Lost Homeric Hymns

Lost Homeric Hymn to Artemis (I)

You are She who Roams the Woods Alone,
Never afraid to face the dangers of the unknown,
Instill in me this sense of pride
In the naked face of the God Phobos.
I revel in the silvery shafts of your bow and arrow,
O Kynthia, Phoebe, Daphnaia, Korythalia,
Member of the true Holy Trinity,
Spread Your Wisdom to those who will not listen,
Or let me continue your legacy for You,
O Howling Huntress, O Moon Maiden.

Sing to me, Muse, of the rosy Goddess Hebe,
Crowned with blooming violets and daffodils,
And other buds of Spring.
She of the Lovely Ankles,
Bringer of Youth,
Sympathiser to adolescents,
She never ages, but stays forever a teenager.

Light-footed Hebe,
Who carries the golden plates
Through the halls of mighty Olympos.
Skilled waitress, devoted Lady in Waiting,
Patroness of petty household chores galore.

Her golden hair bounces
As She crosses the fields of the sky,
Hebe, who has a heavy heart,
Daughter of Hera and Zeus,
Sister to skilled Hephaistos,
Eris, Eileithyia, and violent Ares.

She has had to do the dishes
For over 2,000 years,
Still Her complaints go unanswered,
But I shall remember you,
O Great Goddess Hebe,
I shall sing of you in another song.

Hebe, who married strong Herakles,
Yet who was not even mentioned
In His A&E television biography last week.

Hebe, who possessed great ingenuity,
Yet reads the Olympian Enquirer cover to cover.

Hebe, whose Nordic golden hair
Frames Her annoyed, lovely face
And reminds all who look upon Her
That She is still the Goddess of Eternal Youth,
And needs to be appreciated.

Ares, raging force,
Ares, chariot breaker,
Ares wears tarnished helmet,
Ares has broken heart,
Ares, shield-stabber,
Ares, destroyer of city,
Ares has armour of hate,
Ares has blood-covered arms,
Ares is always tired of life,
Ares, cruel with spear,
Ares, outcast of Olympos,
Ares, distant from Nike,
Who Herself is distant from Him,
Ares, devoid of Justice,
Ares is hated by both sides,
Ares, leader of most angry men,
Ares abuses staff of manhood,
Ares twists His fiery death cycle
Among the seven-sgned tracks
Of the aether, where bloodthirsty chargers
Bear Him with passion
Over the forgotten Third Orbit!
Hear me,
Bane of mankind,
Dispenser of youth's unbridled energy,
Scream down from up there
Your crimson light
Into our peaceful lives,
And your martial ardour,
So that I can embrace in
Cruel cowardice
In my head,
And encourage the delicious rush
Of my spirit, and incite
That shrill voice in my heart
That provokes me
To enter the chilling din of battle
You, ferocious God,
Give me mercilessness,
Let me linger
In the fierce dance of war,
And thus embrace
The battles with enemies
And the fate of a violent death.