Modern Greek Aesthetes - Second Part

Νικόλαος Επισκοπόπουλος ΔΙΑΓΟΡΑΣ - Πίνδαρος 7ος Πυθιόνικος

Lecture in Rome for the Paideia Institute Fellows

15th April 2018

Εἰκὼν

Οἱ στέφανοι τῆς ἀγριελαίας ἔστιλβον εἰς τὸν ἥλιον ἐπὶ τῆς χρυσελεφαντίνης τραπέζης τοῦ Κολώτου παρὰ τὸν ὑψηλὸν βωμόν, τὸν τεφρόκτιστον.

Ὁ κῆρυξ ἀνὰ ἓν ἀνεκήρυσσε τὰ ὀνόματα μὲ φωνὴν δονοῦσαν τὰ πεῦκα καὶ οἱ Ἑλλανοδίκαι μὲ τὰς ἐρυθρὰς περιβολὰς ἔστεφον τοὺς νικητάς.

Καὶ εἰς ἕκαστον ἀντηχοῦν ὄνομα, εἰς ἑκάστην πατρίδα, αἱ ζητωκραγαὶ τοῦ πλήθους γύρω ἐλύοντο οὐρανομήκεις, ὁ δὲ νικητὴς ἀνηρπάζετο ὑπὸ τῶν πλουσίων θεωρῶν τῆς ἰδίας πατρίδος ὑπὸ τὸν ἦχον τῶν φορμίγγων καὶ τῶν αὐλῶν, τῶν δοξολογούντων τὰ γυμνὰ σώματα, τοὺς μῦς τοὺς σιδηροῦς, τὴν ῥώμην τὴν ἀνίκητον…

Ὁ ἥλιος εἶχεν ἀνέλθει ἀπὸ τῆς κοίτης τοῦ Ἀλφειοῦ καὶ ὄπισθεν τῆς Ποικίλης Στοᾶς ἀκόμη, ἐξαπέστελλε καὶ αὐτὸς χρυσᾶς ζητωκραυγὰς καὶ ἔχυνε μίαν ἑορτὴν φωτὸς ἐπὶ τῆς πλημμύρας τοῦ μαρμάρου, τὸ ὁποῖον ἀνέδυσε λευκὸν ἢ ποικιλόχρωμον ἐν μέσῳ τῆς ὀργώσης βλαστήσεως τῶν πεύκων καὶ τῶν σχοίνων.

Ἀπὸ τὸν λόφον τοῦ Κρονίου, μὲ τὰς ἀπείρους ἀποχρώσεις τοῦ πληθυσμοῦ τῶν δένδρων του, μὲ τὰ χίλια πράσινά του, μὲ τὰ ἄσυλα τὰ παραδείσια, μὲ τὴν φυτικὴν σιωπὴν τὴν ἐπίσημον, ὁ πρωϊνὸς ἀὴρ διυλίζετο καὶ ἤρχετο ζείδωρος, ἀρωματώδης, αἰθερίως καθαρός.

Μεταξὺ τῶν παιγνίων τοῦ βρύου, τοῦ μεταξίνου καὶ δαντελωτοῦ, μεταξὺ τῶν σχοίνων τῶν καταπρασίνων, τὰ ὁποία κατῴκουν τὴν Ἄλτιν, τὰ ἀετώματα τῶν ναῶν ἔφεγγον εἰς τὰ χαιρετίσματα τοῦ φωτός, μὲ τὰ χάλκινα ἀγάλματά των καὶ τὰς πτερωτὰς Νίκας εἰς τὰ ἀκρωτήρια.

Τὸ Ἡραῖον ἐκεῖθεν, κουρασμένον ἀπὸ τὰ ἔτη, ὕψωνε τοὺς ξυλίνους καὶ μαρμαρίνους κίονάς του ἀναμὶξ ἀπέναντι τοῦ ναοῦ τοῦ Διός, τοὺ ἐκπάγλου καὶ νεάζοντος, μὲ τὴν δόξαν τοῦ λευκοῦ του μαρμάρου, ὅστις ἤγειρεν ἔμπροσθεν τοὺς ἓξ μετωπίους κίονάς του, βεβαρημένους ὑπὸ ἀναθημάτων. Καὶ ἐκ τῆς ὑπερηφανείας τῶν πτερωτῶν Νικῶν, τῶν χαλκῶν, αἱ ὁποῖαι ἐκόσμουν τὰ ἀκρωτήρια, ἐκ τῆς μεγαλοπρεπείας τῶν μετοπῶν, τῶν ἰδεωδῶν, ἐμάντευε τὸν πατέρα τῶν Θεῶν, ὅστις κατῴκει τὸν σηκόν, ἐκεῖ εἰς τὰ βάθη τὰ σκοτεινά.

Καὶ πανταχοῦ αἱ στῆλαι ἀνυψοῦντο ἐν μέσῳ τοῦ πρασίνου· αἱ στῆλαι τοῦ Πελοπείου μεταξὺ τῶν δύο ναῶν· αἱ στῆλαι αἱ δωρικαὶ τοῦ Μητρῴου, ἔπειτα τὰ μάρμαρα τῶν Θησαυρῶν τῶν διαφόρων πόλεων, οἱ κίονες τῆς στοᾶς τῆς Ἠχοῦς τῆς ἀνεγειρομένης πρὸς ἀνατολάς, ὅλος ὁ μαρμάρινος κόσμος τῆς Ἄλτεως, ὅπου ἐδέσποζε ἀόρατον καὶ πανίσχυρον τὸ πνεῦμα τοῦ Διός, ὑπὸ τὸ ὁποῖον ἔφρισσον τὰ δάση καὶ τὰ δένδρα νυχθημερόν.

Καὶ ἔπειτα ἀνωτέρω ἀκόμη, ὑπέροχον, πάνοπτον ἐπὶ τοῦ ὑψηλοῦ βάθρου, τὸ ἱπτάμενον ἀνάθημα τῶν Μεσσηνίων, ἡ Νίκη τοῦ Παιωνίου, ἐτάνυε τὰς ἀερώδεις καὶ ἀθορύβους πτέρυγας εἰς πτῆσιν ἀόρατον καὶ ἰδανικὴν…

Ὑπὸ τὴν χαρὰ τοῦ ἡλίου, ὑπὸ τὸ λευκὸν μειδίαμα τῶν ναῶν, ὁ κῆρυξ ἐξηκολούθει τὴν ἀπαρίθμησην τῶν νικητῶν. Οἱ ἀθληταὶ ἐστεφανοῦντο μὲ τὸν κλάδον τῆς ἀγριελαίας· οἱ ἡνίοχοι ἐκόσμουν τὴν κεφαλὴν διὰ τῆς ταινίας τῆς νίκης· αἱ πλούσιαι Σπαρτιάτιδες, τῶν ὁποίων τὰ ἄρματα ἐνίκησαν παρακάμψαντα τὸν Ταραξίθιππον βωμόν, προσήρχοντο ἀρρενωπαὶ καὶ ἀνερυθρίαστοι ὑπὸ τὰς ζητωκραυγάς, ὅπως λάβωσι τὸν στέφανον.

-Δημάγητος Διαγόρου Ῥόδιος, ἐσάλπισε τοῦ κήρυκος ἡ φωνή.

Καὶ ὁ νικητὴς τῆς πυγμαχίας προσῆλθε δειλὸς ὑπὸ τὴν λευκὴν καὶ εὔρωστον γυμνότητά του, κύπτων τὴν κεφαλὴν ὑπὸ τὴν χεῖρα τοῦ ἑλλανοδίκου.

