between the rock and the cold, cold sea

Shield of Heracles

Or she of such a kind who, forsaking the house and land of her fathers,
Went to Thebes after Ares-devoted Amphitryon:
Alkmene, the daughter of nation-stirring Elektryon.
She who among women surpassed the female tribe
In form and in stature: and no one of those who
Mortals bore, after lying with mortals, matched her in wit.
And from her head and from her blue-black eyes
Such stuff wafted as that which [comes] from gold-rich Aphrodite.
And she also paid honour to her husband according to her own spirit
That no one among mortal women paid yet.
Now he killed her brave father by violence, overpowering [him],
For he was angry on account of the oxen: and leaving the land of his fathers
For Thebes, he approached the shield-bearing Kadmeians as a supplicant.
There he dwelled in a house together with his spouse – who deserves reverence –
Very far apart from delightful love: nor was it [permitted] for him
To mount upon the bed of the beautiful-ankled daughter of Elektryon until
He should revenge the murder of his spouse’s great-spirited siblings,
And [until] he should burn up in raging fire the unwalled villages
Of those hero-men, the Taphians and the Teleboans.
So it was ordered for him, and the gods were witnesses upon it:
And he regarded their wrath with awe and dread, and he was driven on
To swiftly bring to completion the great deed, which was a decree for him from Zeus.
With him, longing for the battle-din of war, followed
Horse-driving Boiotians who draw breath for the sake of [their] shields,
Lokrians who fight closely hand-to-hand, and great-spirited Phokaians:
The noble child of Alkaios went with these,
Bearing himself proudly among the army. But the father of men and gods
Wove between his breasts another plan, to beget for gods
And for labouring men, a defender against ruin.
He arose from Olympos, brooding over cunning in his breasts,
Desiring the love of a well-girdled woman
In the night: And quickly he went to Typhaonion. From there
Counselor Zeus ascended to highest Phikion.
Sitting there, he plotted a god-wrought deed:
That night he would bed the wife of Elektryon – with her tapered ankles –
And join with her in desire, and accomplish his wish.
In that same night, nation-stirring Amphitryon, shining hero,
Having fulfilled his great deed, arrived at his own house.

To Aphrodite

Then she answered him, Aphrodite daughter of Zeus:

“Anchises, noblest of death-doomed mortals,
Be of good courage and fear nothing much in your guts,
For you have no reason to fear to suffer anything evil from me,
Nor from the other blessed ones: since you’re loved by the gods.
You will have a beloved son, who will be lord among the Trojans,
And children with be born to his children forever:
And his name will be Aineias, on account of the dread anguish I bore myself,
Because I fell down upon the bed of a mortal man.
Those from your stock/kindred/race [will be/were] always
Among death-doomed mortals, most like the gods in form and stature.
Indeed, all-wise Zeus carried off fair-haired Ganymede,
For the sake of his beauty, so that he might be among the deathless ones
And so that he might pour out wine for the gods all through the house of Zeus,
Wondrous to see, honoured by all the deathless ones
As he draws red nectar from out of the golden mixing-bowl.
But unceasing grief possessed Tros in his guts, for he did not know
To where the god-inspired whirlwind had carried off his beloved son:
And afterwards [after Ganymede was carried off] he lamented him unceasingly every day,
And Zeus pitied him, and give him compensation for his son –
High-stepping horses, [the ones that] bear the deathless ones,
He gave these, a gift, to him: and the Argus-slayer, guide [Hermes],
Told him everything in exact detail, by Zeus’s command,
How he [Ganymede] would be immortal and undecaying, equal to the gods.
And so when he heard all the tidings from Zeus,
Then he [Tros] no longer wept, but he rejoiced in his spirits within,
And joyfully he mounted the storm-footed horses.
And in this way again golden-throned Dawn carried off Tithonos,
Of your lineage, similar to the undying ones.
She went down, begging the cloud-dark son of Kronos
[That he might] be undying and [that he might] live forever.
For her, Zeus nodded assent, and ordained her desire.

