Ah poor man, why is the god of earthquakes so dead set against you? Strewing your way with such a crop of troubles! But he can't destroy you, not for all his anger. Just do as I say. You seem no fool to me. Strip off those clothes and leave your craft for the winds to hurl, and swim for it now, you must, strike out with your arms for landfall there, Phaeacian land where destined safety waits. Here, take this scarf, tie it around your waist - it is immortal. Nothing to fear now, neither pain nor death.
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