Emily Wilson and Robert Graves bring distinct approaches to their translations of Homer's Iliad, reflecting their individual styles and interpretations of the ancient text. Wilson's version often employs a straightforward and modern language, aiming to make the epic accessible to contemporary readers. Her translation captures the gravity and intensity of the original with lines like: "Goddess, sing of the cataclysmic wrath of great Achilles,” which succinctly conveys the epic’s central theme of Achilles' rage and its catastrophic consequences. Similarly, in the passage with Athena and Diomedes, Wilson emphasizes clarity and directness, portraying the divine intervention in a manner that's vivid yet easy to follow: “Come on now, drive your horse straight at Ares, and strike him close at hand.” In contrast, Robert Graves's translation leans into a more traditional and poetic form, using a more formal language that echoes older English poetic traditions. His opening lines call on the "Mountain Goddess," using a more lyrical and rhythmic style: “Sing, Mountain Goddess, sing through me That anger which most ruinously Inflamed Achilles, Peleus' son.” This approach can lend a grander, possibly more dramatic feel to the narrative. Graves's rendering of the exhortation to Diomedes also highlights his stylistic choice: “Diomedes, true son of Tydeus, joy of my heart,” she cried. This lends a certain weight and formality to the dialogue. Both translators aim to honor the epic's emotional and thematic depth, although they do so through distinctly different lenses—Wilson with a focus on readability and contemporary resonance, and Graves with a nod to traditional poetics.
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, and made men the spoils of dogs,
a banquet for the birds, and so the plan
of Zeus unfolded—starting with the conflict
between great Agamemnon, lord of men,
and glorious 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.