-Ἀκουσίλαος Διαγόρου Ῥόδιος.

Καὶ τότε αἱ ζητωκραυγαὶ κατέπαυσαν, ὅπως οἱ ὀφθαλμοὶ θαυμάσωσι καλλίτερον τοὺς δύο ἀδελφούς, τοὺς εὐτυχεῖς, τούς μεγάλους ἀπογόνους τῶν Ἐρυτιδῶν, οἱ ὁποῖοι συνέχιζον τὰς νίκας τοῦ πατρός των καὶ τὴν ἀποθέωσιν τῆς πατρίδος των, τῆς νήσου τῆς θαλερᾶς τοῦ Ἡλίου καὶ τῆς Ἠλεκτριώνης, τῆς εὐτυχοῦς νήσου, ἡ ὁποία ὑπερήφανος ἔβλεπε πάντοτε ἐστεμμένα τὰ τέκνα της καὶ ἐξυμνούμενα νὰ ἐπανέρχωνται ἐκ τῶν ἀγώνων.

-Δωριεὺς Διαγόρου Ῥόδιος.

Καὶ ὁ τρίτος ἀδελφός, νικητὴς τοῦ παγκρατίου, ἓν σύμπλεγμα ἡρακλείων μυῶν, ἐπλησίασε πρὸς τὸν τεινόμενον στέφανον.

Ὑπῆρξε τότε μεταξὺ τῶν θεατῶν μία στιγμὴ προσδοκίας.

Ἦτο ἡ πρώτη φορά, καθ`ἣν βλαστοὶ τοῦ αὐτοῦ ὀνόματος ἠδελφοῦντο ἐκ δευτέρου ὑπὸ τὴν ὑψίστην δόξαν τοῦ στεφάνου, πρώτη φορά, καθ᾽ ἣν μία πόλις εὐδαίμων ἀπεθεοῦτο εἰς τὸ πρόσωπον τριῶν συγχρόνως ἐκ τῶν τέκνων της.

Καὶ ὅλων οἱ ὀφθαλμοὶ ἐστράφησαν πρὸς τὸ μέρος τῶν θεωρῶν, οἱ ὁποῖοι ἀμιλλώμενοι διὰ τὸν πλοῦτον, ἐκάθηντο περιστοιχιζόμενοι ὑπὸ πολυαρίθμου ἀκολουθίας, μὲ τὰς χρυσᾶς των ταινίας εἰς τὸ μἐτωπον καὶ ἐδέχοντο τοὺς ἀγωνιστὰς…

Ποῦ ἦτο λοιπὸν ὁ Διαγόρας ; Ποῦ ἦτο ὁ εὐτυχὴς νικητὴς τόσων ἀγώνων, ὅστις, κουρασθεὶς ἀπὸ δόξαν, ἔδιδε τώρα τοὺς στεφάνους εἰς ὅλους του τοὺς ἀπογόνους; Ποῦ ἦτο ὁ ἥρως τῶν Ὀλυμπίων καὶ τῶν Νεμέων καὶ τῶν Πυθίων, τοῦ ὁποῖου εἶχε κυρτωθῆ ἀπὸ τοὺς στεφάνους τῆς ἀγρελαίας καὶ τῆς πιτύος καὶ τοῦ σελίνου ἡ κεφαλὴ καὶ τοῦ ὁποίου τὰ ἔπαθλα δὲν ἀριθμοῦνται πλέον ;

Καὶ ὅταν ὁ γέρων ἀθλητὴς ἄλλης γενεᾶς, μὲ τὴν στολὴν τὴν ἐρυθρὰν καὶ τὴν λευκὴν γενειάδα, ἔσπευσε μὲ νεανικὸν βῆμα πρὸς τὰ τέκνα του τὰ στεφανηφόρα, ὅλα τὰ στόματα ἐζητωκραύγασαν πάλιν καὶ ἡ Ἄλτις ἀντήχησεν ἀπὸ ἐνθουσιασμόν.

Ἦτο αὐτὸς ὁ παλαιὸς νικητής, ὁ ἀπόγονος τοῦ Ἀριστομένους, μὲ τὴν χεῖρα τὴν ἀνίκητον, μὲ τὴν πυγμὴν τὴν ἀκατάβλητον, μὲ τοὺς μῦς τοὺς ἀκάμπτους, τοῦ ὁποῖου ἡ ῥώμη, δεκαπλασιασθεῖσα, ἔσφυζεν εἰς τὰ γυμνά, τὰ δοξασμένα σώματα τῶν υἱῶν.

Οἱ Ἑλλανοδίκαι ἔκυψαν τότε τὰς ῥάβδους καὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν πρὸ τοῦ πλησιάζοντος γέροντος, καὶ τὰ χρυσᾶ μέτωπα τῶν θεωρῶν ἔκλιναν πρὸς τὰ κάτω καὶ ὁ λαὸς ὅλος ἐσίγησε πάλιν, ἀπὸ δὲ τοῦ Κρονίου λόφου, αἱ πίτυες καὶ τὰ πεῦκα σιγηλά, χωρὶς θροῦν, ἔτεινον τὰς κορυφὰς πρὸς τὸν γηραιὸν νικητήν.

Μία φρικίασις δόξης καὶ ἀποθεώσεως ἐπέρνα εἰς τὸν ἀέρα.

Καὶ ὅταν ὁ πατὴρ ἐπλησίασεν, οἱ τρεῖς πανίσχυροι ἀγωνισταί, οἱ νικηταῖ τῆς πυγμῆς καὶ τῆς πάλης καὶ τοῦ παγκρατίου ἐταπείνωσαν τὰς παρθένους των κεφαλάς καὶ ἀφῄρεσαν ἐξ αυτῶν τοὺς στεφάνους, ἀπὸ μίαν ἰδίαν σκέψιν.

Ποῖος ἄλλος λοιπὸν θὰ ἠδύνατο νὰ εἷνε ἐκεῖ νικητὴς τριπλοῦς, παρὰ αὐτὸς ὅστις τοὺς ἐχάρισε τὸ αἷμα του καὶ τοὺς μῦς του, ὁ ὁποῖος τοῖς ἐνεφύσησεν εἰς τὴν σάρκα τὴν δύναμιν, ὁ ὁποῖος τοῖς παρεχώρησεν ὡς κληρονομίαν τὴν νίκην ; Ποῖος ἄλλος ἀπὸ αὐτόν, ὅστις καθ᾽ ὅλην τὴν παιδικήν των καὶ ἐφηβικὴν ἡλικίαν ἐπαιδαγώγει τὰς κινήσεις τῶν μελῶν καὶ ἐβοήθησε, εἰς τὴν πεῖραν τόσων νικῶν, τὰς ἀπείρους των στάσεις καὶ τοὺς ἐσκληραγώγει εἰς τὸ γυμναστήριον ὑπὸ τὴν αὐστηρὰν δίαιταν τοῦ χλωροῦ τυροῦ καὶ τῶν ξηρῶν σύκων, δημιουργῶν και περαιώνων τὰς σάρκας τὰς ἰδικάς των κατὰ τὸ ὑπόδειγμα τῶν ἰδικῶν του σαρκῶν ;

Καὶ χωρὶς λέξιν, κινούμενοι καὶ οἱ τρεῖς ἐνστίκτως, ἔθεσαν ἐπὶ τῆς ἐνδόξου λευκῆς κεφαλῆς του τοὺς τρεῖς στεφάνους καὶ ἐπὶ τῶν παρειῶν του τρία φιλήματα.

