The Homeric Hymns, page 6
easily guided the ship, which kept sailing along its route
passing Arena, beautiful Argyphea and Thryon,
the path of Alpheos, and well-placed Aepy,
and sandy Pylos with all its people,
passing Cruni, Chalcis, Dyme,
and shining Elis where the Epeoi rule.
As the ship headed for Phera, running with Zeus’ wind,
Ithaca’s steep mountain appeared from the clouds,
then Dulichium, Same, and woody Zacynthus.
But when it had passed the entire western Peloponnesus 430
and the long gulf toward Krisa appeared,
cutting off, lengthwise, the fertile peninsula,
then Zeus ordered a clear, strong west wind
blasting from the sky, setting the ship
to sail full speed over the sea’s briny water.
Once again they sailed toward dawn and the sun,
led by Lord Apollo, the son of Zeus.
They reached vine-laden Krisa, seen from afar,
to the beach, where the seafaring ship brushed the sand.
Lord Apollo who works from afar leapt from the vessel, 440
resembling a star (in midday!)—a shower of sparks
burst from him and the fire stretched to heaven.
Descending to the inner shrine, among precious tripods,
he kindled a blaze, his arrows carrying the flame.
He crowned all Krisa with fire. The Krisan wives
and daughters cried out under Apollo’s blast,
for he cast great fear into each of them.
He flew back to the ship, swift as thought,
resembling a strong, vigorous man in his prime,
with his hair flowing over his wide shoulders. 450
His words winged their way to the Cretans:
“Strangers, who are you? From what land do you sail?
Do you have some business, or are you idly
wandering like pirates on the sea, who roam
risking their lives, bringing trouble to foreign lands?
Why do you sit grieving, not going ashore
or stowing the gear of your dark ship?
That is the custom among enterprising men
on a dark ship when they come from the sea
to dry land. Weary with labor, the desire 460
for sweet food immediately seizes their minds.”
His words set courage in their breasts.
The leader of the Cretans faced him:
“Stranger—though you are nothing like mortals
in body and stature, but like the deathless gods—
be healthy and rejoice; may the gods grant you wealth.
But now tell me truly so that I may know:
What country and land is this? What men live here?
With a different plan, we were sailing the great sea
to Pylos from Crete, which we declare our birthplace. 470
Instead, we went here on our ship, in no way willing
for this journey on other paths; we long for home.
Some immortal led us here against our will.”
Apollo, who works from afar, answered:
“Strangers, who once lived by wooded Knossos,
now, no longer will you return home,
each to his beloved city, lovely homes
and dear wives. Here, you will care for
my rich temple honored by many people.
I am the son of Zeus; I declare I am Apollo. 480
I led you here over the great depth of the sea,
intending no evil. You will maintain
my rich temple so much honored by all people,
and you will know the plans of the gods.
By their will, you will be honored always, all your days.
Now come, quickly obey my command:
Drop the sail, release the oxhide ropes,
and haul your swift ship onto dry land—
take goods and gear out of the well-balanced ship.
Then make an altar at the seashore, 490
kindle a fire on it and offer up white barley.
Then stand close around the altar and pray—
because I first leapt onto your swift ship as a dolphin
out of the misty sea, pray to me as Delphinios,
the Dolphin, and the altar will be Delphinian
and will always be seen clearly from afar.
Next, eat beside your swift, dark ship
and pour libations to the blessed Olympian gods.
When you have satisfied the desire for sweet food,
come with me at once, and sing a paean until you reach 500
the place where you will keep my rich temple.”
So he spoke. They listened carefully and obeyed.
They dropped the sail right away, released the ropes,
lowered the mast to the mast-rest by the stays,
and landed on the shore of the bay.
They hauled the ship from the water to dry land,
high on the sand, and jammed in the long props.
Then they made an altar on the seashore;
kindling a fire and offering up white barley,
they prayed, as he bid, standing around the altar. 510
Afterward, they ate dinner by the swift black ship
and poured libations to the blessed Olympian gods.
When they quenched their desire for food and drink,
they went with the son of Zeus, Lord Apollo
who, stepping high and fine, sweetly played the lyre.
The Cretans followed him to Pytho, keeping the beat
and singing a paean to the healer god
like the paean singers in Crete, and those whom
the divine Muse fills with honey-voiced song.
They danced, unwearied, up to the ridge, soon reaching 520
Parnassus and the beautiful place where Apollo
intended the Cretans to live honored by many people.
He showed them his holy inner shrine and rich temple.
Now, their courage arose within their breasts
and the Cretan leader faced Apollo:
“O Lord, since you brought us far away
from our dear ones and fatherland—as it pleased you—
now, how will we live? We urge you to consider.
