The Iliad translations by Robert Fagles and Peter Green bring unique qualities and stylistic choices to Homer's epic. Fagles begins his rendition with an evocative call to "sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles," placing emphasis on the destructive consequences of Achilles' anger and setting a dramatic tone. His language often includes vivid imagery and dynamic verbs, such as "hurling down to the House of Death," which enlivens the narrative. In comparison, Green opens with "Wrath, goddess, sing of Achilles Pēleus's son's calamitous wrath," and he maintains a slightly more formal and classical tone throughout. His language aims for precise adherence to the original Greek structure, as shown in phrases like "calamitous wrath," emphasizing the tragic elements rooted in the epic's ancient origins. Both translators present key scenes with sensitivity to the emotional and thematic core of the texts. In Book 5, where Athena bolsters Diomedes' courage, Fagles uses vivid, colloquial expressions such as "Lash your racing horses at Ares first," which gives a sense of immediacy and urgency. In contrast, Green opts for a slightly more literal translation, using "don't be in awe of frantic Arēs," which captures Athena’s encouragement with a touch of the original Greek's ceremonial tone. When handling metaphorical language, such as in Book 6’s famous passage on the generation of leaves, both translations maintain the poetic resonance—Fagles with "the living timber bursts with new buds" and Green with "the fertile woodland grows others." These choices reflect their distinct approaches: Fagles brings a modern, narrative-driven style, whereas Green remains closer to the text’s archaic roots, each enriching Homer's epic for diverse readerships.
Rage—Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus' son Achilles,
murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses,
hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls,
great fighters' souls, but made their bodies carrion,
feasts for the dogs and birds,
and the will of Zeus was moving toward its end.
Wrath, goddess, sing of Achilles Pēleus's son's
calamitous wrath, which hit the Achaians with countless ills—
many the valiant souls it saw off down to Hādēs,
souls of heroes, their selves1 left as carrion for dogs
and all birds of prey, and the plan of Zeus was fulfilled
from the first moment those two men parted in fury,
Atreus's son, king of men, and the godlike Achilles.