Delta.

delta

   old maid swears the great oath that he is who he is; telemachos
   urges that i embrace him for his absent father; now popular opinion
   is growing in his favor especially since there's no rival: do i have
   a chance to convince myself?

   yesterday i invented another game to while away the tedium of
   waiting for my pets: the stringing of absent odysseus's bow
   (with ease) and the shooting of an arrow (no second) through all the
   twelve axes  (with ease)

   surely, these suitors that i know would have taken years working
   around that one whilst feasting on pigs, sheep, bulls, which we have
   in abundance: this place is too large, cold, silent without such a
   raucous group

   now, up comes this bastard (none of my accredited suitors), who has
   no spirit of play and ruined it all by being literal and realistic:
   don't you have make-beliefs where you came begging from you
   bloodthirsty man?

   titans, cyclops, gods can bend and string any bow any moment and
   shoot straight: beggar, i have told them i wouldn't marry you; it
   wasn't the strength of arm that was contested: but i was pitting my
   wits against theirs

   my life had steadied into creating conundrums for my tame pets; for
   holding a salon; theirs it was to glory in my beauty, to sing my
   praise to bring the latest news and fashions whilst awaiting my
   never-coming final choice

   when i had gone through this batch, or when some of them had retired
   due to old age or lack of heart, i had looked forward to the
   generation of telemachos to contribute their youthful suitors to my
   legendary role; hoping i remained young

   perhaps my time is up?