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Summary: Calypso's thoughts as she watched Odysseus leave. Short and sad.
A/N: We were reading the Odyssey in English and talking about Calypso. Everyone was joking about Calypso keeping Odysseus captive for seven years, and agreeing how she was a dirty, evil seductress. I'd read the lyrics of a song by Suzanne Vega, "Calypso", and it was so sad. And so, we have here this mess, a bunch of rambling but it depressed me for a while. A little is clearly influenced by the song but it's definitely not enough to be plagiarism. Hehe...so have fun.
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I let you go.
You came to me, a gift from Zeus, dancing limply in the waves, strands of kelp entwined prettily in your beard. You came to me, burnt dark by a stricken sun, graceful ripples of muscle streamlining your body. You came to me, your skin tasting of salt and sea and tears. And you were going to die. I saved you, me, a goddess radiating beauty and refuge. And indeed, you took refuge in my arms and in my bed. For seven years, every night, you took refuge in my divine loveliness.
And yet, I was not enough for you. Immortality and the sweetest of all nymphs could not satisfy your wandering, homesick heart. What did your mortal wife have that I do not? That dying, quiet old woman—I can weave golden magnificence far more radiant than her rags. I can put the nightingale to shame, while she might be mocked by a crow. My isle puts the gods of Olympus in awe, while your home Ithaca is nothing more than a mortal man’s lair. I can be with you forever, while she will wither away as mortals are apt to do.
And yet, every day for those carefree seven years, you sat on that rocky beach and cried. You cried for the isle you will not reach for another three years, for the dying wife and dying son waiting for you, for freedom. And watching you from the depths of my caves, I cried as well, for the man who would never love me as I loved him, and for the men who would not come to my breathtaking island and fill the emptiness in my heart that you filled so well. No sweet harps from my maiden minstrels, no soft melodies from my exotic songbirds, no gentle, soothing words from the Sirens themselves could give me what you gave me.
I let you go.
I was doomed from the start. The gods may be playing with you, but you will find your home again. I, I will never find another man to let me feel the bliss—and the pain—of love. True love.
It hurt to see you cry everyday, but do you know what hurt a thousand times more? Sailing into a dawn the color of blood and the color of love, you turned and waved on your little raft. You smiled. You stood proud and gazed back at me with a new look in your eyes—a look of hope and free will. For the first time in the seven years I had kept you, you were truly happy. My voice, my charms, my divinity could not bring such a smile upon your face. Yes, you were going to that dear, old Penelope again…but to whom was I to go?
Even as I saw you drift away from me in the turf, I sang for the wind to bid you speed. Even as I saw Poseidon’s vengeful storm in the distance, I sang for the gods to grant you mercy. Even as the sand bit my feet, the saltwater sent ice through my body, the breeze stung my eyes, and the sun burnt my skin, I sang for you to find the happiness that would forever elude me. And two words rose in my throat, beautiful as I uttered them in silver melody, but ever so bitter on my tongue.
Farewell, Odysseus.
I let him go.