To Aphrodite

And he cast desire – sweet to the taste – for Anchises into her heart,
Anchises who then in the high hills of many-fountained Ida
Was grazing his cattle, his living body like the immortals.
When she saw him, laughter-loving Aphrodite
Passionately desired him, and terrible yearning seized her in her guts.
And thereupon she went to Kypros, to Paphos, she plunged into her incense-fragrant temple:
There where her sacred precinct and her incense-fragrant altar are.
And going in there, she shut the shining doors,
And there the Graces bathed her and anointed her with ambrosial oil,
Such [oil] as dews the gods, who exist eternally, sweet immortal [oil],
Filled with sweet smells, it belonged to her.
And when she had clothed her skin well with all her fine garments,
And adorned herself with gold, laughter-loving Aphrodite
Forsook fragrant Kypros and made haste to Troy,
Swiftly passing along a road aloft among the clouds.
She came to many-fountained Ida, mother of wild beasts,
And she went straight to the farmstead across the hill. And after her, paying court,
Went grizzled wolves and fierce lions,
Nimble bears and leopards that deer cannot sate.
When she saw them her spirit delighted within her,
And she put desire into their breasts, and at once
They all lay down in pairs upon shady dens.
And she arrived at the well-wrought dwellings,
And she found him, after he’d remained behind alone at farmsteads far from other [people],
The hero Anchises, who had beauty from the gods.
The [others] were all following cattle across the grassy pastures,
And since he was left alone in the lodgings far from others,
He rambled here and there, playing loudly on the kithara.
She stood before him, Aphrodite daughter of Zeus,
With her shape and form like an unmarried [mortal] girl,
Lest he, when he beheld her with his eyes, be afraid.
And Anchises when he saw her, observed and admired
Her form and shape and her glittering garments,
For she wore a most radiant robe like fiery sunlight,
Fine and golden and embroidered all over: and as the moon
Shone on her breasts – soft to the touch – [she was] a wonder to behold.
And she had winding twisted ornaments, shining ones,
And very fine chains wound around her tender throat.
Eros seized Anchises, and facing her he gave voice to speech:


“Hail, Queen, whichever you may be of the blessed ones who’s come to these houses,
Artemis or Leto or golden Aphrodite,
Or noble-minded Themis, or gleaming-eyed Athena,
Or maybe you come here as one of the Graces, those who
Are companions to all the gods, and who are called deathless,
Or one of the Nymphs who dwell in fair groves,
Or one of the Nymphs who dwell about this fine hill
And its river-streams and grassy meadows.
I’ll make you an altar on the highest place,
Visible in the country for miles around,
And I’ll perform fine sacrifices in every season.
Since you have a gracious spirit,
Grant [that I may] be a very distinguished man among the Trojans,
And grant [that I may] make hereafter strong seed,
And that [I may] myself live long and well to see the light of the sun,
And [to be] blessed with riches among people, and [that I may] come to the threshold of old age.”

Then Aphrodite daughter of Zeus answered him:

“Anchises, noblest of earth-born mortals,
Mark you I’m no god: why do you compare me to the deathless ones?
I’m mortal, and a mortal woman mother bore me.
Otreus of famous name is my father – perhaps you know him by repute –
Who’s lord over all well-walled Phrygia,
And I know well your tongue and ours,
For a nurse from Troy’s halls reared me:
She tended me right from when I was a small child,
Taking me by the hand with a mother’s love.
So indeed I know your tongue well.
But now the Argus-slayer, golden-wanded, carried me off
From the dance of golden-distaffed loud-sounding Artemis,
And the many maidens and girls – whose parents are courted with oxen –
I danced with, and the boundless crowd [that was] all around:
From there the gold-wanded slayer of Argus carried me off:
And he carried me over many fields of death-doomed mortals,
And much [that was] ownerless and untilled, where creatures
That eat raw flesh roam about down shaded streambeds,
And I did not expect to touch the life-giving earth with my feet [again].
He promised that I would be called a lawful spouse
In Anchises’ marriage-bed, and that I would bear you splendid children,
And when he told [me this] and pointed [you] out, the mighty Argus-slayer
Went away again in search of the tribe of the undying ones,
But I came to you as a suppliant, for it is a strong compulsion for me.
I implore you, by Zeus and by [your] noble ancestors –
For no ignoble ones would bring forth any one like you –
When you take me, an unwedded girl with no experience of [the act of love],
Show me to your mother who has known [you] well,
And to your kindred brothers, full-brothers of the same parents.
I won’t be a shameful marriage-relative to them, but a befitting one.
Send a messenger quickly into Phrygia of swift steeds,
To tell my father and my grieving mother:
They’ll send [back] an abundance of gold and woven cloth,
And you’ll receive many and splendid ransoms.
And after you do these things, give a feast for a passionate wedding,
Paying honour to mortals and to the deathless gods.”

And so saying, the goddess cast sweet yearning into his spirit,
And Eros seized Anchises, and he spoke speech and uttered words:

“If you are a mortal, and a mortal woman mother bore you,
And Otreus is your father – of famous name – as you proclaim,
And you have come to this place here by the aid of Hermes, undying minister,
You will be called my bedfellow for all days:
And in that case no god nor any death-doomed mortal
Will hold me back in this place until I’m united with you in desire
Right away now: not if the far-darter Apollo himself
Were to let loose a dreadful arrow from his silver bow.
I would wish then, woman befitting a goddess,
After I mounted your marriage bed, that I’d sink into Hades’ house.”

