For school I've been reading the Iliad this quarter. What a magnificent epic tale! Never did I imagine it to be so vivid and alive. I'd always heard how hard it was to get through, but never once have I wished to put it down myself.
Unluckily for me (and for you, as well!), I was asked to write a "10-15 line poem using at least two Homeric-type similes." Oh dear. I can tell you now, I've tried my hand at poetry before and never has it turned out well.
Here is what I have so far. I'm afraid I'm probably going to have to scrap this though, because it would definitely end up becoming at the very least a 30-50 line poem if I pursue it. Which may seem strange to you, as I just said I've never been good at writing poetry, but you see, the tale of Cyrus is long and filled with interesting details, and I'd want to fit it all in.
Sing, goddess, the valor of Cyrus the Greater,
Who in times long passed ruled magnificent among the Persians.
Even before his birth magnificent Cyrus’ doom was imminent,
As Asyages the lance-hurler, his grandfather
And last of the rulers of the mighty Median Empire,
Who by a dream learned of his own downfall,
Was plotting his pending doom.
For in the darkness of the night, as a thief
Steals into a chamber with evil in his mind,
A dream of prophecy slipped into the bedchamber of Asyages,
To stand by his bedside and whisper of his end.
As you can see, I have not mastered the dactylic hexameter yet. All those "feet" "ancepts" "spondees" and "- U | - U | - U | - U | - u u | - -" things make my head spin!
LATER
The finished project:
Stars sparkle up above, shimmering like diamonds
In the glistering pond down below.
The flowers gently close their petals. Wet with dew,
They glitter in the dusk like jewels.
Like the gentle murmur of a sleeping child
As he rests serene against his mother's bosom,
The warm wind whispers softly by,
Sways the branches of the ancient trees above.
Fluttering by on the wings of darkness,
She murmurs her secrets to the bending grasses.
High above, the moon, mild and wise as the magi,
Looks tenderly down on his children below,
Shining his lantern upon their lonesome paths.
Silence profound swathes the night in its myriad folds,
Like a cloak shrouds the lone figure of a sleepy traveler,
As he makes his way wearily home.
Definitely not very well written, neither is it written in dactylic hexameter. But I found out this afternoon that I did not, in fact, need to write in dactylic hexameter (apparently, this comes later! =/), but instead must simply use Homeric-type similes. I'm afraid my wimpy similes ("Silence profound swathes the night in its myriad folds, as a cloak shrouds the lone figure of a sleepy traveler, as he makes his way wearily home.") fall far short of Homer's magnificent, vivid descriptions (" ...the Trojans came with cries and the din of war like wildfowl when the long hoarse cries of cranes sweep on against the sky and the great formations flee from the winters grim ungodly storm...").
I thought perhaps of writing of a mighty storm:
The wind beats heavily against the mighty mountain,
As the thunderous beat of the booming drums of war.
And the mighty roar of the sea sounds as the lion’s angry yell
He the king of the lush green forests of
As it crashes upon the shore in almighty waves.
Up above, the clouds heavy with rain
Cast their shadow upon the dew glistened grasses
And the sand covered coast.
But in the end a more peaceful scene won over. What do you think? I believe it would have been less difficult to think of vivid similes if I were to write of a storm, but somehow "shimmering dewdrops" and "shrouds of silence" better suited my feelings.
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