The homeric hymns, p.6

The Homeric Hymns, page 6

 

The Homeric Hymns
Select Voice:
Brian (uk)
Emma (uk)  
Amy (uk)
Eric (us)
Ivy (us)
Joey (us)
Salli (us)  
Justin (us)
Jennifer (us)  
Kimberly (us)  
Kendra (us)
Russell (au)
Nicole (au)


1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16

Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

  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:

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
Add Fast Bookmark
Load Fast Bookmark
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Turn Navi On
Scroll Up
Turn Navi On
Scroll
Turn Navi On
183