Ὑπερήφανοι ἔπειτα τὸν ἀνήγειραν εἰς τοὺς γυμνούς, τοὺς ἀκάμπτους ὤμους ἐπιδεικνύοντες αὐτὸν εἰς τὸ πλῆθος ἐν πορείᾳ θριαμβευτικῇ.

Καὶ τότε ἐκ τῆς καρδίας τοῦ Ἕλληνος, τῆς ἀνοιγομένης ὡς εὐρὺ τέμενος τοῦ ὡραίου καὶ τοῦ ὑψηλοῦ, ἀνῆλθον τὰ δάκρυα ἄφθονα. Εἶς ἐνθουσιασμὸς εὐρύς, ἐνθουσιασμὸς φρενίτιδος, μία τάσις διονύσειος, μία φρικίασις ἐξάλλου συγκινήσεως κατέλαβε τὸ πλῆθος.

Ἄνω τῶν λευκῶν χιτώνων καὶ τῶν ποικιλόμορφων ἱματίων, αἱ μυρίαι κεφαλαὶ ἐχαιρέτιζον τὸν νικητήν, ἐνῷ αἱ χεῖρες ἀνυψούμεναι τοῦ ἔρριπτον κλάδους φοινίκων καὶ δράκας ἀνθέων.

Ὅλη ἡ Ἑλλάς, ὁ κόσμος ὁλόκληρος ἐκεῖ, ἀπεθέωνε τὸν γέροντα μὲ κραυγὰς ἐνθουσιασμοῦ.

-Ἀπόθανε, Διαγόρα, ἀφοῦ δὲν δύνασαι νἀναβῇς εἰς τὸν Ὄλυμπον.

Αἱ Σπαρτιάτιδες ἐπλησίαζον καὶ ἔψαυον τὰ κράσπεδα τοῦ πορφυροῦ του ἱματίου, ἐνῷ οἱ παῖδες ὀνειρευόμενοι τὴν δόξαν του προσήγγιζον διὰ νὰ τὸν ῥάνουν μὲ ἄνθη καὶ οἱ γυμνοὶ ἀθληταὶ μελαγχολικοὶ τὸν παρετήρουν μὲ θαυμασμόν.

Καὶ μίαν στιγμὴν τότε, ἐνῷ τὰ δάκρυα κυλιόμενα ἠλάφρωναν ἐκ τῆς ὑπερεκλχειλιζούσης χαρᾶς τὴν καρδίαν του, ὁ Διαγόρας ἐνθυμήθη τὴν ζωήν του τὴν ἔνδοξον, τὰς νίκας τὰς ἰδικὰς του. Εἶδε τὴν ἐποχὴν, ὅταν ὁ Πίνδαρος τὸν ἐξύμνει, ὅταν ὁ ἀνδριὰς ἐτοποθετεῖτο παρὰ τὸ Στάδιον, ὅταν αἱ παρθένοι ηὔχοντο νὰ τὸν ἀποκτήσωσι σύζυγον καὶ αἱ γυναῖκες ἐφθόνουν τὴν μητέρα του. Οἱ ὀφθαλμοὶ τῆς φαντασίας του ἔβλεπον τὰς εἰσόδους του τὰς θριαμβευτικὰς εἰς Ῥόδον, κατὰ τὰς ὁποίας οἱ πολῖται τὸν ἔφερον ἀνὰ τὴν πόλιν έπὶ τῶν τεθρίππων ἀρμάτων μὲ ἵππους λευκοὺς καὶ τὸν ἐνέδυον διὰ πορφύρας καὶ τὸν ἐτίμων ὡς ἰσόθεον.

Οὔτε τὸν ἀριθμὸν τῶν νικῶν του δὲν ἠδύνατο πλέον νἀναπαραστήσῃ καλῶς ἡ φαντασία του. Παρήλαυνον εἰς τὸ πνεῦμά του οἱ τέσσαρες στέφανοι ἐκ πιτύος τῆς Ἰσθμίας καὶ ὁ στέφανος τοῦ κοτίνου τῶν Ὀλυμπιακῶν καὶ οἱ ἀσπίδες αἱ χαλκαῖ, τὰς ὁποίας ἔλαβεν ἐν Πελλήνῃ καὶ Αἰγίνῃ καὶ τῆς Ἀρκαδίας οἱ τρίποδες οἱ χαλκοῖ καὶ τῆς Ἀχαΐας αἱ μάλλιναι χλαῖναι καὶ ὅλα τὰ ἄλλα ἔπαθλα, ὅλοι οἱ ἄλλοι στέφανοι, μὲ τοὺς ὁποίους εἶχε δοξάσει τὸ γένος τῶν Ἐρυτιδῶν καὶ τὴν πόλιν τοῦ Ἡλίου.

Ἡ εὐδαιμονία τὸν ἔπνιξεν ἤδη, σταλάζουσα ἡδονικὴ ὡς ὁ θάνατος εἰς τὴν ψυχήν του. Τὰ τέκνα του ἐσυνέχιζον τώρα τὴν δόξαν τῆς Ῥόδου, οἱ ἐγγονοί του εἰς τὸ γυμναστήριον ὑπέσχοντο νέας νίκας καὶ ἡ θυγάτηρ του Καλλιπάτειρα ἡτοίμαζε νέους ἄνδρας διὰ τὸν στέφανον καὶ τὴν ἀποθέωσιν.

Πόσον ἦτο εὐτυχὴς ὅτι ἡ Νίκη δὲν θὰ ἔφευγε μετὰ τὸν θάνατόν του ἐκ τοῦ οἴκου του, ὅτι ὁλόκληρος ὁμὰς ἀνδρῶν νέων θὰ ἐκληρονόμει καὶ θα μετέδιδεν εἰς αἰῶνας τὸν θησαυρὸν τοῦ κλάδου τῆς ἐλαίας εἰς τὴν γενεάν του.

Καὶ ἐνῷ ἐστηρίζετο ἐπὶ τῶν γυμνῶν ὤμων τῶν τέκνων του, ἐνεθυμήθη τὸν λόγον τοῦ Σπαρτιάτου, ὅστις τοῦ ἔλεγεν ὅτι ἔπρεπε νἀποθάνῃ μετὰ τόσην δόξαν καὶ εὐδαιμονίαν καὶ ἠτένισε διὰ μέσου τῶν κιόνων νοερῶς τὸν μέγαν θεὸν τῆς Ἄλτεως, ζητῶν τὸν θάνατον.

Ὁποία εὐδαιμονία νὰ συνεχίσῃ τὴν ζωήν του πέραν τοῦ τάφου, νὰ κρυβῇ ἀφίνων θέσιν εἰς τὰ νέα σώματα -τώρα ὁπόταν οἱ μῦς ἤρχισαν νὰ παραλύωνται, ὁπόταν τὰ μἐλη κουρασμένα δὲν ἠδύναντο νἀτενίσουν πλέον χαλύβδινα καὶ ὑπερήφανα τὸν ἥλιον…

Ὑπὸ τὰ ἄνθη καὶ τὴν βροχὴν τῶν φοινίκων τὸ εὐμελὲς σύμπλεγμα τῶν σαρκῶν, τὸ σιδηροῦν δένδρον τὸ ἀνεστραμμένον μὲ τὸν γηραιὸν κορμὸν πρὸς τὰ ἄνω καὶ τοὺς τρεῖς εὐχύμους κλώνους πρὸς τὰ κάτω, ἐβάδιζε θριαμβευτικῶς πρὸς τὸν ναὸν τοῦ Διὸς ὅπου τὸ πλῆθος προεπορεύετο, ὅπως τελέσῃ θυσίας καὶ ὕμνους πρὸ τῶν ἑστιάσεων καὶ τοῦ δείπνου τοῦ πρυτανείου.