And so saying, he took her hand: and laughter-loving Aphrodite
Stirred, and turning around under [his] fair eyes,
Cast [herself] on the bed well-spread with cloths,
Where she was helpless for the lord in soft mantles, being spread out.
There in the upper parts the skins of bears and loud-roaring lions were laid,
The ones he’d slain in the lofty hills.

To Aphrodite

Nor are the works of Aphrodite pleasing to Hestia,
A modest girl, the one crooked-counselling Kronos brought forth
As firstborn and lastborn both: by the will of aegis-bearing Zeus
A queen that both Poseidon and Apollo wooed.
But she really didn’t want them. Instead she firmly denied them,
And, grasping the head of her father, aegis-bearing Zeus,
She swore a great oath – which has been fulfilled! –
To be a maiden among the goddesses for all her days.
Instead of a wedding, Father Zeus gave her noble gifts
And she took her seat in the middle of the household – having won the best part.
She has honour in all the temples of the gods,
And in the households of all mortals – the ones who bleed from their wounds –
She was made the most important of gods.
Aphrodite cannot persuade or deceive the hearts of these.
But there is no other who’s escaped her,
Not among the blessed gods, nor among death-doomed mortals.
She even makes thunder-delighting Zeus senseless,
Who’s mightiest of the mighty and who claims honour as his due.

This is more than two hundred lines long, so I'll be taking it in slow stages.

To Aphrodite

Tell me, Muses, of the works of Aphrodite rich in gold,
The Cyprian, who calls forth for the gods sweet-tasting desire
And overpowers the tribes of death-doomed mortals,
And heaven-fallen birds of prey, and all the beasts,
All those the land breeds and the sea contains:
For the deeds of well-crowned Kythereia concern all.

To Dionysos


I will call to mind Dionysos, son of Semele of great renown,
How he appeared beside the shore of the barren sea,
On an out-thrust headland, like young mortal man
In youthful prime. Round [his head] his long fine dark-glossy hair
Stood in disarray, and around his sturdy shoulders he bore a wide red
Cloak. Then soon swift plunderers, men, Tyrsenians, from
A well-benched ship came into sight upon the wine-dark sea:
An ill doom led them on. Seeing him [Dionysos]
They signalled to one another, and they leapt upon [him] hastily.
And as soon as they had seized him,
They [re-embarked] on their own ship, glad at heart,
For they thought he was the son of Zeus-fostered kings,
And they meant to hold him fast in painful imprisonment.
But the bonds did not hold him, and the withies fell away
From his hands and his feet: and with his steel-blue-dark eyes
He sat grinning. And the helmsman, when he noticed [this],
Immediately called to his companions and exclaimed:
“God-maddened ones! What mighty god here did you, seizing [him],
Put in chains? Not even [our] well-wrought ship can carry him off as plunder.
Is this Zeus or Apollo of the silver bow,
or Poseidon? For [he is] not like death-doomed mortals who bleed from their wounds
but [rather like] gods, they who have Olympian halls.
But come! We should set him free on the black plain
At once. Don’t lay hands on [him], lest he, being angered
Might call forth against [us] grievous winds and mighty tempests.”
So he spoke. But [his] leader rebuked him with a loathesome word:

“God-maddened one, look to the fair wind, and hoist the ship’s sails,
When you take hold of all the rigging: the men will take care of this one here.
I suppose he means to reach Egypt or Cyprus,
Or the North-Beyond-the-North, or even farther off: but ultimately
He will speak of his friends and all his property
And his own brothers, since a god let him fall to us.”

Speaking thus, he hoisted the ship’s mast and sail,
And the wind swelled the sail’s centre, and they drew tight
The rigging. But soon marvelous-strange works appeared to them.
First of all, fragrant wine, sweet to drink, gushed out alongside the swift black ship,
And a divine odour stirred,
And astonishment took hold of every sailor who saw.
And presently at the highest point across the sail
A wild vine spread out - now here, now there - and many grapes hung suspended.
And black ivy wound itself round the mast,
Blooming with flowers, and on it awakened fine fruit.
And all the oar-pins bore crowns. And when they [the sailors] saw [this],
They ordered the helmsman – right then! – to bring the ship
To land, but he [Dionysos] became a terrible lion right there in the ship,
On the foremost part of the bow, and he roared loudly, and in the [ship’s] waist
Making portents appear, he produced a shaggy-rough-necked bear,
And he made it stand in fury, all the while in the bow
The terrible lion looked grimly on: and they [the sailors] were put to flight into the stern,
And they stopped the helmsman – a man who had a spirit with self-control –
For they were driven from their senses. Suddenly springing
At the leader, he [Dionysos] killed him, and they [the sailors] all together
Leapt overboard, escaping an ill doom. And when they looked in the divine salt sea
They became dolphins. But he [Dionysos] kept back the helmsman,
Showing mercy to him, and he made for him every blessing, and he spoke a word:

“Be of good courage, heavenly [leader?], since you are pleasing to my spirit.
I am loud-roaring Dionysos, who a mother bore –
[She was] Kadmeian Semele – after having sexual intercourse in affection with Zeus.”

Hail, child of well-regarded Semele! He who
Forgets you is in no way able to adorn sweet song.

To Selene

Tell [me] to sing of the broad-winged moon, sweet-speaking Muses,
Daughters of Kronos’s son Zeus, right judges of song:
Far from earth the heaven-shown radiance of her head – sprung from an immortal –
Circles, and great ornament awakens beneath her
Shining lustre: and the unlit haze glistens
Under a golden crown, and brightness lingers
Whenever far-shining Selene, divine like Zeus,
Having bathed her noble skin in Ocean and having wrapped herself in garments
And having harnessed resplendent young horses with proud-arched necks
Should drive the fine-maned horses eagerly forward,
west, at the full moon. And her vast furrow swells,
And the brightest light then comes into being, down from heaven
While she rises high. And she is ordained as a fixed mark for mortals (who bleed from their wounds), a sign.
With her once in affection – and also the marriage-bed – the son of Kronos had sexual intercourse,
And she, after she conceived, brought forth the girl Pandeia,
Who among the deathless gods stood out as having great beauty.
Hail, lady, white-armed goddess, Selene divine like Zeus,
Gracious and fine of hair: and now I’ve begun with the fame of your light,
I will sing of the demigods, whose deeds singers – the Muses’ loyal comrades –
Will make famous from their desire-filled mouths.

---

A bit complex, that one.

To Hestia

Hestia, you have as your portion an eternal place
August in honour in the high halls of all the immortals and the gods
And the mortals who come and go upon the ground,
And you possess fine privilege and worthy honour:
For without you there are no feasts for death-doomed mortals,
Where [someone] pours a libation of honey-sweet wine to Hestia
In the first place and in the last.
And you also, Argus-killer, son of Zeus and Maia,
Herald of the blessed ones, gold-wanded granter of good fortune,
As you are gracious, succour me together with your modest friend.
Dwell in fine halls, since you know friendship in your hearts for one another
For you both, since you have known the fair deeds of mortals on the dark earth,
Follow [them] with purpose and with vigour.
Hail, daughter of Kronos, and you also, gold-wanded Hermes:
I for my part will remember you both and also another [god] in song.

To Artemis


I sing Artemis, her spindle gold, fearful-exhorting,
Honoured and unwed, who hunts the deer and pours out arrows like rain,
Full-sister to Apollo of the golden blade:
She who down wooded hill-slope and over wind-stirred mountain peaks
Delighting in the hunt, draws her all-golden bow to full stretch,
and sends forth grievous arrows: the peaks
Of lofty mountains tremble, and the thick-shaded woodland resounds in dread
with the clamour of wild beasts, and the earth
And the fish-abounding sea both shiver in a holy awe.
She, possessed of a valiant heart,
Goes back and forth on all sides killing the offspring of beasts,
And when she has had her fill, the beast-scouter, arrow-pourer,
Glad at heart, slackening her well-bent bow,
She comes to the great hall of her well-loved true brother,
Phoibos Apollo, in the abundant land of Delphi,
Where she will set in order his noble chorus of Muses and Graces.
There, hanging up her back-bent bow and her arrows,
Since she has good order, she leads the graceful [ones], close-arrayed,
And begins the dances. And they, uttering divine voice
Celebrate fine-ankled Leto in hymn, how she brought forth children
Outstanding and noble among the immortals in deed and counsel.
Hail, children of Zeus and fine-haired Leto!
I for my part will remember both of you and another also in song.

To the Muses and to Apollo

I'll begin with the Muses, with Apollo and with Zeus:
For thanks to the Muses and far-shooting Apollo
Men may be singers on the earth, and kithara-players,
And thanks to Zeus they may be kings: he’s lucky, he whom the Muses
Cherish: sweet-tasting speech flows from his mouth.
Hail, children of Zeus! Honour my song,
And I in turn will remember you, and another also by song.