This land is not good for vineyards or pastures;
how can we live well and serve other people?” 530
Apollo, son of Zeus, smiled at them:
“Foolish human beings, always suffering,
who wish for grief, hard work and trouble in mind:
I will put a comforting word in your heart.
Each of you could hold a knife in your right hand
to kill sheep nonstop—they will be that plentiful,
so many will the glorious human race bring me.
Guard my temple, welcome the people
gathering here, under my direction above all
[missing line]
But should there be any rash word or deed, 540
the arrogant violence customary among mortals,
then other men will become your masters,
forever subduing you under their force.
All has been told to you; guard it in your heart.”
Son of Zeus and Leto, now farewell—
but I will remember you and the rest of the song.
4. HYMN TO HERMES
Muse, sing of Hermes, son of Zeus and Maia,
Guardian of Mount Kyllene and Arcadia, rich in flocks,
Luck-bringing messenger of gods, whom Maia bore
when the fair-haired nymph joined in love with Zeus.
Shunning the crowd of blessed gods, the revered goddess
lived in the shady cave where the son of Kronos
used to lie with her in the dark of night
(while sweet sleep held white-armed Hera)
unnoticed by immortal gods and mortal men.
When great Zeus accomplished his goal, 10
the tenth lunar month was fixed in heaven
and illuminated a work worth noticing:
Maia bore a wily child with a seductive mind—
a robber, cattle rustler, guide of dreams,
who stands watch by night, guardian at the gate,
who would soon reveal glorious deeds among immortal gods.
Born at dawn, at midday he played the lyre,
at dusk he stole the cattle of Apollo the skillful Archer,
on that fourth day of the month Queen Maia bore him.
When he leapt from his mother’s immortal womb, 20
he did not lie long in his holy cradle,
but sprang up to search for Apollo’s cattle,
out over the threshold of the high-arching cave.
There he found a tortoise and won immense wealth:
Hermes first made the tortoise a singer.
Feeding on the rich grasses by the house,
light-footed, she chanced upon him
at the door. The luck-bringing son of Zeus
gazed at her, laughed and said:
“A lucky omen for me, not bad! 30
Hello, pleasing sight, lovely lady-friend at the feast,
heartbeat of the dance! Where did you get that pretty toy,
that speckled shell of yours, dear mountain tortoise?
I’ll bring you in and you’ll do me good
and to your benefit, although mine first.
Better to stay in, as it’s dangerous out there.
You’ll ward off painful spells while alive,
but if you should die, you’ll sing most beautifully.”
At once he picked her up in his hands
and carried the lovely toy into the house. 40
Then, flipping her over, with an iron carving knife
he scooped out the mountain tortoise’s marrow.
As when swift thought pierces the chest
of a man haunted by crowded cares
or when sparks flash from a man’s eyes,
so soon glorious Hermes devised word and deed.
Cutting reed stalks to measure, he fastened them
by piercing through the back of the tortoise shell.
His mind intent, he stretched cowhide around the front,
inserted two arms, joined them with a crossbar, 50
and strung seven harmonious strings of sheep-gut.
When he finished, he held the lovely toy
and tried each strain with the pick,
her sound haunting under his touch.
Like young men provoking each other at feasts,
the god sang along beautifully with the lyre,
improvising tales of the amorous love talk
between Kronos’ divine son and Maia in fine sandals:
Hermes celebrated in song his own famous conception.
And he honored Maia’s handmaids and bright house, 60
the tripods and abundant cauldrons inside.
Yet while he sang, his heart desired other things.
Then Hermes placed the hollow lyre
into his holy cradle. Craving meat, he sprang
from the fragrant great hall to a promontory,
thinking through utter trickery in his mind
as thieves plot in the black of night.
At that moment, Helios, with chariot and horses,
was setting beneath the earth toward Ocean.
Hermes sped toward the shady mountains of Pieria 70
where the blessed gods kept their divine cattle,
who grazed the pleasant overgrown meadows.
Maia’s son, the keen-eyed Slayer of Argos,
stole fifty from the herd of loud-bellowing cattle.
He drove the wandering cows through a sandy place,
turning their tracks backward. Using a skillful trick,
he reversed their hooves, making the front behind
and the hind in front, while he faced forward.
On the sand by the sea, he wove wicker sandals,
amazing things, unheard of and unimagined, 80
mixing together tamarisk and myrtle twigs.
Fastening together the new budding wood,
he tied the light sandals securely under his feet,
leaves and all. The glorious Slayer of Argos
took off from Pieria, shunning plain walking,
shod as if for hastening on a long journey—a unique god.
But an old man digging his blooming vineyard saw him
hurrying to the plain through grassy Onchestos.