Εἰς τὴν εἴσοδον οἱ τρεῖς νικηταὶ ἐσταμάτησαν, ὅπως ἐναποθέσουν μετὰ σεβασμοῦ τὸ ἔνδοξον φορτίον.

Ἐντὸς τοῦ σηκοῦ, ὅπου ὁ ἥλιος δὲν ἐτόλμα νὰ κυττάξῃ ἐν τῆ ἐπισήμῳ σκιᾷ καὶ τῇ σκοτίᾳ, ἀνεφαίνετο συγκεχυμένως ἡ αἴγλη τοῦ Κεραυνίου, μὲ τὰς ἀπαστράψεις τῶν πολυτίμων λίθων, μὲ τὴν λαμπρότητα τοῦ ἐλέφαντος τῶν μελῶν καὶ τοὺς χρυσοῦς ῥύακας τῶν ἐπτυχωμένων ἐνδυμάτων.

Ἐπὶ τοῦ θρόνου μὲ τὸν χρυσοῦν λέοντα καὶ τὸν πόλεμον τῶν Ἀμαζόνων, ὁ Ζεὺς μὲ τὸ ὕψος τῆς παραστάσεως καὶ τὴν γλυκύτητα τῆς μορφῆς ἐφαίνετο ὡς τὸ σύμβολον τῆς ἀπείρου ἰσχύος καὶ τῆς ἀπείρου ἀγάπης.

… Καὶ ὅταν ὑψούμενος ὑπὸ τῶν ζητοκραυγῶν τοῦ πλήθους καὶ ὑπὸ τῶν βραχιόνων τῶν τέκνων του, εἶδεν ὁ γέρων ἑαυτὸν ὑψηλὸν ὅσον καὶ ὁ Ζεύς, ἡ καρδία του, ἡ σιδηρᾶ εἰς τοὺς ἀγῶνας διερράγη ὡς ὕαλος ἀπὸ τὴν χαράν. Καὶ ἔστρεψεν ἠρέμα πρὸς τὰ ἄνω τὸ πρόσωπον καὶ ἀπέθανε μειδιῶν πρὸς τὸν ἥλιον.

Ὅταν οἱ ὀλυμπιονῖκαι κατεβίβασαν τὸν πατέρα των ἠπίως, ἡ κεφαλὴ τοῦ γέροντος ἀνεστράφη.

Μία ἀντανάκλασις τοῦ προσώπου τοῦ θεοῦ, μία παρομοία αἴγλη ἰσχύος καὶ ἀγάπης ἐφώτιζε καὶ τὸ ἰδικόν του πρόσωπον.

Τότε αἱ ζητωκραυγαὶ ἐσβέσθησαν ὑπὸ τοῦ σεβασμοῦ καὶ ἀπὸ τοῦ Ἀλφειοῦ μέχρι τοῦ Κλαδίου εἰς ὅλον τὸ ζῶν ῥεῦμα, τὸ ὁποῖον ἐπλημμύρει τὴν Ἄλτιν δὲν ἠκούετο ἄλλο, παρὰ ἡ φρικίασις τῶν πευκῶν, αἱ ὁποῖαι ἔστελλον μὲ τὴν αὔραν τὸ αἰώνιον παράπονον τῆς ἀτελοῦς φυσικῆς των ζωῆς.

