Penelope

Penelope, Ithaka’s lonesome Queen
is weaving webs of excuse and deceit
to blind and bind the suitors she has seen
come crowding to her door on hasty feet.

She’s weaving webs of excuse and deceit
that she unravels every night, alone.
They crowd into her door on hasty feet
each morn, to find her work is not yet done.

And she unravels, every night alone.
No word of him has come from foreign coasts
and each morn finds her work is not yet done.
They quarrel over her with foolish boasts

and every day she has to give report:
"No word of him has come from foreign coasts,"
to louts who fill the hall and crowd the court
and quarrel over her with foolish boasts.

And every day she gives a false report
to blind and bind the suitors she has seen,
the louts who fill her hall and want to court
Penelope, Ithaka’s lonesome Queen.

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