Translators and scholars have translated the main works attributed to Homer,  the Iliad and Odyssey, from the Homeric Greek into English since the 16th and 17th centuries. Translations are ordered chronologically by date of first publication, with first lines provided to illustrate the style of the translation.
 Not all translators translated both the Iliad and Odyssey; in addition to the complete translations listed here, numerous partial translations, ranging from several lines to complete books, have appeared in a variety of publications.
 The "original" text cited below is that of "the Oxford Homer."
 Ancient Greek: 
μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος
οὐλομένην, ἣ μυρί᾽ Ἀχαιοῖς ἄλγε᾽ ἔθηκε,
πολλὰς δ᾽ ἰφθίμους ψυχὰς Ἄϊδι προΐαψεν
ἡρώων, αὐτοὺς δὲ ἑλώρια τεῦχε κύνεσσιν
οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι, Διὸς δ᾽ ἐτελείετο βουλή,
ἐξ οὗ δὴ τὰ πρῶτα διαστήτην ἐρίσαντε
Ἀτρεΐδης τε ἄναξ ἀνδρῶν καὶ δῖος Ἀχιλλεύς.
—

τίς τ᾽ ἄρ σφωε θεῶν ἔριδι ξυνέηκε μάχεσθαι;
Λητοῦς καὶ Διὸς υἱός: ὃ γὰρ βασιλῆϊ χολωθεὶς
νοῦσον ἀνὰ στρατὸν ὄρσε κακήν, ὀλέκοντο δὲ λαοί,
οὕνεκα τὸν Χρύσην ἠτίμασεν ἀρητῆρα
Ἀτρεΐδης: ὃ γὰρ ἦλθε θοὰς ἐπὶ νῆας Ἀχαιῶν
λυσόμενός τε θύγατρα φέρων τ᾽ ἀπερείσι᾽ ἄποινα,
στέμματ᾽ ἔχων ἐν χερσὶν ἑκηβόλου Ἀπόλλωνος
χρυσέῳ ἀνὰ σκήπτρῳ, καὶ λίσσετο πάντας Ἀχαιούς,
Ἀτρεΐδα δὲ μάλιστα δύω, κοσμήτορε λαῶν:
Ἀτρεΐδαι τε καὶ ἄλλοι ἐϋκνήμιδες Ἀχαιοί,
ὑμῖν μὲν θεοὶ δοῖεν Ὀλύμπια δώματ᾽ ἔχοντες
ἐκπέρσαι Πριάμοιο πόλιν, εὖ δ᾽ οἴκαδ᾽ ἱκέσθαι:
παῖδα δ᾽ ἐμοὶ λύσαιτε φίλην, τὰ δ᾽ ἄποινα δέχεσθαι,
ἁζόμενοι Διὸς υἱὸν ἑκηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα.
 Romanization:
 mēnin aeide thea Pēlēiadeō Achilēos
oulomenēn, hē myri' Achaiois alge' ethēke,
pollas d' iphthimous psychas Aidi proiapsen
hērōōn, autous de helōria teuche kynessin
oiōnoisi te pasi, Dios d' eteleieto boulē,
ex hou dē ta prōta diastētēn erisante
Atreidēs te anax andrōn kai dios Achilleus.
—

tis t' ar sphōe theōn eridi xyneēke machesthai?
Lētous kai Dios huios: ho gar basilēi cholōtheis
nouson ana straton orse kakēn, olekonto de laoi,
houneka ton Chrysēn ētimasen arētēra
Atreidēs: ho gar ēlthe thoas epi nēas Achaiōn
lysomenos te thygatra pherōn t' apereisi' apoina,
stemmat' echōn en chersin hekēbolou Apollōnos
chryseō ana skēptrō, kai lisseto pantas Achaious,
Atreida de malista dyō, kosmētore laōn:
Atreidai te kai alloi euknēmides Achaioi,
hymin men theoi doien Olympia dōmat' echontes
ekpersai Priamoio polin, eu d' oikad' hikesthai:
paida d' emoi lysaite philēn, ta d' apoina dechesthai,
hazomenoi Dios huion hekēbolon Apollōna.
  I Thee beseech, O Goddesse milde, the hatefull hate to plaine,
Whereby Achilles was so wroong, and grewe in suche disdaine,
 Achilles' banefull wrath resound, O Goddesse, that imposd
Infinite sorrowes on the Greekes, and many brave soules losd
 Achilles son of Peleus Goddes sing,
His baneful wrath which to the Greeks did bring
Unnumbred greifs, brave souls to hel did send
 Achilles Peleus Son's destructive Rage,
Great Goddess, sing, which did the Greeks engage
 O Goddess sing what woe the discontent
Of Thetis' son brought to the Greeks; what souls
Of heroes down to Erebus it sent,
 The Wrath of Peleus Son, O Muse, resound;
Whose dire Effects the Grecian Army found:
 Achilles' wrath, to Greece the direful spring
Of woes unnumber'd, heavenly goddess, sing!
 Achilles' fatal wrath, whence discord rose,
That brought the sons of Greece unnumber'd woes,
 The wrath of the son of Peleus,—O goddess of song, unfold! The deadly wrath of Achilles : To Greece the source of many woes! Achilles sing, O Goddess! Peleus' son;
His wrath pernicious, who ten thousand woes
 The stern resentment of Achilles, son
Of Peleus, Muse record,—dire source of woe;
 Sing Muse the deadly wrath of Peleus' son
Achilles, source of many thousand woes
 Sing, Muse, the fatal wrath of Peleus' son,
Which to the Greeks unnumb'red evils brought,
 Sing, Goddess, the destructive wrath of Achilles, son of Peleus, which brought many disasters upon the Greeks, A Graduate Of The University
 Achillies wrath accurst, O Goddess, sing,
Which caused ten thousand sorrows to the Greeks,
 Sing, O goddess, the destructive wrath of Achilles, son of Peleus, which brought countless woes upon the Greeks, Of Peleus' son, Achilles, sing, oh goddess, the resentment
Accursed, which with countless pangs Achaia's army wounded,
 Sing, O goddess, the destructive wrath of Achilles son of Peleus, which caused ten thousand thousand griefs to the Achæans Sing, divine Muse, sing the implacable wrath of Achilleus! 
Heavy with death and with woe to the banded sons of Achaia!
 The wrath of Peleus' son Achilles sing,
O goddess, wrath destructive, that did on
 Goddess! O sing the wrath of Pêleus' son,
Achillès' wrath,—baneful,—that on the Achaians
 Of Peleus' son, Achilles, sing, O Muse,
The vengeance, deep and deadly; whence to Greece
 Wrath of Achilleus, son of Peleus, sing,
O heavenly Muse, which in its fatal sway
 The baneful wrath, O goddess, sing, of Peleus' son, the source
Of sorrows dire, and countless woes to all the Grecian force;
 The wrath of Peleus' son, that evil wrath
Which on Achaia piled a myriad woes,
 Sing, celestial Muse! the destroying wrath of Achilles,
Peleus' son: which myriad mischiefs heaped on the Grecians,
 Sing, Muse, Achilles' scathing wrath, which bore
A thousand sorrows to Achaia's shore—
 Sing, O heavenly goddess, the wrath of Peleides Achilles,
Ruinous wrath, whence numberless woes came down to Achaia,
 Peleïdes Achilles, his anger, Goddess, sing;
Fell anger, fated on the Greeks ten thousand woes to bring;
 Sing, Goddess, the pernicious wrath of Achilles the son of Peleus, which caused innumerable woes to the Greeks, O goddess! sing the wrath of Peleus' son,
Achilles; sing the deadly wrath that brought
 Sing of Achilles' wrath, oh heavenly muse,
Which brought upon the Greeks unnumbered woes,
 Muse, of Pelidéan Achilles sing the resentment
Ruinous, who brought down many thousand griefs on Achaians,
 Sing, goddess, the deadly wrath of Achilles, Peleus' son, which caused for the Achæans countless woes, Sing, goddess, the wrath of Achilles Peleus' son, the ruinous wrath that brought on the Achaians woes innumerable, Sing, goddess Muse, the wrath of Peleus' son,
The wrath of Achilleus with ruin fraught,
 The wrath of Achilles, the Peleus-begotten, O Song-queen, sing,
Fell wrath, that dealt the Achaians woes past numbering;
 Sing for me, goddess, the wrath, the wrath of Peleian Achilles
Ruinous wrath, which laid unnumbered woes on the Grecians;
 The wrath, that rose accursèd, and that laid
Unnumbered sorrows on Achaia's host,
 Sing, Goddess, how Pelides' wrath arose,
Disastrous, working Greece unnumbered woes,