ΔΙΑΓΟΡΑι ΡΟΔΙΩι ΠΥΚΤΗι

φιάλαν ὡς εἴ τις ἀφνειᾶς ἀπὸ χειρὸς ἑλὼν 
ἔνδον ἀμπέλου καχλάζοισαν δρόσῳ 
δωρήσεται 
νεανίᾳ γαμβρῷ προπίνων οἴκοθεν οἴκαδε, πάγχρυσον κορυφὰν κτεάνων, 
5συμποσίου τε χάριν κᾶδός τε τιμάσαις νέον, ἐν δὲ φίλων 
[10] παρεόντων θῆκέ νιν ζαλωτὸν ὁμόφρονος εὐνᾶς: 
καὶ ἐγὼ νέκταρ χυτόν, Μοισᾶν δόσιν, ἀεθλοφόροις 
ἀνδράσιν πέμπων, γλυκὺν καρπὸν φρενός, 
ἱλάσκομαι, 
10Οὐλυμπίᾳ Πυθοῖ τε νικώντεσσιν: ὁ δ᾽ ὄλβιος, ὃν φᾶμαι κατέχοντ᾽ ἀγαθαί. 
[20] ἄλλοτε δ᾽ ἄλλον ἐποπτεύει Χάρις ζωθάλμιος ἁδυμελεῖ 
θαμὰ μὲν φόρμιγγι παμφώνοισί τ᾽ ἐν ἔντεσιν αὐλῶν. 
καί νυν ὑπ᾽ ἀμφοτέρων σὺν Διαγόρᾳ κατέβαν τὰν ποντίαν 
ὑμνέων παῖδ᾽ Ἀφροδίτας Ἀελίοιό τε νύμφαν, Ῥόδον, 
15εὐθυμάχαν ὄφρα πελώριον ἄνδρα παρ᾽ Ἀλφεῷ στεφανωσάμενον 
[30] αἰνέσω πυγμᾶς ἄποινα 
καὶ παρὰ Κασταλίᾳ, πατέρα τε Δαμάγητον ἁδόντα Δίκᾳ, 
Ἀσίας εὐρυχόρου τρίπολιν νᾶσον πέλας 
ἐμβόλῳ ναίοντας Ἀργείᾳ σὺν αἰχμᾷ. 
20ἐθελήσω τοῖσιν ἐξ ἀρχᾶς ἀπὸ Τλαπολέμου 
ξυνὸν ἀγγέλλων διορθῶσαι λόγον, 
Ἡρακλέος 
[40] εὐρυσθενεῖ γέννᾳ. τὸ μὲν γὰρ πατρόθεν ἐκ Διὸς εὔχονται: τὸ δ᾽ Ἀμυντορίδαι 
ματρόθεν Ἀστυδαμείας. ἀμφὶ δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων φρασὶν ἀμπλακίαι 
25ἀναρίθμητοι κρέμανται: τοῦτο δ᾽ ἀμάχανον εὑρεῖν, 
ὅ τι νῦν ἐν καὶ τελευτᾷ φέρτατον ἀνδρὶ τυχεῖν. 
[50] καὶ γὰρ Ἀλκμήνας κασίγνητον νόθον 
σκάπτῳ θένων 
σκληρᾶς ἐλαίας ἔκταν᾽ ἐν Τίρυνθι Λικύμνιον ἐλθόντ᾽ ἐκ θαλάμων Μιδέας 
30τᾶσδέ ποτε χθονὸς οἰκιστὴρ χολωθείς. αἱ δὲ φρενῶν ταραχαὶ 
παρέπλαγξαν καὶ σοφόν. μαντεύσατο δ᾽ ἐς θεὸν ἐλθών. 
τῷ μὲν ὁ Χρυσοκόμας εὐώδεος ἐξ ἀδύτου ναῶν πλόον 
[60] εἶπε Λερναίας ἀπ᾽ ἀκτᾶς εὐθὺν ἐς ἀμφιθάλασσον νομόν, 
ἔνθα ποτὲ βρέχε θεῶν βασιλεὺς ὁ μέγας χρυσέαις νιφάδεσσι πόλιν, 
35ἁνίχ᾽ Ἁφαίστου τέχναισιν 
χαλκελάτῳ πελέκει πατέρος Αθαναία κορυφὰν κατ᾽ ἄκραν 
ἀνορούσαισ᾽ ἀλάλαξεν ὑπερμάκει βοᾷ: 
[70] Οὐρανὸς δ᾽ ἔφριξέ νιν καὶ Γαῖα μάτηρ. 
τότε καὶ φαυσίμβροτος δαίμων Ὑπεριονίδας 
40μέλλον ἔντειλεν φυλάξασθαι χρέος 
παισὶν φίλοις, 
ὡς ἂν θεᾷ πρῶτοι κτίσαιεν βωμὸν ἐναργέα, καὶ σεμνὰν θυσίαν θέμενοι 
πατρί τε θυμὸν ἰάναιεν κόρᾳ τ᾽ ἐγχειβρόμῳ. ἐν δ᾽ ἀρετὰν 
[80] ἔβαλεν καὶ χάρματ᾽ ἀνθρώποισι Προμαθέος Αἰδώς: 
45ἐπὶ μὰν βαίνει τε καὶ λάθας ἀτέκμαρτα νέφος, 
καὶ παρέλκει πραγμάτων ὀρθὰν ὁδὸν 
ἔξω φρενῶν. 
καὶ τοὶ γὰρ αἰθοίσας ἔχοντες σπέρμ᾽ ἀνέβαν φλογὸς οὔ: τεῦξαν δ᾽ ἀπύροις ἱεροῖς 
[90] ἄλσος ἐν ἀκροπόλει: κείνοις ὁ μὲν ξανθὰν ἀγαγὼν νεφέλαν 
50πολὺν ὗσε χρυσόν: αὐτὰ δέ σφισιν ὤπασε τέχναν 
πᾶσαν ἐπιχθονίων Γλαυκῶπις ἀριστοπόνοις χερσὶ κρατεῖν. 
ἔργα δὲ ζωοῖσιν ἑρπόντεσσί θ᾽ ὁμοῖα κέλευθοι φέρον: 
ἦν δὲ κλέος βαθύ. δαέντι δὲ καὶ σοφία μείζων ἄδολος τελέθει. 
[100] φαντὶ δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων παλαιαὶ 
55ῥήσιες, οὔπω, ὅτε χθόνα δατέοντο Ζεύς τε καὶ ἀθάνατοι, 
φανερὰν ἐν πελάγει Ῥόδον ἔμμεν ποντίῳ, 
ἁλμυροῖς δ᾽ ἐν βένθεσιν νᾶσον κεκρύφθαι. 
ἀπεόντος δ᾽ οὔτις ἔνδειξεν λάχος Ἀελίου: 
καί ῥά μιν χώρας ἀκλάρωτον λίπον, 
60ἁγνὸν θεόν. 
[110] μνασθέντι δὲ Ζεὺς ἄμπαλον μέλλεν θέμεν. ἀλλά νιν οὐκ εἴασεν: ἐπεὶ πολιᾶς 
εἶπέ τιν᾽ αὐτὸς ὁρᾶν ἔνδον θαλάσσας αὐξομέναν πεδόθεν 
πολύβοσκον γαῖαν ἀνθρώποισι καὶ εὔφρονα μήλοις. 
ἐκέλευσεν δ᾽ αὐτίκα χρυσάμπυκα μὲν Λάχεσιν 
65[120] χεῖρας ἀντεῖναι, θεῶν δ᾽ ὅρκον μέγαν 
μὴ παρφάμεν, 
ἀλλὰ Κρόνου σὺν παιδὶ νεῦσαι, φαεννὸν ἐς αἰθέρα νιν πεμφθεῖσαν ἑᾷ κεφαλᾷ 
ἐξοπίσω γέρας ἔσσεσθαι. τελεύταθεν δὲ λόγων κορυφαὶ 
ἐν ἀλαθείᾳ πετοῖσαι. βλάστε μὲν ἐξ ἁλὸς ὑγρᾶς 
70νᾶσος, ἔχει τέ νιν ὀξειᾶν ὁ γενέθλιος ἀκτίνων πατήρ, 
[130] πῦρ πνεόντων ἀρχὸς ἵππων: ἔνθα Ῥόδῳ ποτὲ μιχθεὶς τέκεν 
ἑπτὰ σοφώτατα νοήματ᾽ ἐπὶ προτέρων ἀνδρῶν παραδεξαμένους 
παῖδας, ὧν εἷς μὲν Κάμειρον 
πρεσβύτατόν τε Ἰάλυσον ἔτεκεν Λίνδον τ᾽: ἀπάτερθε δ᾽ ἔχον, 
75διὰ γαῖαν τρίχα δασσάμενοι πατρωίαν, 
[140] ἀστέων μοῖραν, κέκληνται δέ σφιν ἕδραι. 
τόθι λύτρον συμφορᾶς οἰκτρᾶς γλυκὺ Τλαπολέμῳ 
ἵσταται Τιρυνθίων ἀρχαγέτᾳ, 
ὥσπερ θεῷ, 
80μήλων τε κνισσάεσσα πομπὰ καὶ κρίσις ἀμφ᾽ ἀέθλοις. τῶν ἄνθεσι Διαγόρας 
ἐστεφανώσατο δίς, κλεινᾷ τ᾽ ἐν Ἰσθμῷ τετράκις εὐτυχέων, 
[150] Νεμέᾳ τ᾽ ἄλλαν ἐπ᾽ ἄλλα, καὶ κρανααῖς ἐν Ἀθάναις. 
ὅ τ᾽ ἐν Ἄργει χαλκὸς ἔγνω νιν, τά τ᾽ ἐν Ἀρκαδίᾳ 
ἔργα καὶ Θήβαις, ἀγῶνές τ᾽ ἔννομοι 
85Βοιωτίων, 
Πέλλανά τ᾽ Αἴγινά τε νικῶνθ᾽ ἑξάκις. ἐν Μεγάροισίν τ᾽ οὐχ ἕτερον λιθίνα 
[160] ψᾶφος ἔχει λόγον. ἀλλ᾽, ὦ Ζεῦ πάτερ, νώτοισιν Ἀταβυρίου 
μεδέων, τίμα μὲν ὕμνου τεθμὸν Ὀλυμπιονίκαν, 
ἄνδρα τε πὺξ ἀρετὰν εὑρόντα, δίδοι τέ οἱ αἰδοίαν χάριν 
90καὶ ποτ᾽ ἀστῶν καὶ ποτὶ ξείνων. ἐπεὶ ὕβριος ἐχθρὰν ὁδὸν 
εὐθυπορεῖ, σάφα δαεὶς ἅ τέ οἱ πατέρων ὀρθαὶ φρένες ἐξ ἀγαθῶν 
[170] ἔχρεον. μὴ κρύπτε κοινὸν 
σπέρμ᾽ ἀπὸ Καλλιάνακτος: Ἐρατιδᾶν τοι σὺν χαρίτεσσιν ἔχει 
θαλίας καὶ πόλις: ἐν δὲ μιᾷ μοίρᾳ χρόνου 
95ἄλλοτ᾽ ἀλλοῖαι διαιθύσσοισιν αὖραι.

OLYMPIA 7 

As one who takes a cup from a lavish hand, 

bubbling within the foam of the grape, 

presenting it 

to a young bridegroom, pledging hearth to hearth, the pride, 

sheer gold, of possession, 

the joy of the feast, to honor his new son, render him 
among friends present admired for the bride's consent: 

so I, bringing poured nectar of victory, 

gift of the Muses, the mind's sweet yield, 

offer it up 

to the conquerors at Olympia and Pytho. Blessed is he whom 

good fame surrounds. 

