When we had left Ocean’s river and come back into the open sea we reached Aeaea, where Dawn has her house and her dancing floors and the sun his risings. We beached, slept on the sand, and at first light sent men for Elpenor’s body. We cut wood, burned him with his armor, heaped a mound, and planted his oar as he had asked.
Circe knew we had returned from Hades. She came with her maids bringing bread and meat and bright red wine. “You hard men,” she said, “who went alive to the house of Hades — you will die twice, when other men die once. Eat and drink today; at dawn I will chart your road and spare you pain from bad planning on land or sea.”
We feasted till sundown. When darkness came the men slept by the stern-cables. Circe took me by the hand apart from the others and asked me everything. I told her the whole tale. Then she said I must listen well — heaven itself would help me remember.
First I would reach the Sirens, who enchant all men that draw near. Whoever hears their song never goes home; his wife and children do not greet him. The Sirens sit in a meadow with a great heap of bones of rotting men beside them. I must stop my crew’s ears with soft wax and have them bind me hand and foot upright to the mast. If I begged to be freed they must lash me tighter still.