 Sing, O goddess, the fatal wrath of Peleus' son Achilles, which brought ten thousand troubles on the Achæans, Goddess, sing the destroying wrath of Achilles, Peleus' son, which brought woes unnumbered on the Achæans, Sing, O goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that brought countless ills upon the Achaeans. Sing, O goddess, the accursèd wrath of Achilles, son of Peleus, the wrath which brought countless sorrows unto the Achaians The wrath sing, goddess, of Peleus' son, Achilles, that destructive wrath which brought the countless woes upon the Achaeans, Sing, O goddess, the Wrath of Achilleus, son of king Peleus—Wrath accursèd, the source of unnumbered woes to the Achaioi, An angry man—there is my story: the bitter rancour of Achillês, prince of the house of Peleus, which brought a thousand troubles upon the Achaian host. The Wrath of Achilles is my theme, that fatal wrath which, in fulfillment of the will of Zeus, brought the Achaeans so much suffering and sent the gallant souls of many noblemen to Hades Sing, O Goddess, of the wrath of Peleus' son Achilles, the deadly wrath that brought upon the Achaeans countless woes Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus' son Achilleus
and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians,
 Sing, Goddess, the wrath of Achilles Pelëides,
The ruinous anger that woes on the Danaans brought
 Sing, MOUNTAIN GODDESS, sing through me
That anger which most ruinously
 Sing, O goddess, the ruinous wrath of Achilles,
Son of Peleus, the terrible curse that brought
 Anger be now your song, immortal one,
Akhilleus' anger, doomed and ruinous,
 Sing, goddess, of the anger of Achilleus, son of Peleus, the accursed anger which brought uncounted anguish on the Achaians Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
 Sing, Goddess, Achilles' maniac rage:
ruinous thing! it roused a thousand sorrows
 Rage:
            Sing, Goddess, Achilles' rage,
Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks
 Sing, Goddess, sing of the rage of Achilles, son of Peleus—
that murderous anger which condemned Achaeans
 Anger—sing, goddess, the anger of Achilles son of Peleus, that accursed anger, which brought the Greeks endless sufferings Sing now, goddess, the wrath of Achilles the scion of Peleus,
ruinous rage which brought the Achaians uncounted afflictions;
 Sing, goddess, of Peleus' son Achilles' anger,
ruinous, that caused the Greeks untold ordeals,
 Goddess, sing me the anger, of Achilles Peleus' son, that fatal anger that brought countless sorrows on the Greeks, The rage of Achilles—sing it now, goddess, sing through me
the deadly rage that caused the Achaeans such grief
 Sing, goddess, the anger of Achilles, Peleus' son,
the accursed anger which brought the Achaeans countless
 Sing of rage, Goddess, that bane of Akhilleus,
Peleus' son, which caused untold pain for Akhaians,
 Muse, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Akhilleus,
deadly rage that brought the Akhaians endless pain,
 The rage sing, O goddess, of Achilles the son of Peleus,
the destructive anger that brought ten-thousand pains to the
 Wrath—sing, goddess, of the ruinous wrath of Peleus' son Achilles,
that inflicted woes without number upon the Achaeans,
 Sing, goddess, of the wrath of Achilles Peleusson, the ruinous wrath that brought immense pain to the Acheans Wrath, goddess, sing of Achilles Pēleus' son's
calamitous wrath, which hit the Achaians with countless ills—
 Goddess, sing of the cataclysmic wrath of great Achilles, son of Peleus, which caused the Greeks immeasurable pain and sent so many noble souls of heroes to Hades,
 Ancient Greek:  ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ
πλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσεν
πολλῶν δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω,
πολλὰ δ᾽ ὅ γ᾽ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν,
ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων.
ἀλλ᾽ οὐδ᾽ ὣς ἑτάρους ἐρρύσατο, ἱέμενός περ:
αὐτῶν γὰρ σφετέρῃσιν ἀτασθαλίῃσιν ὄλοντο,
νήπιοι, οἳ κατὰ βοῦς Ὑπερίονος Ἠελίοιο
ἤσθιον: αὐτὰρ ὁ τοῖσιν ἀφείλετο νόστιμον ἦμαρ.
τῶν ἁμόθεν γε, θεά, θύγατερ Διός, εἰπὲ καὶ ἡμῖν.
 Romanization:
 andra moi ennepe, mousa, polytropon, hos mala polla
planchthē, epei troiēs hieron ptoliethron epersen:
pollōn d' anthrōpōn iden astea kai noon egnō,
polla d' ho g' en pontō pathen algea hon kata thymon,
arnymenos hēn te psychēn kai noston hetairōn.
all' oud' hōs hetarous errysato, hiemenos per:
autōn gar spheterēsin atasthaliēsin olonto,
nēpioi, ohi kata bous Hyperionos Ēelioio
ēsthion: autar ho toisin apheileto nostimon ēmar.
tōn hamothen ge, thea, thygater Dios, eipe kai hēmin.
   The man, O Muse, inform, that many a way
Wound with his wisdom to his wished stay;
 That prudent Hero's wandering, Muse, rehearse, 
Who (Troy b'ing sack'd) coasting the Universe,
 Tell me, O Muse, th’ adventures of the man
That having sack’d the sacred town of Troy,
 The man for wisdom’s various arts renown’d,
Long exercised in woes, O Muse! resound;
 Muse make the man thy theme, for shrewdness famed
And genius versatile, who far and wide
 A Wand’rer, after Ilium overthrown,
Discover’d various cities, and the mind
And manners learn’d of men, in lands remote.
He num’rous woes on Ocean toss’d, endured,
Anxious to save himself, and to conduct
His followers to their home; yet all his care
Preserved them not; they perish’d self-destroy’d
By their own fault; infatuate! who devoured
The oxen of the all-o’erseeing Sun,
And, punish’d for that crime, return’d no more.
Daughter divine of Jove, these things record,
As it may please thee, even in our ears.
 O Muse, inspire me to tell of the crafty 
man, who wandered very much after he
 Muse! sing the Man by long experience tried,
Who, fertile in resources, wander'd wide,
 O Muse, sing to me of the man full of
resources, who wandered very much
 Sing me, O Muse, that all-experienced Man, 
Who, after he Troy's sacred town o'erthrew,
 Tell of the man, thou Muse, much versed, who widely
Wandered, when he had sacked Troy’s sacred fortress;
 Sing me. O Muse, that hero wandering,
Who of men's minds did much experience reap,
 Εννεπε declare μοιI to me, Мουσα Muse, 
ανδρα the man πολυτροπον of many
 The travelled Man of many a turn,—driven far,
Far wandering, when he had sacked Troy’s sacred Town;
 Tell me, O Muse, declare to me that man
Tost to and fro by fate, who, when his arms
 Tell me, oh Muse, of-the-many-sided man,
Who wandered far and wide full sore bestead,
 Sing, Muse, of that deep man, who wander'd much,
 When he had raz'd the walls of sacred Troy,
 Tell me, O Muse, of that sagacious man
Who, having overthrown the sacred town
 Muse! tell me of the man with much resource,
Who wandered far, when sacred Troy he sacked;
 Saw towns of many men, learned all they knew,
Winning his own life and his friends’ return.  
Yet them he saved not, earnest though he was,
For by their own temerity they died.
Fools! who devoured the oxen of the sun,
Who from them took the day of their return.
[Muse, child of Jove! from some source tell us this.]
   — Note: not a translation, per se, but the 
Greek text with commentary —
 O Muse! inspire me to tell of the man,
skilled in expedients, who wandered
 very much after he had brought to 
destruction the sacred city of Troy, 
and saw the cities of many men, and 
become acquainted with their 
dispositions. And he, indeed, on the 
deep, endured in bis mind many 
sufferings, whilst endeavoring to 
secure his own life and the return of 
his companions; but not even thus, 
although anxious, did he save his 
companions : for they perished by 
their own infatuation; foolish [men 
that they were], who did eat up the 
Sun who journeys above; but he 
deprived them of their return [the 
day of return]. Of these events, 
arising from whatever cause, O 
goddess! daughter of Jove, inform 
us also.
 Tell me, Muse, of that man, so ready at need,
who wandered far and wide, after he had sacked
 the sacred citadel of Troy, and many were the 
men whose towns he saw and whose mind he 
learnt, yea, and many the woes he suffered in 
his heart upon the deep, striving to win his own 
life and the return of his company. Nay, but even 
so he saved not his company, though he desired 
it sore. For through the blindness of their own 
hearts they perished, fools, who devoured the 
oxen of Helios Hyperion: but the god took from 
them their day of returning. Of these things, 
goddess, daughter of Zeus, whencesoever thou 
hast heard thereof, declare thou even unto us.
 Sing Muse the hero versatile, who roved 
So far, so long, after he overthrew
 Troy's holy citadel ; of many men 
He saw the cities, and their manners learned; 
And woes he suffered on the deep; he strove 
To win his comrades' lives, and safe return. 
But all his strivings failed to rescue them: 
They perished for their witless sacrilege, 
Who ate the oxen of Hyperion Sun; 
Hence nevermore saw they their native land. 
Daughter of Jove, help us to tell the tale.
 Muse! of that hero versatile indite to me the song,
Doomed, when he sacred Troy had sacked, to wander far and long.
 Who saw the towns of many men, much knowledge did obtain
Anent their ways, and with much woe was heart-wrung on the main,
Seeking his own life to preserve, his friends' return to gain.
E'en so he rescued not his friends, though eagerly he strove,
For them their own infatuate deeds to direful ending drove.
Fools, who the sun-god's sacred beeves dared madly to devour,
Doomed by his anger ne'er to see of glad return the hour.
Sing, goddess, child of mighty Jove, of these events, I pray,
And from what starting-point thou wilt begin with me the lay.
 The Hero of craft-renown, O Song-goddess, chant me his fame,
Who, when low he had laid Troy town, unto many a far land came,
 And many a city beheld he, and knew the hearts of their folk, 
And by woes of the sea was unquelled, o'er the rock of his spirit that broke,
When he fain would won for a prey his life, and his friends' return,
Yet never they saw that day, howsoever his heart might yearn, 
But they perished every one, by their own mad deeds did they fall,
For they slaughtered the kine of the Sun, and devoured them — fools were they all. 
So the God in his wrath took awav their day of return for their guilt. 
[(1903 edition): So in anger their home-coming day did the God take away for their guilt.]  
O Goddess, inspire my lay, with their tale; take it up as thou wilt.
   — Note: not a translation, per se, but the 
Greek text with "marginal references, various 
readings, notes and appendices." —
   — Note: Not a translation, per se,
but a commentary. Edition inclusive
of Books 11 – 24 —
 Speak to me, Muse, of the adventurous man
who wandered long after he sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many the men whose towns he 
 saw, whose ways he proved ; and many a pang 
he bore in his own breast at sea while struggling 
for his' life and his men's safe return. Yet even 
so, by all his zeal, he did not save his men; for 
through their own perversity they perished— 
fools! who devoured the kine of the exhalted 
Sun. Wherefore he took away the day of their return.
Of this, O goddess, daughter of Zeus, 
 
beginning where thou wilt, speak to us also. Tell me, O Muse, of the Shifty, the man who wandered afar. 
After the Holy Burg, Troy town, he had wasted with war;
 He saw the towns of menfolk, and the mind of men did he learn; 
As he warded his life in the world, and his fellow-farers' return, 
Many a grief of heart on the deep-sea flood he bore, 
Nor yet might he save his fellows, for all that he longed for it sore 
They died of their own soul's folly, for witless as they were 
They ate up the beasts of the Sun, the Rider of the air, 
And he took away from them all their dear returning day; 
O goddess, O daughter of Zeus, from whencesoever ye may, 
Gather the tale, and tell it, yea even to us at the last!
 Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many resources, who many 
Ills was made to endure, when he Troy's sacred city had wasted;
 Many the people whose cities he saw, and learned of their customs, 
Many also the sorrows he suffered at sea in his spirit, 
Striving to save his own life and secure the return of his comrades 
But not thus his comrades he saved, however he wished it, 
For by their own presumptuous deeds they foolishly perished: 
Madmen they, who devoured the sun god, Hyperion's oxen, 
And in revenge he took from them their day of returning. 
Of these things, thou goddess, daughter of Jove, tell us also.
 Sing through my lips, O Goddess, sing the man
Resourceful, who, storm-buffeted far and wide,
 After despoiling of Troy's sacred tower,
Beheld the cities of mankind, and knew
Their various temper! Many on the sea
The sorrows in his inmost heart he bore
For rescue of his comrades and his life;
Those not for all his effort might he save;
Fools, of their own perversities they fell,
Daring consume the cattle of the Sun
Hyperion, who bereft them of return!
That we too may have knowledge, sing these things,
Daughter of Zeus, beginning whence thou wilt!