Grace eyes one man, then another, bestowing favor 
frequently to the melodious lyre and the manifold music of 

flutes; 

and to both strains I keep company with Diagoras, singing 
the sea's child, daughter of Aphrodite and bride of Helios, 

Rhodes, 
and give praise, spoil of his boxing, to the onslaught of a 

man gigantic, 

wreathed in victory beside Alpheus' water 
and Kastalia; and to Damagetos his father, darling of Justice, 
who dwell in the triple-citied island over against 
the jut of broad Asia, by right of an Argive spear. 

I will try to straighten the story from the beginning 
with news from as far back as Tlepolemos 
for Herakles' 

race of reaching strength. On the father's side they glory in 
Zeus' descent; on the mother's, 

19 



Amyntoridai from Astydameia. Delusions innumerable 
hang their shadows over men's minds. This thing passes wit 
to discover, 

what is best now and at the end for a man to attain. 

Even Tlepolemos, this island's founder, once 

angered, rearing 

the stock of brute olive, smote to death Alkmana's bastard 

brother, 
Likymnios, at Tiryns as he issued from the chamber of Midea. 

Despair in the brain has driven 
even the wise man out of his course. He went to the god for 

counsel. 

From the fragrant sanctuary the gold-haired god bespoke a 

voyage 

of ships from the Lernaian ness straight for a seagirt reach, 
where once the high king of the gods drenched their city in 

a gold snowfall, 

when, by the artifice of Hephaistos, 
at the stroke of the bronze-heeled axe Athene sprang 
from the height of her father's head with a strong cry. 
The sky shivered before her and earth our mother. 

Then Hyperion's giant son, light-giver to mortals, 

laid a necessity upon his own children 

to guard thereafter: 

they must be first to found a bright altar to the goddess and 

establish a stately sacrifice 
and propitiate the heart of her father and the maid of the 

ringing spear. Respect 
for forethought puts on men goodliness and delight also. 

Yet the unpredictable mist of forgetfulness stalks us, 
it wrenches aside the right way of action 
far from our thoughts. 

20 



Thus they went up, having not the bright seed of flame, with 

fireless sacrament they appointed 
the grove on the acropolis. Yet he, assembling the yellow 

cloud, 
rained much gold upon them, and the green-eyed goddess 

granted 

every art, that they should surpass all men in the excellent 

work of their hands. 
And their streets grew images in the likeness of men and 

beasts. 
Their fame went deep. For the wise skill will wax greater 

for its innocence. 
The ancient legends of men 

tell how, when Zeus and the immortals divided the earth 
Rhodes had not yet shone in the sea's water, 
but the island was hidden in the salt depths. 

Helios was gone, and none showed forth his lot. 

They left him with no guerdon of land, 

that blameless god. 

He spoke, and Zeus would cast again, but Helios would not 

suffer it, for he said 

under the gray sea he had spied, as a growth from the floor, 
a land to foster multitudes, kindly to sheep. 

Straightway he bade Lachesis of the golden veil 

lift up her hands, nor deny 

the gods' great oath 

but assent with the son of Kronos, bending her head; the 
island rising thereafter 

into the bright air should be his. The words' end was ac- 
complished 

with a true fall. Out of the winding water the island 

blossomed, held of the father of searing sun-rays, 
master of horses that breathe fire. Rhodes mixed with him 
bore 

21 



seven sons, that displayed the shrewdest wits of the men of 

old time. 

Of these, one sired Kamiros, 

lalysos, eldest born, and Lindos; sundered, they held 
the land of their patrimony in triple division, 
each a city, and these are called by their names. 

There, as sweet deliverance after the bitterness of misfortune, 

to Tlepolemos, Tirynthian arch-founder, is given 

as to a god 

the smoking processional of sheep, the judgment of games, in 

whose flowers 
Diagoras was wreathed twice. At the glorious Isthmos the 

luck four times was his. 
One win to crown another at Nemea, at rocky Athens. 

The bronze at Argos knew him, the caldrons 

in Arkadia and Thebes, the temperate games 

Boiotians keep; 

Pellana likewise. At Aigina he won six times, at Megara the 

stone ballot 

tells no alternate story. But Zeus father, brooding over 
the peaks of Atabyrios, honor the set of the song Olmpion- 

ician, 

the man who has found excellence with his fists. Grant him 

pleasure of veneration 
in the sight of citizens and strangers his friends. The bitter 

path of pride 
he walks straitly, sure of all that the upright minds of his 

fathers 

left, his heritage. Founder not the seed 
of Kallianax, your own. With good fortune for the Eratidai 

the city 

has also its part of happiness. But in one parcel of time 
the winds intershifting flare to new directions. 

22 

Μηκῦναι 

(translation : Ilias Kolokouris & Janet Downie)

Mycenae

1.

Into the midst of the dirge of eternal asphodels you spread the trembling joy of your whiteness, O Miranda. O exotic lily, below the silent tholos, where your petals embrace the lament of shadow – your petals first kissed by the bats of death. O Miranda, from the princely smiles extinguished beneath the golden masks, and from the divine tremor scattered into the light of the buildings, rose the triumph of your life. O mystic lily, into the midst of the dirge of eternal asphodels you first shone forth before the grief of your youth.

From the lust of the burial earth you rose like a shoot of ancient (ivy? Cells?). And you sucked up from the earth the ichor of the princely bodies, and the youthful flood of life woke again from its deep sleep within the virginal flow of your veins. From the list of the burial earth you rose up into the dark air, filled with the breath of death, and the dreams of eternal sleep - all the longings of life and the tremors of desire – kissed with their airy wings the dew of your feathers. O potent lily, in the midst of the dirge of eternal asphodels you wreathed the affliction of my youth.  

Wonder birthed you, O Miranda. You attained your stature in the midst of an old silence, with the dew of freshly made virginity. Your gestures filled the atmosphere of ancient shadows with a power that bends the knees of slaves. Your eyes shone with the light of the first sunrise of love. And the blood of Homeric roses and the marrow of the reeds of Erasinos and the mystic convulsions with which the kiss of pollen shakes the flowers of the Argolid plain – all wove together the harmony of your nakedness.

Into the kingdom of death your voice poured forth like a complaint from the string of the lyre and like the terrifying sound of golden shields struck together and like the drop of water into the slumber of caves. Into the holy darkness your glance scattered the sweet phosphorescence with which the soul lights the night of tombs of bones that wove together the embraces of love. And from the mirror of your brow proceed dreams of the passion and power of unknown kings, and the dreams of those desires with which their women – white-purple flowers of the women’s chambers – slept by their sides.

2.

O Miranda, into my tired eyes you shone with golden rays of wonder and with white flashes of revelation. And before the power of your appearance something was troubled within me like the (overhanging ??) destruction/ knockdown of a temple/church and something like the breaking of sinews (=within the body)/ chords and something like the cycle of ruins and like the extinguishing of lamps/candles. And a virgin chaos arose in my breast, a chaos flooded by the brilliance of your appearance/ APOCALYPSE.

And in the darkness filled with the embraces of shadows, I said to you: O Miranda, into my veins has been poured the burning flood of the blood of charioteers, sucked in by the earth. The ichor of the Atreides burns my veins, Miranda, O exotic bloom, untouched by the glance of desire, O bloom unstained by the breath of pleasure, thirst for death rises within me, mistress. Come, let us die together.