The splendid son of Maia said to him:
“Old Man, bent over hoeing around your plants, 90
you’ll have a lot of wine when they all fruit
[missing line] [if you]
don’t see what you’ve seen, are deaf to what you’ve heard
and keep quiet, since my business doesn’t hurt yours.”
Saying that, he urged on the head of cattle.
Hermes drove them over shadowy mountains,
echoing valleys, and plains in full bloom.
With most of divine night—his dark ally—ending,
the workingman’s dawn would soon appear.
As shining Selene (moon daughter of Lord Pallas,
son of Megamedes) ascended a steep peak, 100
the brave son of Zeus drove Phoibos Apollo’s
broad-chested cattle over the Alpheos river.
Still untamed, they reached the arching cave
and the troughs by the bountiful meadow.
After he had amply fed the loud-bellowing cows
on fodder of lotus and dewy galingale grasses,
he drove them crowded together into the fold.
Then he gathered some wood, seeking the skill of fire.
With a knife, he stripped a shining laurel bough
[missing line]
fitting tightly in his palm, the hot flame flared up. 110
(Hermes was the first to give us sticks to ignite fire.)
He piled up many dry logs and packed them tightly
into a pit in the ground: the glowing flame
spurted out a great blast of searing fire.
While the power of Hephaistos fed the blaze,
Hermes dragged two bellowing cows
outside near the flame; potent strength came to him.
Throwing them on their backs, they lay panting
as he rolled them over and pierced their backbones.
He added more work, cutting meat rich with fat; 120
he roasted the meat pierced with wooden spits,
the flesh with the honorable back and dark blood
enclosed in the guts, and set it down right there.
Then he stretched out the hides on a rugged rock,
as they are even now, long since then,
long after these events and forever.
His heart delighted, Hermes pulled the rich meat
onto a smooth, flat stone and cut twelve portions
divided by lot, setting out each perfect prize.
Glorious Hermes craved the offering of meat, 130
for the sweet scent rubbed at him—him a god!—
but his manly spirit could not persuade him,
despite his great desire to shove it down his sacred throat.
Instead, he set all the meat and fat in the cave,
quickly lifting them up high in midair,
a sign of his recent theft. Then, heaping on dry wood,
he destroyed the hooves and heads in the fire’s breath.
When he had finished everything according to its need,
the god threw his sandals into the deep-eddying Alpheos,
quenched the embers, and sanded smooth the black ashes 140
through the night, as the lovely light of Selene shone down.
He quickly returned to the shining peak of Kyllene
at dawn. During his long journey no one met him,
none of the blessed gods, no mortal men,
nor did dogs bark. Swift Hermes, son of Zeus,
turning sideways entered through the keyhole of his house,
like a late summer breeze, even as mist.
Going straight through the cave, he walked softly
into the rich temple, with no usual sounds on the floor.
In haste, glorious Hermes climbed into his cradle. 150
Wrapping his swaddling clothes around his shoulders
like a newborn, he lay fingering the cloth about his knees,
keeping the lovely tortoise to the left of his hand.
But the god did not escape the notice of his goddess mother:
“Where have you been, you trickster, coming here
at night wrapped in shamelessness? Now I truly believe
that soon, bound by Leto’s son with unbreakable chains
around your ribs, you’ll leave through these doors,
or, meanwhile, you’ll be a thief who raids mountain glens.
Away again! Your father bore you to be a great pest 160
for mortal men and immortal gods.”
Hermes answered her with cunning words:
“Oh mother, why put these things to me
as if to a newborn, whose heart scarce knows evil,
who cowers in fear, behind its mother’s scoldings?
I’ll practice whatever art is best to serve
you and me forever. And the two of us
won’t put up with staying here, as you insist,
the only immortal gods with no gifts and no food.
Far better to chat every day among the gods, 170
rich, really rich, with grain crops aplenty,
than to sit at home in a misty cave. As for honor,
I too will receive the same holy rites as Apollo.
If my father won’t give them to me,
then I’ll become the prince of thieves—watch me.
If Leto’s famous son tracks me down,
I think he’s got something bigger coming:
I’ll go to Pytho and break into his great house.
There, I’ll swipe many splendid tripods,
cauldrons and gold, plenty of flashing iron 180
and heaps of clothing: you’ll see, if you want.”
With such words they spoke together,
the son of Zeus, who holds the aegis, and Queen Maia.
Early-born Dawn, bringing light to mortals,
rose from deep-flowing Ocean. But Apollo
came to Onchestos to the lovely sacred grove
of Poseidon, the Earthshaker. He found an old man
grazing his beast along the path, by the garden fence.
Leto’s famous son began speaking to him:
