Rodney Merrill's translation of the *Iliad* strives to maintain the formal structure and gravity of the original epic by adopting a specific metric style. Through his rendition, Merrill aims to capture the elevated language and the rhythmic cadence associated with Homeric poetry. His translation opens with "Sing now, goddess, the wrath of Achilles the scion of Peleus," echoing the traditional invocation of the muse and setting the tone for a narrative steeped in weight and solemnity. Merrill’s translation preserves the nuances and complexities of the characters, as seen in Athena’s encouragement to Diomedes and the reflective imagery of human generations likened to leaves. His language often mirrors the original's grandeur, offering detailed accounts that evoke the destinies and inner conflicts of heroes like Achilles. By contrast, Robert Graves’s translation is marked by a more colloquial and approachable style, focusing on clarity and accessibility. His version invites readers into the epic with a simpler appeal: "Sing, Mountain Goddess, sing through me," which denotes a modernized invocation. Graves takes creative liberties that emphasize narrative fluidity and vivid imagery, as evidenced in the metaphorical depiction of leaves and the straightforward dialogue of divine interactions. His translation seeks to communicate emotional truths and timeless themes succinctly, whether discussing the dual fates offered to Achilles or contemplating the inevitability of death. Graves's style sacrifices some of the formal poetic elements in favor of a more direct narrative, ultimately aiming to make the *Iliad* more engaging for contemporary readers.
Sing now, goddess, the wrath of Achilles the scion of Peleus,
ruinous rage which brought the Achaians uncounted afflictions;
many the powerful souls it sent to the dwelling of Hades,
those of the heroes, and spoil for the dogs it made of their bodies,
plunder for all of the birds, and the purpose of Zeus was accomplished—
sing from the time when first stood hostile, starting the conflict,
Atreus' scion, the lord of the people, and noble Achilles.
Sing, Mountain Goddess, sing through me
That anger which most ruinously
Inflamed Achilles, Peleus' son,
And which, before the tale was done,
Had glutted Hell with champions—bold,
Stern spirits by the thousandfold;
Ravens and dogs their corpses ate
For thus did Zeus, who watched their fate,
See his resolve, first taken when
Proud Agamemnon, King of men,
An insult on Achilles cast,
Achieve accomplishment at last.