ῥέε δ᾽ ἄμβροτον αἷμα θεοῖο

340ἰχώρ, οἷός πέρ τε ῥέει μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν:

οὐ γὰρ σῖτον ἔδουσ᾽, οὐ πίνουσ᾽ αἴθοπα οἶνον,

τοὔνεκ᾽ ἀναίμονές εἰσι καὶ ἀθάνατοι καλέονται.

And I said to you: Miranda, here in the imperial deathbed there is space for the two of us. The fearsomeness of life stretches out all around us. The envy of the gods stands over us. The ravages of separation threaten our happiness. Here in the imperial deathbed love never ends and lips remain joined forever. O Miranda, come, let us turn together to the never-ending embrace of death.

And I said to you: Miranda, O exotic bloom, untouched by the breath of desire, do you wish to become my own forever? And you lifted your gaze into the darkness, satiated with the embraces of shadows, and you let it rest upon the pallor of my face. And you said to me, with the voice of those who pray, and with the voice of those who sing hymns: O chosen one, the wave of my life rolls eagerly towards you beneath the holy covering of death.

3.

The winds, drunk with the sun, embrace wildly above our heads. Here below the rocky dome, you bloom, O Miranda, queen of the pulses of my body. Below the light of the sky, the ivy embraces the plane trees, which are threatened by the thunder. The sky’s envy does not reach down here. The stars, shaken, tumble from the sky and are lost in the embraces of chaos. O Miranda, the star of my love flickers above your breast.

4.

The sculpted image of our love is lifted up into the shadow of death. A world sleeps deeply under its feet. The golden faces smile bitterly under the earth. Bracelets enclose the ash of bones. Necklaces embrace the dust of white flesh. Savage weapons guard the ashes of heroes. The dust of slaves stands, humble, next to the dust of kings. And within the dirge of decay trembles the new seed of life. Give me your white hand, O Miranda.

The distant ocean roars and the faint voice of the ages reaches our frightened ears. Death repeats the song of past lives. Listen, O beautiful one. The arrows strike the metals of shields beneath the threats of the marble lions. The shoes of the horses strike sparks off the hard stone. The shouts of the giants rise from the cyclopeian walls of the acropoleis. And from the scented depths of the woman’s chamber, the song of eternal love pours out on all sides like a prayer. O Miranda, weave the white bonds of your arms around my head.

Above, a sun dies in the cold sky of the ages. And below its chill rays a distant life breathes like a dream. From the lovely movement of the heroes’ arms they fly and stun, the poisoned arrows. Mantles blow above the lofty bedrock of the walls. The light kisses the white breasts of the women beneath the web of pleasing garments and gold flashes upon their golden hair and on the boss of the shield. And upon the tender grass drips the blood of heroes, drips the blood of virgins. O Miranda, give me the roses of your lips.

A plaintive sound rises from the burial mound unkissed by the sun. And it is like the sighing of nights of love, and it is like the protest of those three-times (??) separated from their mates, and it is like the breath of a distant pipe at sunset. A plaintive sound rises up from the burial mound. And it is like the whisper of kisses in a false dream and it is like the lust for life upon the bed of death and it is like the desire of bones beneath the earth. O Miranda, O lily, exotic and untouched by the breath of desire, the tremor of unknown generations has been poured into my veins. O woman, eternally my own, blow upon my eyelashes the swoon of love.

Ὀλυμπία

1.

Out of the affliction of my youth were born the deep nights of his eyes and from the purity of your desires were fashioned the lilies of his countenance, O Miranda. By the power of my passion was fed the strength of his manliness and the roses of his face sprang from the dreams of your nights, O my own one. The bees of love placed upon his lips the musky honey of our first embraces. And the golden butterfly of our youth, trembling from the snows of life, flew and stopped upon the white bloom of his breast. O Miranda, within the breast of Bathyllos (“deep matter”?), our souls begin again the first song of love.

The shudders of our nights take us into the depths of his eyes. The music of our mysteries, which the galaxy heard, is poured out with the caress of his voice. The heat of our embraces inspires his expansive movement. The calmness of our daydreaming beneath the stars molds the statue of his immobility. And the light breeze of twilight stirs lightly on his brow, with the first quiver of our love – stirs again, with pleasure, upon the brow of Bathyllos, your hair together with my own.

The holy Altis of life is stretched out before us, O Miranda. The eternal stadion awaits the fruit of our youth. Place your hands upon the golden locks of his head and kiss the white lily of his countenance, before the chrysalid of thought passes beyond its dewy coolness. Kiss him upon his brown and come sit near me, here on the holy bank of the Alpheios, beneath the great shadows of the plane trees. The shout of contests and the song of victory reaches here the ears of the mothers. Come, sit by me under the great shadows. The Altis of life is stretched out before us. Death is the Great Deception.

2.

A sun is born amid the rose petals of dawn. A sun is born and sweetly kisses the Arcadian mountains. Into this white intoxication of light the silver dancing waters of the Alpheios send sparks, the silver dancing waters of the Kladeos send forth sparks from the silent shadows. And the immortal people of marble celebrate in the green spaces of the Altis. A sun is born amid the rose petals of dawn and sweetly kisses the Arcadian mountains.

The trumpets stir the morning air, O Bathyllos. The beautifully wreathed olive tree lowers its branches beneath the marbles of the prostyle. The gates of the temple open before your youth. The throne of the god shines forth before your face with its gold and ivory and ebony and precious stones and upon it the sun stands driving the chariot and Selene rides horseback. The Immortal one with golden hair shows you the chryselephantine Victory and lifts up before your face the eagle upon the flashing scepter. Swear, O Bathyllos, the holy oath.

The trumpets strike the morning air. Throw aside your cloak, O youthful one, and display the holy bloom of youth celebrating beneath the sun. The shout of the people is lifted up all around you. Take flight, O Bathyllos. The earth slips beneath your feet and the air is rent before you and kisses your damp brow and brushes aside your golden hair. Take flight, O Bathyllos. The shoots of palm are lifted up to the very top, ready to kiss the locks of your hair. Praxiteles is drunk with the bloom of your flesh and the marble, which fashions gods, trembles in the lao of the earth. Take flight, O Bathyllos.

3.

From the ecstasy of my desire were born the flashes of his eyes, and from your virgin shame the great shadows of his eyelashes. By the phosphorescence of your prayer the white light of his countenance was illuminated, and on the poison of my thought were nourished the snaky locks of his hair. The breeze of twilight above his brow stirs with pleasure your hair together with my own. And within the mystic flower of his breast, the chrysalids of our life sprout new white-gold wings.

The eternal Altis stretches out before us, O Miranda. The sun sweetly kisses the Arcadian mountains. The Sun kisses the diamonds of the Kladeos and the diamonds of the Alpheios. The Eternal one lifts up in his right hand the chryselephantine Victory. The communal celebration of the stadion embraces the fruit of our love and the beautifully-wreathed olive tree leans its immortal branches over the X (??) of eternal youth. O Miranda, more sweetly than the sunset, O Miranda, more sweetly than the pale roses, the Altis of life grows green before us. Death is the Great Deception.

Ἀντιφεγγίδες (1895) 

Στη μνήμη τοῦ Φίλιππου Βλάχου

Πρόλογος
 

Κι ὁ ἄθρωπος εἷναι σὰν τὰ φύλλα τοῦ δένδρου, ποὺ τ᾽ ἀόρατο τοῦ χινοπώρου χέρι σκορπίζει καὶ παραδέρνει στὴ γῆς ἀπάνου.
Ἡ ζωὴ περνάει.

