A powerful version of the Latin classic by England's late Poet Laureate, now in paperback. When it was published in 1997, Tales from Ovid was immediately recognized as a classic in its own right, as the best rendering of Ovid in generations, and as a major book in Ted Hughes's oeuvre. The Metamorphoses of Ovid stands with the works of Homer, Virgil, Dante, and Milton as a classic of world poetry; Hughes translated twenty-four of its stories with great power and directness. The result is the liveliest twentieth-century version of the classic, at once a delight for the Latinist and an appealing introduction to Ovid for the general reader. “Brilliantly succeeds at bringing Ovid's passionate and disturbing stories to life.” ― James Shapiro, The New York Times Book Review “One of the few unquestionable successes in the revolutionary vein Pound opened at the start of the century.” ― Donald Lyons, The Wall Street Journal “Hughes is as broad as Ovid and as subtle, as violent and as erotic, as elegant and as folksy-and often all at the same time. It is simply a beautiful match.” ― Michael Hofmann, The Times (London) TED HUGHES (1930-1998) published numerous volumes of poetry and prose for adults and children. He received the Guardian Award for Children's Fiction in 1985 and was appointed Poet Laureate of England in 1984. Tales from Ovid By Hughes, Ted Farrar, Straus and Giroux Copyright © 1999 Hughes, Ted All right reserved. ISBN: 0374525870 Excerpt from Tales From Ovid by Ted Hughes. Copyright © 1999 by Ted Hughes. To be published in March, 1999 by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, LLC. All rights reserved. Creation; Four Ages; Lycaon; Flood Now I am ready to tell how bodies are changed Into different bodies. I summon the supernatural beings Who first contrived The transmogrifications In the stuff of life. You did it for your own amusement. Descend again, be pleased to reanimate This revival of those marvels. Reveal, now, exactly How they were performed From the beginning Up to this moment. Before sea or land, before even sky Which contains all, Nature wore only one mask-- Since called Chaos. A huge agglomeration of upset. A bolus of everything--but As if aborted. And the total arsenal of entropy Already at war within it. No sun showed one thing to another, No moon Played her phases in heaven, No earth Spun in empty air on her own magnet, No ocean Basked or roamed on the long beaches. Land, sea, air, were all there But not to be trodden, or swum in. Air was simply darkness. Everything fluid or vapour, form formless. Each thing hostile To every other thing: at every point Hot fought cold, moist dry, soft hard, and the weightless Resisted weight. God, or some such artist as resourceful, Began to sort it out. Land here, sky there, And sea there. Up there, the heavenly stratosphere. Down here, the cloudy, the windy. He gave to each its place, Independent, gazing about freshly. Also resonating-- Each one a harmonic of the others, Just like the strings That would resound, one day, in the dome of the tortoise. The fiery aspiration that makes heaven Took it to the top. The air, happy to be idle, Lay between that and the earth Which rested at the bottom Engorged with heavy metals, Embraced by delicate waters. When the ingenious one Had gained control of the mass And decided the cosmic divisions He rolled earth into a ball. Then he commanded the water to spread out flat, To lift itself into waves According to the whim of the wind, And to hurl itself at the land's edges. He conjured springs to rise and be manifest, Deep and gloomy ponds, Flashing delicious lakes. He educated Headstrong electrifying rivers To observe their banks--and to pour Part of their delight into earth's dark And to donate the remainder to ocean Swelling the uproar on shores. Then he instructed the plains How to roll sweetly to the horizon. He directed the valleys To go deep. And the mountains to rear up Humping their backs. Everywhere he taught The tree its leaf. Having made a pattern in heaven-- Two zones to the left, two to the right And a fifth zone, fierier, between-- lSo did the Wisdom Divide the earth's orb with the same: A middle zone uninhabitable Under the fire, The outermost two zones beneath deep snow, And between them, two temperate zones Alternating cold and heat. Air hung over the earth By just so much heavier than fire As water is lighter than earth. There the Creator deployed cloud, Thunder to awe the hearts of men, And winds To polish the bolt and the lightning. Yet he forbade the winds To use the air as they pleased. Even now, as they are, within their wards, These madhouse brothers, fighting each other, All but shake the globe to pieces. The East is given to Eurus-- Arabia, Persia, all that the morning star Sees from the Himalayas. Zephyr lives in the sunset. Far to the North, beyond Scythia, Beneath the Great Bear, Boreas Bristles and turns. Opposite, in the South, Auster's home Is hidden in d