny baby
Suckling at my breast with my own child
His tantrums, his tears, his cries
When I wouldn't let him play 
With the weapons his father left behind 
He is only a young man
Not a warrior trained like the divine Odysseus 
Was when he left our shores 
How cruel are the fates to us !
What are we to do without any man
To protect us, oh my dear Queen,
And I have promised him to keep silent
For twelve long days
How is she not to despair, I know not
He told me he was acting 
Upon the word of a god
I wish it so
But the gods are so fickle
They have their own reasons
He made me swear on the gods 
But My heart is heavy
And  My soul is troubled.

Lucette C. Bailliet
All rights reserved 

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