Homer (Nagy trans.) - Homeric Hymn to Demeter: Part 1 lyrics

Translated by Gregory Nagy [1] I begin to sing of Demeter, the holy goddess with the beautiful hair. And her daughter [Persephone] too. The one with the delicate ankles, whom Hadēs1 seized. She was given away by Zeus, the loud-thunderer, the one who sees far and wide. Demeter did not take part in this, she of the golden double-axe, she who glories in the harvest. [5] She [Persephone] was having a good time, along with the daughters of Okeanos, who wear their waistbands slung low. She was picking flowers: roses, crocus, and beautiful violets. Up and down the soft meadow. Iris blossoms too she picked, and hyacinth. And the narcissus, which was grown as a lure for the flower-faced girl by Gaia [Earth]. All according to the plans of Zeus. She [Gaia] was doing a favor for the one who receives many guests [Hadēs]. [10] It [the narcissus] was a wondrous thing in its splendor. To look at it gives a sense of holy awe to the immortal gods as well as mortal humans. It has a hundred heads growing from the root up. Its sweet fragrance spread over the wide skies up above. And the earth below smiled back in all its radiance. So too the churning ma** of the salty sea. [15] She [Persephone] was filled with a sense of wonder, and she reached out with both hands to take hold of the pretty plaything.2 And the earth, full of roads leading every which way, opened up under her. It happened on the Plain of Nysa. There it was that the Lord who receives many guests made his lunge. He was riding on a chariot drawn by immortal horses. The son of Kronos. The one known by many names. He seized her against her will, put her on his golden chariot, [20] And drove away as she wept. She cried with a piercing voice, calling upon her father [Zeus], the son of Kronos, the highest and the best. But not one of the immortal ones, or of human mortals, heard her voice. Not even the olive trees which bear their splendid harvest. Except for the daughter of Persaios, the one who keeps in mind the vigor of nature. [25] She heard it from her cave. She is Hekatē, with the splendid headband. And the Lord Helios [Sun] heard it too, the magnificent son of Hyperion. They heard the daughter calling upon her father, the son of Kronos. But he, all by himself, was seated far apart from the gods, inside a temple, the precinct of many prayers. He was receiving beautiful sacrificial rites from mortal humans. [30] She was being taken, against her will, at the behest of Zeus, by her father's brother, the one who makes many sēmata, the one who receives many guests, the son of Kronos, the one with many names. On the chariot drawn by immortal horses. So long as the earth and the star-filled sky were still within the goddess's [Persephone's] view, as also the fish-swarming sea [pontos], with its strong currents, [35] as also the rays of the sun, she still had hope that she would yet see her dear mother and that special group, the immortal gods. For that long a time her great noos was soothed by hope, distressed as she was. The peaks of mountains resounded, as did the depths of the sea [pontos], with her immortal voice. And the Lady Mother [Demeter] heard her. [40] And a sharp akhos seized her heart. The headband on her hair she tore off with her own immortal hands and threw a dark cloak over her shoulders. She sped off like a bird, soaring over land and sea, looking and looking. But no one was willing to tell her the truth [etētuma], [45] not one of the gods, not one of the mortal humans, not one of the birds, messengers of the truth [etētuma]. Thereafter, for nine days did the Lady Demeter wander all over the earth, holding torches ablaze in her hands. Not once did she take of ambrosia and nectar, sweet to drink, [50] in her grief, nor did she bathe her skin in water. But when the tenth bright dawn came upon her, Hekatē came to her, holding a light ablaze in her hands. She came with a message, and she spoke up, saying to her: "Lady Demeter, bringer of hōrai, giver of splendid gifts, [55] which one of the gods who dwell in the sky or which one of mortal humans seized Persephone and brought grief to your philos thumos? I heard the sounds, but I did not see with my eyes who it was. So I quickly came to tell you everything, without error." So spoke Hekatē. But she was not answered [60] by the daughter [Demeter] of Rhea with the beautiful hair. Instead, she [Demeter] joined her [Hekatē] and quickly set out with her, holding torches ablaze in her hands. They came to Hēlios, the seeing-eye of gods and men. They stood