The corner of my apron stays dry,
never letting the thought come to my eye.
He's so far gone on his endless voyage,
he has no time for me.
Lacking in riches, he never told,
moved from placed to place,
nobody knows,
how far he ever goes.
He has no time,
for his only Penelope,
if only there were a Lotus
that would help me.
Father, oh father,
what did I do,
to deserve such treatment,
from the one and only you?
You've shot me with your skilled hand,
right through my heart,
leaving me to Polyphemus,
to tear my numb body apart,
to eat me whole,
but I am empty,
no flavor for him,
no pain for me.