 Tell me, O muse, of that ingenious hero who
travelled far and wide after he had sacked the
 famous town of Troy. Many cities did he visit, 
and many were the nations with whose 
manners and customs he was acquainted; 
moreover he suffered much by sea while 
trying to save his own life and bring his 
men safely home; but do what he might 
he could not save his men, for they 
perished through their own sheer folly 
in eating the cattle of the Sun-god 
Hyperion; so the god prevented them 
from ever reaching home. Tell me, too, about 
all these things, O daughter of Jove, from 
whatsoever source you may know them.
  — Note: translation inclusive of  Books 13–24 — O Muse, instruct me of the man who drew 
His changeful course through wanderings not a few
 After he sacked the holy town of Troy, 
And saw the cities and the counsel knew

Of many men, and many a time at sea 
Within his heart he bore calamity, 
While his own life he laboured to redeem 
And bring his fellows back from jeopardy.

Yet not his fellows thus from death he won, 
Fain as he was to save them: who undone 
By their own hearts' infatuation died, 
Fools, that devoured the oxen of the Sun,

Hyperion: and therefore he the day 
Of their returning homeward reft away. 
Goddess, God's daughter, grant that now thereof 
We too may hear, such portion as we may.
 Sing, O Muse, of the man so wary and wise, who in far lands
Wandered whenas he had wasted the sacred town of the Trojans.
 Many a people he saw and beheld their cities and customs,
Many a woe he endured in his heart as he tossed on the ocean,
Striving to win him his life and to bring home safely his comrades.
Ah but he rescued them not, those comrades, much as he wished it.
Ruined by their own act of infatuate madness they perished,
Fools that they were—who the cows of the sun-god, lord Hyperion,
Slaughtered and ate; and he took from the men their day of returning.
Sing—whence-ever the lay—sing, Zeus-born goddess, for us too!
 Tell me, O Muse, of the man of many devices, 
who wandered full many ways after he had
 sacked the sacred citadel of Troy. Many 
were the men whose cities he saw and 
whose mind he learned, aye, and many 
the woes he suffered in his heart upon 
the sea, seeking to win his own life and 
the return of his comrades. Yet even so 
he saved not his comrades, though he 
desired it sore, for through their own 
blind folly they perished—fools, who 
devoured the kine of Helios Hyperion; 
but he took from them the day of their 
returning. Of these things, goddess, 
daughter of Zeus, beginning where thou 
wilt, tell thou even unto us.
 Sing me the Restless Man, O Muse, who roamed the world over, 
When, by his wondrous guile, he had sacked Troy's sacred fortress.
 Cities of various men he saw: their thoughts he discernéd. 
Many a time, in the deep, his heart was melted for trouble. 
Striving to win his life, and eke return for his comrades: 
Yet, though he strove full sore, he could not save his companions, 
For, as was meet and just, through deeds of folly they perished: 
Fools ! who devoured the oxen of Him who rides in the heavens, 
Helios, who, in his course, missed out their day of returning. 
Yet, how they fared and died, be gracious, O Goddess, to tell us.
 Māny a | tĩme in the | deēp [– (pause or 'cæsura')] hĩs | heārt was | mēlted for | trōublē, Tell me, O Muse, of that Great Traveller
Who wandered far and wide when he had sacked
 The sacred town of Troy. Of many men
He saw the cities and he learned the mind;
Ay, and at heart he suffered many woes
Upon the sea, intent to save his life
And bring his comrades home. Yet even so
His men he could not save for all his efforts,
For through their own blind wilfulness they perished;
The fools! who ate up Hyperion's kine;
And he bereft them of their homing day.
Touching these things, beginning where thou wilt,
Tell even us, O goddess, child of Zeus.
 Tell me, O Muse, of that clever hero 
who wandered far after capturing the
 sacred city of Troy. For he saw the 
towns and learned the ways of many 
peoples. Many hardships too he 
suffered on the sea while struggling 
for his own life and for the safe return 
of his men. Yet all his zeal did not save 
his companions. They perished through 
their own rashness — the fools! — because 
they ate the cattle of the Sun, and he 
therefore kept them from reaching 
home. Tell us also of this, 0 goddess, 
daughter of Zeus, beginning where 
you will.