Κι ἡ φωνὴ τοῦ ποιητῆ στὸ ψιθύρισμα τῶ φύλλωνε μοιάζει. Τὰ φύλλα μιλοῦνε στὲς ἁπαλὲς καρδιὲς σὰν ὁ Ζέφυρος γλυκὰ τὰ χαϊδεύει, ἡ μελωδία τοῦ πουλιοῦ -ποὺ χαρούμενο τὴν κοκκινάδα τῆς αὐγῆς, γιὰ μία φορὰ ἀκόμα ξαναβλέπει - δὲν εἶναι κουφὸ αἴνιγμα· τῶν φύλλων τὸ ριὸ βωβὸ δὲν εἶναι, ὅλα θυμίζουν στὴν καρδιὰ παλαιὲς ἱστορίες κι ἀγάπες πεθαμένες.

Τ᾽ ἀθρώπου ἡ ψυχὴ στὰ περασμένα πάντα ἀρμενίζει καὶ γιὰ τὰ μελλούμενα λαχταράει, εἶναι σὰν ἕνα βαθὺ πηγάδι νερὸ γιομάτο, ὅπου, ὅμοιες μὲ ἄστρα, καθρεφτίζονται μία κατόπι στὴν ἄλλη οἱ στιγμὲς τοῦ καιροῦ ποὺ θα ᾽ρθει καὶ φεύγει σὰν ἄπιαστο πουλί.

Prologue

And man is like the leaves of the tree, that the invisible hand of Fall scatters and sways on the earth.
Life is just passing by.

And the voice of the poet looks like the whisper of the leaves . The leaves are speaking to the gentle hearts just as Zephyros is sweetly caressing them, the melody of the bird - that happy bird, in the redness of dawn, once again able to see- the melody is not a deaf enigma; the flow of the leaves is not silent, everything is reminding to the heart of old stories and deceased loves.

The soul of man always sails to those days of the past, and is longing for future things, it is like a deep well full of water, where, stars- alike, one after the other, the moments of time passed and time yet to come and go like an elusive bird, the moments are reflecting down there at the well, one after the other. 

The Barbarians

Οἱ Βάρβαροι

Στὴ μέση ἀπὸ ἕναν ἐλαιώνα, ἤτουν χτισμένος ἕνας μικρὸς τετράγωνος ναὸς με δεκάξη κολῶνες τρογύρου, ὕπαιθρος, καὶ μέσα ἕνα ἄσπρο ἄγαλμα μαρμαρένιο τοῦ Ἑρμῆ στὸν ὕπνο.

In the middle of an olive grove, there was built a small square temple, with sixteen columns all around, out in the open air, and in it a white marble statue of Hermes asleep. 

Ὁ γλύφτης ποὺ τὸν ἔκαμε στὸ μάρμαρο ζωὴ εἶχε δώκει· φαινότουν ὠς ν’ ἀνάπνεγε ὁ θεός εὐτυχισμένος· καθὼς ὁ Ὄνειρος γλυκὰ τὴ φαντασία τοῦ χάιδευε τὰ χείλια του γελούσαν — λίγο ἀκόμα κι ἡ πέτρα θὰ μιλοῦσε.

The sculptor who made him had given life to the marble; it seemed as if the god was breathing happy; whilst Dream sweetly was caressing his imagination, his lips were laughing-  a little more and the stone would speak. 

Χρόνια πολλὰ ἀπεράσαν ἀπό τὸν καιρὸ ποὺ ὁ γλύφτης στὴν πέτρα ἔδωκε μορφή· καὶ πολλὲς θυσίες γινήκαν στὸν ἀποκοιμισμένον τὸν θεό· γενεὲς ἀνθρώπων εἶχαν προσευκηθεῖ μπροστὰ στὸ ἁγνό τὸ μάρμαρο.

Years of many passed by since the time that the sculptor gave shape to the stone; and many sacrifices had been given to the asleep god; generations of people had prayed in front of the virgin marble.  

Ἡ ἄνοιξη καὶ πάλε εἶχε στολίσει τὲς ἱερὲς ἐλιὲς μὲ ἄσπρα μικρὰ λουλούδια σὰν ἀπὸ χιόνι· τὰ χελιδόνια καὶ πάλε πετούσαν κελαδώντας ἀπὸ χαρά πού ’χαν ξανάβρει τὲς ποθητὲς φωλιές.

Spring again had graced the sacred olive trees with white small flowers that looked like made of snow; the swallows again were flying chirping of joy, joy that they had found again the desirable nests. 

Κι ἐχαιρότουν ἡ φύση κι ἔζιουνε ὁλόγυρα στὸν ἄψυχο ναό, στὰ πράσινα δέντρα γιομάτα λουλούδια πουλιὰ τραγουδούσαν, λευτερίδες πετούσαν, ὁ ἀγἐρας ὁ ἴδιος εἶχε λουστεῖ στὴ φαιδρότη.

And nature was happy and girdling the soulless temple, up on the green trees full of flowers birds were singing,  butterflies were flying, and the wind itself had showered in delight/ blissfulness. 

Μὰ οἱ ἄγριοι στρατιῶτες ποὺ τοῦ Χριστοῦ τὴ θρησκεία ἐλατρεύαν, ναούς, ἀγάλματα, κι ἀρχαιότη μισώντας, ὅλα ἐκάνανε στάχτη.

But the wild soldiers that worshiped the religion of Christ, out of hatred for temples, statues, and Antiquity, they put everything to flames/ ashes.

Καὶ κεῖ στὸν ἔρμο ναὸ ὅπου ὁ Ἑρμῆς ἀπὸ αἰῶνες κοιμούτουν, ἀνάμεσα στὲς πράσινες ἐλιές — φορτωμένες τώρα ἄσπρα μικρὰ λουλούδια — εἴχανε φτάσει, ὁπλισμένα τὰ βάρβαρα χέρια μὲ βαριὰ σφυριά, μὲ καταστρεφτικὰ τσεκούρια.

And there, in the poor desolate temple where Hermes, for centuries, was sleeping, in the midst of the green olive trees - now loaded with white small flowers - there had arrived, enarmed barbarian hands with heavy hammers, with destructive axes.

Ἐκεῖνοι χαρούμενοι κομμάτια ἐκάναν τοῦ Ἑρμῆ τὸ ἄγαλμα καὶ τὸ ναὸ συντρίβαν, μὰ οἱ ἐλιές ποὺ ἴσκιαζαν αὐτὸ τὸ στολίδι τῆς φύσης βροχὴ τ’ ἄνθια τους ρίχνανε ἀπάνου στὰ ἀρέπια που ὀπίσω τους οἱ βάρβαροι ἀφήναν.

They gleefully tore the statue of Hermes to pieces and crushed down the temple, but the olive trees that were once giving shade to this ornament of nature, now were springing down their flowers up on the ruins that the Barbarians left behind them. 

Λευτερίδα (η): Είδος πεταλούδας της νύχτας που πετάει γύρω από το φως της λάμπας.

Λευτερίδα τσι νυκτός (η): Νυχτερίδα.

Ἁπόλλων καὶ Δάφνη

ανατρέπει το μύθο, δεν είναι πια μία σκηνή βιασμού όπως στον Οβίδιο, αλλά ομοιάζει με ΑΕΜ, Δάφνις και Χλόη. Η γυναίκα έχει την επιθυμία και ο άνδρας. Ο Απόλλων ίσως λίγο λιγότερο επιθυμεί. Είναι θεός, τι μπορεί να θέλει; Ο Θεοτόκης παραλάσσει τον μύθο. Η Δάφνη θέλει και δεν θέλει. Ενώ στον Οβίδιο όλα είναι δημιου΄ργημα του Έρωτα και η Δάφνη δεν θέλει σίγουρα.