in front of his chariot-team, and the resplendent goddess asked this question: "Helios! Show me respect [aidōs], god to goddess, if ever [65] I have pleased your heart and thumos in word or deed. It is about the girl born to me, a sweet young seedling, renowned for her beauty, whose piercing cry I heard resounding through the boundless aether, as if she were being forced, though I did not see it with my eyes. I turn to you as one who ranges over all the earth and sea [pontos] [70] as you look down from the bright aether with your sunbeams: tell me without error whether you have by any chance seen my philon child, and who has taken her away from me by force, against her will, and then gone away? Tell me which one of the gods or mortal humans did it." So she spoke. And the son of Hyperion answered her with these words: [75] "Daughter of Rhea with the beautiful hair, Queen Demeter! You shall know the answer, for I greatly respect you and feel sorry for you as you grieve over your child, the one with the delicate ankles. No one else among all the immortals is responsible [aitios] except the cloud-gatherer Zeus himself, who gave her to Hadēs as his beautiful wife. So he gave her to his own brother. And he [Hadēs], heading for the misty realms of darkness, [80] seized her as he drove his chariot and as she screamed out loud. But I urge you, goddess: stop your loud cry of lamentation: you should not have an anger without bounds, all in vain. It is not unseemly to have, of all the immortals, such a son-in-law as Hadēs, the one who makes many sēmata. [85] He is the brother [of Zeus], whose seed is from the same place. And as for timē, he has his share, going back to the very beginning, when the three-way division of inheritance was made.3 He dwells with those whose king he was destined by lot to be."4 So saying, he shouted to his horses, and they responded to his command as they swiftly drew the speeding chariot, like long-winged birds. [90] And she [Demeter] was visited by grief [akhos] that was even more terrifying than before: it makes you think of the Hound of Hadēs. In her anger at the one who is known for his dark clouds, the son of Kronos, she shunned the company of gods and lofty Olympus. She went away, visiting the cities of humans, with all their fertile landholdings, shading over her appearance, for a long time. And not one of men, [95] looking at her, could recognize her. Not one of women, either, who are accustomed to wear their waistbands low-slung.5 Until, one day, she came to the house of bright-minded Keleos, who was at that time ruler of Eleusis, fragrant with incense.6 She sat down near the road, sad in her philon heart, at the well called Parthenion [the Virgin's Place], where the people of the polis7 used to draw water. [100] She sat in the shade, under the thick growth of an olive tree, looking like an old woman who had lived through many years and who is deprived of giving childbirth and of the gifts of Aphrodite, lover of garlands in the hair. She was like those nursemaids who belong to kings, administrators of themistes, and who are guardians of children in echoing palaces. [105] She was seen by the daughters of Keleos, son of Eleusinos, who were coming to get water, easy to draw [from the well], in order to carry it in bronze water-jars to the phila home of their father. There were four of them, looking like goddesses with their bloom of adolescence: Kallidikē, Kleisidikē, and lovely Dēmō. [110] And then there was Kallithoē, who was the eldest of them all. They did not recognize her [Demeter]. Gods are hard for mortals to see. They [the daughters] stood near her and spoke these winged words: "Who are you, and where are you from, old woman, old among old humans? Why has your path taken you far away from the polis? Why have you not drawn near to the palace? [115] There, throughout the shaded chambers, are women who are as old as you are, and younger ones too, who would welcome you in word and in deed." So she spoke.8 And the Lady Goddess spoke with the following words: "Phila children! Whoever women you are among the female kind of humans, [120] I wish you kharis ['I wish you pleasure and happiness from our relationship, starting now']. I shall tell you. It is not unseemly, since you ask, for me to tell you alēthea. Dōsō9 is my name. It was given to me by my honored mother. But that was then. I am from Crete, having traveled over the wide stretches of sea against my will. Without my consent, by biē,by duress, [125] I was abducted by pirates. After a while, sailing with their swift ship, they landed at the harbor of Thorikos. There the ship was boarded by women of the mainland, many of them. They [the pirates] started preparing dinner next to the prow of the beached ship. But my thumos did not yearn for food, that delight of the mind. [130] I stole away and set out to travel over the dark earth of the mainland, fleeing my arrogant captors. This way, I stopped them from drawing any benefit from my worth without having paid the price. That is how I got here, in the course of all my wanderings. And I do not know what this land is and who live here. [135] But I pray to all the gods who abide on Olympus that you be granted vigorous husbands and that you be able to bear children, in accordance with the wishes of your parents. As for me, young girls, take pity. To be honest about it, what I want is for you to name for me a house to go to, the house of someone, man or woman, who has phila children to be taken care of.10 I want to work for them, [140] honestly. The kind of work that is cut out for a female who has outlived others her own age. I could take some newborn baby in my arms, and nourish him well. I could watch over his house. I would make his bed in the inner recesses of well-built chambers, the royal bed. And I could see to a woman's tasks." [145] So spoke the goddess. And she was answered straightaway by the unwed maiden, Kallidikē, the most beautiful of the daughters of Keleos: "Old Mother, we humans endure the gifts the gods give us, even when we are grieving over what has to be.11 They [the gods] are, after all, far better than we are. What I now say will be clear advice, and I will name for you [150] the men who have the great control, divinely given, of timē here: the men who stand at the forefront of the dēmos and who protect the citadel of the polis with their wise counsel and their straight dikai. And then there are the wives too: of sound-minded Triptolemos, of Dioklos, of Polyxenos, of faultless Eumolpos as well, [155] of Dolikhos, and of our splendid father [Keleos]. The wives of all of these manage the palace.12 Of these women, not a single one of them, when they first look at you, would deprive you of timē, the way you look, and turn you away from the palace. Rather, they will receive you. For, right now, you look like the gods. [160] If you wish, wait for us, while we go to the palace of our father and tell our mother, Metaneira with the low-slung waistband, all these things from beginning to end, in the hope that she will tell you to come to our house and not to seek out the houses of others.13 She has a treasured son, growing up in the well-built palace. [165] He was born late, after many a prayer for the birth of a son: a great joy to his parents. If you nourish him to grow till he reaches the crossing-point of life, coming of age, I can predict that you will be the envy of any woman who lays eyes on you. That is how much compensation she [Metaneira] would give you in return for raising him." So she [Kallidikē] spoke. And she [Demeter] nodded her a**ent. So they, [170] filling their splendid jars with water, carried it off, looking magnificent. Swiftly they came to the great palace of their father, and quickly they told their mother what they saw and heard.14 And she told them quickly to go and invite her [Demeter] for whatever wages, no limits, and they, much as deer or heifers in the hōra of spring [175] prance along the meadow, satiating their dispositions as they graze on the gra**, so also they, hitching up the folds of their lovely dresses, dashed along the rutted roadway, their hair flowing over their shoulders, looking like crocus blossoms. They found the illustrious goddess sitting near the road, just the way [180] they had left her. Then they led her to the phila palace of their father. She was walking behind them, sad in her philon heart. She was wearing a veil on her head, and a long dark robe [peplos] trailed around the delicate feet of the goddess.15 Straightaway they came to the palace of sky-nurtured16 Keleos. [185] They went through the hall, heading for the place where their mistress, their mother, was sitting near the threshold of a well-built chamber, holding in her lap her son, a young seedling. And they ran over to her side. She [Demeter] in the meantime went over to the threshold and stood on it, with feet firmly planted, and her head reached all the way to the ceiling. And she filled the whole indoors with a divine light. [190] She [Metaneira] was seized by a sense of aidōs, by a holy wonder, by a blanching fear. She [Metaneira] yielded to her [Demeter] the chair on which she was sitting, and she told her to sit down. But Demeter, the bringer of hōrai, the giver of splendid gifts, refused to sit down on the splendid chair, but she stood there silent, with her beautiful eyes downcast, [195] until Iambē, the one who knows what is worth caring about [kednon] and what is not, set down for her a well-built stool, on top of which she threw a splendid fleece.17 On this she [Demeter] sat down, holding with her hands a veil before her face. For a long time she sat on the stool, without uttering a sound, in her sadness. And she made no approach, either by word or by gesture, to anyone. [200] Unsmiling, not partaking of food or drink, she sat there, wasting away with yearning for her daughter with the low-slung waistband, until Iambē,18 the one who knows what is dear and what is not, started making fun. Making many jokes, she turned the Holy Lady's disposition in another direction, making her smile and laugh and have a merry thumos. [205] Ever since, she [Iambē] has been pleasing her [Demeter] with the sacred rites. Then Metaneira offered her [Demeter] a cup, having filled it with honey-sweet wine. But she refused, saying that it was divinely ordained that she not drink red wine. Then she [Demeter] ordered her [Metaneira] to mix some barley and water with delicate pennyroyal, and to give her [Demeter] that potion to drink. [210] So she [Metaneira] made the kukeōn19 and offered it to the goddess, just as she had ordered. The Lady known far and wide as Dēō20 accepted it, for the sake of the hosia.21 Then well-girded Metaneira spoke up in their midst: "Woman, I wish you kharis ['I wish you pleasure and happiness from our relationship, starting now']. I speak this way because I think you are descended not from base parents but from noble ones. You have the look of aidōs in your eyes, [215] and the look of kharis, just as if you were descended from kings, who uphold the themistes. We humans endure the gifts the gods give us, even when we are grieving over what has to be. The yoke has been placed on our neck. But now that you have come here, there will be as many things that they give to you as they give to me. Take this little boy of mine and nourish him. He is late-born, and it was beyond my expectations [220] that the immortals could have given him to me. I prayed many times to have him. If you nourish him to grow till he reaches the crossing-point of life, coming of age, I can predict that you will be the envy of any woman who lays eyes on you. That is how much compensation I [Metaneira] would give you in return for raising him." Then Demeter, with the beautiful garlands in her hair, addressed her: [225] "Woman, I wish you kharis back, and then some. May the gods give you good things. With positive intentions, I will take your little boy as you tell me to. I will nourish him, and I do not expect that, through the inadvertence of her nursemaid, he would perish from a pestilence or from the Undercutter.22 I know an antidote23 that is far more powerful than the Woodcutter;24 [230] I know a genuine remedy for the painful pestilence." Having so spoken, she took the child to her fragrant bosom, in her immortal hands. And the mother [Metaneira] rejoiced in her mind. [233] And so it came to pa** that the splendid son of bright-minded Keleos, [234] Dēmophōn, who was born to the one with the beautiful waist, Metaneira, [235] was nourished in the palace, and he shot up [anedrame] equal [īsos] to a superhuman force [daimōn], [236] not eating grain, not s**ing from the breast. But Demeter [237] used to anoint him with ambrosia, as if he had been born of the goddess, [238] and she would breathe down her sweet breath on him as she held him to her bosom. [239] At nights she would conceal him within the power source [menos] of fire, as if he were a smoldering log, [240] and his dear [philoi] parents were kept unaware. But they marveled [241] at how full in bloom he came to be, and to look at him was like looking at the gods.26 Now Demeter would have made him ageless and immortal if it had not been for the heedlessness of well-girded Metaneira, who went spying one night, leaving her own fragrant bedchamber, [245] and caught sight of it [what Demeter was doing]. She let out a shriek and struck her two thighs,27 afraid for her child. She had made a big mistake in her thumos. Weeping, she spoke these winged words: "My child! Demophon! The stranger, this woman, is making you disappear in a ma** of flames! This is making me weep in lamentation [goos]. This is giving me baneful anguish!"