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Ulysses

Original Poetry

Translation

Ulysses

It's not very beneficial for a lazy king,

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

To sit by the fireplace, among these empty rocks,

It little profits that an idle king,

With an old wife, I measure and give out

By this still hearth, among these barren crags,

Unfair laws to a wild people,

Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole

Who save, sleep, eat, and don't know me.

Unequal laws unto a savage race,

I can't stop traveling: I want to experience life fully:

That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.

I've always enjoyed life a lot,

I cannot rest from travel: I will drink

And suffered a lot, both with those who loved me, and alone,

Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd

On shore, and when through fast-moving clouds the rainy stars

Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those

Troubled the dark sea: I've become famous;

That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when

For always wandering with a hungry heart

Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades

I've seen and known a lot; cities of people

Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;

And their ways, climates, councils, governments,

For always roaming with a hungry heart

Myself not the least, but respected by them all;

Much have I seen and known; cities of men

And enjoyed the excitement of battle with my equals,

And manners, climates, councils, governments,

Far on the echoing plains of windy Troy.

Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;

I'm part of all that I've met;

And drunk delight of battle with my peers,

Yet all experience is an arch through which

Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.

Shines that unexplored world whose edge fades

I am a part of all that I have met;

Forever and ever as I move.

Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'

How boring it is to stop, to finish,

Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades

To rust without being used, not to shine!

For ever and forever when I move.

As if just breathing were living! Life stacked on life

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

Would all be too little, and of one life to me

To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!

Little remains: but every hour is saved

As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life

From that eternal silence, something more,

Were all too little, and of one to me

A bringer of new things; and it would be wrong

Little remains: but every hour is saved

For some three days to store and save myself,

From that eternal silence, something more,

And this gray spirit longing in desire

A bringer of new things; and vile it were

To follow knowledge like a falling star,

For some three suns to store and hoard myself,

Beyond the furthest limit of human thought.

And this gray spirit yearning in desire

To follow knowledge like a sinking star,

This is my son, my own Telemachus,

Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

To whom I leave the power and the island,—

Well-loved by me, wise to carry out

This is my son, mine own Telemachus,

This work, by slow carefulness to make gentle

To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—

A rough people, and through gentle steps

Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil

Bring them to be useful and good.

This labour, by slow prudence to make mild

He is most blameless, focused on the area

A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees

Of common duties, careful not to fail

Subdue them to the useful and the good.

In acts of kindness, and to give

Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere

Proper respect to my household gods,

Of common duties, decent not to fail

When I am gone. He does his work, I do mine.

In offices of tenderness, and pay

Meet adoration to my household gods,

There is the port; the ship fills her sail:

When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

There the dark, wide seas are gloomy. My sailors,

Souls that have worked, and created, and thought with me—

That always with a playful welcome faced

The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:

Free hearts, free minds—you and I are old;

There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,

Old age still has its honor and its work;

Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—

Death ends all: but something before the end,

That ever with a frolic welcome took

Some work of noble note, may still be done,

The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed

Not unworthy of men who fought with Gods.

Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;

The lights start to twinkle from the rocks:

Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;

The long day ends: the slow moon rises: the deep

Death closes all: but something ere the end,

Moans around with many voices. Come, my friends,

Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

It's not too late to seek a new world.

Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

Push off, and sitting well in order hit

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:

The sounding waves; for my purpose holds

The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

Of all the western stars, until I die.

'T is not too late to seek a newer world.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

It may be we shall reach the Happy Isles,

The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Though much is taken, much remains; and though

Of all the western stars, until I die.

We are not now that strength which in old days

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

Moved earth and heaven, what we are, we are;

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

One equal spirit of heroic hearts,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to give up.