 Tell  me the tale, Muse, of that man  
Of many changes, he who went
 This is the story of a man, one who 
was never at a loss. He had travelled
 The hero of the tale which I beg the 
Muse to help me tell is that resourceful
 Tell me, O muse, of the hero fated to roam 
So long and so far when Ilion's keep he had sack'd,
 Tell me, Muse, of the man of many ways, 
who was driven far journeys, after he had
 sacked Troy's sacred citadel. Many were 
they whose cities he saw, whose minds he 
learned of, many the pains he suffered in 
his spirit on the wide sea, struggling for 
his own life and the homecoming of his 
companions. Even so he could not save 
his companions, hard though he strove 
to; they were destroyed by their own 
wild recklessness, fools, who devoured 
the oxen of Helios, the Sun God, and 
he took away the day of their 
homecoming. From some point here, 
goddess, daughter of Zeus, speak, and 
begin our story.
 Of that versatile man, O Muse, tell me the story, 
How he wandered both long and far after sacking
 The city of holy Troy. May were the towns 
He saw and many the men whose minds he knew, 
And many were the woes his stout heart suffered at sea 
As he fought to return alive with living comrades. 
Them he could not save, though much he longed to, 
For through their own thoughtless greed they died -- blind fools 
Who slaughtered the Sun's own cattle, Hyperion's herd, 
For food, and so by him were kept from returning. 
Of all these things, O Goddess, daughter of Zeus, 
Beginning wherever you swish, tell even us.
 Sing in me, Muse, and through me tell the story     
of that man skilled in all ways of contending,
 the wanderer, harried for years on end,
after he plundered the stronghold
on the proud height of Troy.
                                He saw the townlands
and learned the minds of many distant men,
and weathered many bitter nights and days
in his deep heart at sea, while he fought only
to save his life, to bring his shipmates home.     
But not by will nor valor could he save them,
for their own recklessness destroyed them all--
children and fools, they killed and feasted on
the cattle of Lord Hêlios, the Sun,
and he who moves all day through heaven
took from their eyes the dawn of their return.
Of these adventures, Muse, daughter of Zeus,
tell us in our time, lift up great song again.
 Tell me, Muse, about the man of many turns, who many 
Ways wandered when he had sacked Troy's holy citadel;
 He saw the cities of many men, and he knew their thought; 
On the ocean he suffered many pains within his heart, 
Striving for his life and his companions' return. 
But he did not save his companions, though he wanted to: 
They lost their own lives because of their recklessness. 
The fools, they devoured the cattle of Hyperion, 
The Sun, and he took away the day of their return. 
Begin the tale somewhere for us also, goddess, daughter of Zeus.
 Goddess of song, teach me the story of a hero.
      This was the man of wide-ranging spirit who had sacked the sacred town of Troy and who wandered afterwards long and far.   Muse, tell me of a man – a man
of much resource, who was made Muse, tell me of the man of many wiles, 
the man who wandered many paths of exile
 Tell me, Muse of that resourceful 
man who was driven to wander far
 Sing to me of the man, Muse, the man of twists and turns
driven time and again off course, once he had plundered
 Tell me, O Muse, of a man of resourceful spirit who wandered
Far, having taken by storm Troy's sacred city and sacked it.
 Tell me, Muse, of the versatile man who
was driven off course many times after he had sacked the holy citadel of Troy.   Speak, Memory –
                                   Of the cunning hero
The wanderer, blown off course time and again
After he plundered Troy's sacred heights.
 Muse, speak to me now of that resourceful man
who wandered far and wide after ravaging
 Tell me, Muse, of the man versatile and resourceful, who wandered
many a sea-mile after he ransacked Troy’s holy city.
 Tell me, Muse, of that man of many resources, who wandered far and wide, after sacking the holy citadel of Troy.
 The man, my Muse, resourceful, driven a long way
after he sacked the holy city of Trojans:
 Speak through me, O Muse,
of that man of many devices
 Sing to me, Muse, of that endlessly cunning man
who was blown off course to the ends of the earth, in the years
 Sing to me of the resourceful man, O Muse, who wandered
far after he had sacked the sacred city of Troy. He saw
 Tell me, Muse, of the man of many turns, who was driven
far and wide after he had sacked the sacred city of Troy.
 Tell me, Muse, of that resourceful man who trekked
far and wide, when he’d sacked Troy’s holy place;
 Tell me about a complicated man. Muse, tell me how he wandered and was lost when he had wrecked the holy town of Troy, The man, Muse—tell me about that resourceful man, who wandered
far and wide, when he'd sacked Troy's sacred citadel: