Şiir 13
Of their battle-rousing sons I shall sing, and of swift Achilles, and the high-spirited son of beautiful Eriboea, Aias, the shield-bearing hero,
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who stood on the stern of his ship and stopped bold-hearted, bronze [helmeted] Hector in his rush to burn the ships with dread fire,
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at the time when the son of Peleus stirred fierce wrath [in his breast]
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and released the [Dardanians from ruin]. Before they had not left the [many-towered]
marvellous town of Ilium, but had cowered, dazed by fear, before the fierce battle, when Achilles raged destructively across the plain,
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shaking his murderous spear. But when the fearless son of the violet-garlanded Nereid withdrew from battle,
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—as when the North wind, on the dark-blossoming sea,
afflicts the spirits of men beneath the waves, when it comes upon them as night begins, but it withdraws with the break of Dawn, who shines on mortals, and a gentle breeze smooths the sea;
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they billow their sail with the breath of the South wind, and eagerly reach unhoped-for dry land—
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in such a way, when the Trojans heard that the spearman Achilles
was remaining in his tent because of the golden-haired woman Briseis with lovely limbs, they raised their arms to the gods, seeing a bright
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gleam from out of the storm. With all speed they left the walls of Laomedon and rushed onto the plain, bringing violent battle,
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and roused terror in the Danaans. Ares, god of the spear, urged them on, and Loxias Apollo, lord of the Lycians. And they came to the shore of the sea,
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and fought beside the ships with their fine sterns, and the dark earth ran red with the blood of men slain by the hand of Hector,
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heroes through the onslaught of godlike
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with great hopes, and arrogant shouts,