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Explanation

Tennyson's 'Ulysses' is a dramatic monologue that captures the restless spirit of the legendary Greek hero Ulysses (Odysseus) as he reflects on his past adventures and contemplates future ones. Dissatisfied with his life as a king, Ulysses yearns for the excitement and challenges of exploration. He sees his life as a continuous journey, where each experience is a gateway to new worlds. The poem contrasts Ulysses' desire for adventure with the domestic responsibilities he leaves to his son, Telemachus. Ulysses' determination to 'strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield' embodies the human spirit's relentless pursuit of knowledge and meaning, even in the face of aging and mortality. The poem's rich imagery and rhythmic blank verse convey a sense of urgency and passion, reflecting Tennyson's own response to personal loss and the universal quest for purpose.

Word Dictionary17

Word	Easy Meaning	Translation	Pron.
profits	benefits	gains or advantages	prah-fits
idle	lazy	inactive or not working	ai-dl
hearth	fireplace	the area in front of a fireplace	hahrth
mete	measure	to distribute or allot	meet
dole	give out	to distribute or share	dohl
lees	remains	the sediment at the bottom of a liquid	leez
Hyades	rainy stars	a group of stars associated with rain	hai-uh-deez
vext	troubled	disturbed or annoyed	vekst
unburnish'd	unpolished	not shiny or used	un-bur-nisht
sceptre	staff of power	a symbol of authority	sep-ter
frolic	playful	full of fun and high spirits	frah-lik
wanes	fades	decreases in strength or intensity	waynz
smite	hit	to strike with a firm blow	smait
furrows	waves	long narrow trenches or grooves	fur-ohz
gulfs	deep seas	large areas of sea partially enclosed by land	guhlfz
abides	remains	continues to exist	uh-baids
yield	give up	to surrender or submit	yeeld

Poet & Context

PoetAlfred, Lord Tennyson

EraVictorian

Alfred Tennyson was an English poet who served as Poet Laureate during much of Queen Victoria's reign. Known for his classical themes and vivid imagery, Tennyson's work remains influential. He is celebrated for poems like 'Ulysses' and 'The Charge of the Light Brigade.'

View on Wikipedia

When1833, published in 1842

WhyTennyson wrote 'Ulysses' after the death of his close friend Arthur Hallam. The poem reflects themes of perseverance and the quest for knowledge, drawing on the character of Ulysses from Homer's 'Odyssey' as a metaphor for the human spirit's unending pursuit of meaning.

FormBlank verse

Themes & More

Themes

AdventureExplorationPerseveranceAgingLegacy

Literary devices

Metaphor: Life is compared to a journey and an arch.Imagery: Vivid descriptions of the sea, stars, and landscapes.Alliteration: Repetition of consonant sounds, e.g., 'frolic welcome'.Personification: The sea is described as 'moaning'.Symbolism: Ulysses' journey symbolizes the quest for knowledge and meaning.

شاعری کا تجزیہ

Ulysses

Original Poetry

Translation

Ulysses

It's not very beneficial for a lazy king,

BY ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON

To sit by the fireplace, among these empty rocks,

It little profits that an idle king,

With an old wife, I measure and give out

By this still hearth, among these barren crags,

Unfair laws to a wild people,

Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole

Who save, sleep, eat, and don't know me.

Unequal laws unto a savage race,

I can't stop traveling: I want to experience life fully:

That hoard, and sleep, and feed, and know not me.

I've always enjoyed life a lot,

I cannot rest from travel: I will drink

And suffered a lot, both with those who loved me, and alone,

Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd

On shore, and when through fast-moving clouds the rainy stars

Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those

Troubled the dark sea: I've become famous;

That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when

For always wandering with a hungry heart

Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades

I've seen and known a lot; cities of people

Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;

And their ways, climates, councils, governments,

For always roaming with a hungry heart

Myself not the least, but respected by them all;

Much have I seen and known; cities of men

And enjoyed the excitement of battle with my equals,

And manners, climates, councils, governments,

Far on the echoing plains of windy Troy.

Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;

I'm part of all that I've met;

And drunk delight of battle with my peers,

Yet all experience is an arch through which

Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy.

Shines that unexplored world whose edge fades

I am a part of all that I have met;

Forever and ever as I move.

Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'

How boring it is to stop, to finish,

Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades

To rust without being used, not to shine!

For ever and forever when I move.

As if just breathing were living! Life stacked on life

How dull it is to pause, to make an end,

Would all be too little, and of one life to me

To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!

Little remains: but every hour is saved

As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life

From that eternal silence, something more,

Were all too little, and of one to me

A bringer of new things; and it would be wrong

Little remains: but every hour is saved

For some three days to store and save myself,

From that eternal silence, something more,

And this gray spirit longing in desire

A bringer of new things; and vile it were

To follow knowledge like a falling star,

For some three suns to store and hoard myself,

Beyond the furthest limit of human thought.

And this gray spirit yearning in desire

To follow knowledge like a sinking star,

This is my son, my own Telemachus,

Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

To whom I leave the power and the island,—

Well-loved by me, wise to carry out

This is my son, mine own Telemachus,

This work, by slow carefulness to make gentle

To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—

A rough people, and through gentle steps

Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil

Bring them to be useful and good.

This labour, by slow prudence to make mild

He is most blameless, focused on the area

A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees

Of common duties, careful not to fail

Subdue them to the useful and the good.

In acts of kindness, and to give

Most blameless is he, centred in the sphere

Proper respect to my household gods,

Of common duties, decent not to fail

When I am gone. He does his work, I do mine.

In offices of tenderness, and pay

Meet adoration to my household gods,

There is the port; the ship fills her sail:

When I am gone. He works his work, I mine.

There the dark, wide seas are gloomy. My sailors,

Souls that have worked, and created, and thought with me—

That always with a playful welcome faced

The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:

Free hearts, free minds—you and I are old;

There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,

Old age still has its honor and its work;

Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—

Death ends all: but something before the end,

That ever with a frolic welcome took

Some work of noble note, may still be done,

The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed

Not unworthy of men who fought with Gods.

Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;

The lights start to twinkle from the rocks:

Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;

The long day ends: the slow moon rises: the deep

Death closes all: but something ere the end,

Moans around with many voices. Come, my friends,

Some work of noble note, may yet be done,

It's not too late to seek a new world.

Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods.

Push off, and sitting well in order hit

The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:

The sounding waves; for my purpose holds

The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,

Of all the western stars, until I die.

'T is not too late to seek a newer world.

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

Push off, and sitting well in order smite

It may be we shall reach the Happy Isles,

The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths

Though much is taken, much remains; and though

Of all the western stars, until I die.

We are not now that strength which in old days

It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:

Moved earth and heaven, what we are, we are;

It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,

One equal spirit of heroic hearts,

And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to give up.

We are not now that strength which in old days

Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;

One equal temper of heroic hearts,

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Explanation

Word Dictionary17

Word	Easy Meaning	Translation	Pron.
profits	benefits	gains or advantages	prah-fits
idle	lazy	inactive or not working	ai-dl
hearth	fireplace	the area in front of a fireplace	hahrth
mete	measure	to distribute or allot	meet
dole	give out	to distribute or share	dohl
lees	remains	the sediment at the bottom of a liquid	leez
Hyades	rainy stars	a group of stars associated with rain	hai-uh-deez
vext	troubled	disturbed or annoyed	vekst
unburnish'd	unpolished	not shiny or used	un-bur-nisht
sceptre	staff of power	a symbol of authority	sep-ter
frolic	playful	full of fun and high spirits	frah-lik
wanes	fades	decreases in strength or intensity	waynz
smite	hit	to strike with a firm blow	smait
furrows	waves	long narrow trenches or grooves	fur-ohz
gulfs	deep seas	large areas of sea partially enclosed by land	guhlfz
abides	remains	continues to exist	uh-baids
yield	give up	to surrender or submit	yeeld

Poet & Context

PoetAlfred, Lord Tennyson

EraVictorian

View on Wikipedia

When1833, published in 1842

FormBlank verse

Themes & More

Themes

AdventureExplorationPerseveranceAgingLegacy

Literary devices