
The twentieth year, and the man no one knows
Read the full text in our reader
φῆν κακὰ πολλὰ παθόντʼ, ὀλέσαντʼ ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους, ἄγνωστον πάντεσσιν ἐεικοστῷ ἐνιαυτῷ οἴκαδʼ ἐλεύσεσθαι· τὰ δὲ δὴ νῦν πάντα τελεῖται.
I said that, suffering many evils, having lost all his companions, unknown to all, in the twentieth year he would come home; and now all these things are being fulfilled.
Halitherses finishes recalling his old prophecy to Odysseus and turns it on the present moment.
The seer completes the old prophecy: Odysseus would come home only after losing everything — his men, even his own recognizability — reaching Ithaca in the twentieth year. Then he pins it to now: all of it is coming true.
The count is deliberately exact — the twentieth year, ten at Troy and ten astray. And ἄγνωστον, ‘unknown,’ names in advance the disguised beggar who will walk his own halls unrecognized, the shape the whole back half of the poem takes. This is not a vague oracle; it forecasts the very manner of the return, down to the fact that no one will know him.
Read the full commentary — and tap any word for its dictionary entry — in the interlinear reader.
Open Odyssey 2.174 in the full reader
Always open passages in the reader
You are reading a page of the Odyssey — the whole book is free in our interlinear reader.
The Great Library Project presses the classics in their original languages, glossed word by word — free to read, always. Browse the whole library.
Also on our shelves:
Odyssey 2.174 — The Great Library Project interlinear edition · greatlibraryproject.com/book/odyssey/2.174/