II – TO DEMETER

Fair-haired Demeter, holy deity,
I’ll praise – her trim-legged daughter, also, she
Who was by [Hades] seduced, for her
He had of Zeus^[1], far-seeing, Thunderer.
Far from Demeter of the golden sword
And glorious fruits, upon the soft greensward
With Ocean’s well-endowed young girls she played,
And flowers, which the will of Zeus had made
The earth to grow to satisfy Hades
And snare the bloomlike girl, she plucked, and these
Were roses, croci, lovely violets and
The iris, hyacinth, narcissus (grand
And radiant flower), such a sight to see
For gods and men. Its deep extremity
Produced a hundred blooms. Its fragrant smell
Caused all the heavens to laugh – the earth as well
And the salt-sea’s swell. The maiden’s breathless joy
Made her reach out to grasp the lovely toy
When Earth with her broad pathways split asunder
Upon that Nysian plain^[2] and then from under
The ground, the lord who goes by many a name,
The Host of Legions, son of Cronos, came
With his immortal horses, leaping far.
Against her will he caught her in his [chariot]
Of gold as she yelled out. With a shrill cry
She called upon her father, the most high
And glorious son of Cronos. Not one tree
That bears rich olives, not one deity
Nor man could catch her voice; just two were there
To hear her – tender Hecate, whose hair
Shone bright, Persaeus’ daughter, as she lay
Within her cave, and Helios, Lord of Day,
Hyperion’s bright son, as loud she cried
To Zeus, her father. But [Helios] sat aside
From all the gods within his temple where
So many pray, receiving his sweet share
Of mortal offerings. And so that son
Of Cronos, host and lord of many a one,
Who goes by many a name, was carrying
Away the girl by leave of Zeus the king
On his immortal chariot, though she
Was most reluctant. While she still could see
The earth, the starry heavens and the shine
Of sunlight and the strongly-flowing brine
Where fishes shoal, the goddess hoped to view
Her darling mother and the great gods who
Live endlessly – this calmed her mighty soul.
The heights of all the mountains and the whole
Sea-depths with her immortal voice rang out,
And then her queenly mother heard her shout:
Acute pain seized her heart; her dear hands tore
Her headdress; and the dusky cloak she wore
She cast off, speeding bird-like over sea
And land to find her child. But nobody,
No god nor man, would tell her what was done,
And of all of the birds of omen none
Would say the truth. She wandered through the land,
The queenly [Demeter] torches in her hand,
For nine days, forsaking in her misery
Sweet nectar and ambrosia, while she
Denied to bathe. But when the tenth dawn broke,
Then Hecate, with a torch, met her and spoke
These words: “Queenly Demeter, who bring us
The seasons, you who are so generous
With rich gifts, say what man or deity
Has carried off your child Persephone
And caused you pain? I heard her cry but who
He was I did not see. I’ll tell to you
In short all that I know.” Thus Hecate
Addressed her. Rich-haired Rhea’s progeny
Made no reply but, with her torches, flew
With her until they came to Helios, who
Watched over gods and men and there she stood
Before his horses, telling him: “You should,
Helios, respect me as a deity
If ever I have given gaiety
To you in word or deed. My fair, sweet child
I heard as one in someone’s thrall – a wild
And thrilling sound! But nothing did I see.
But by your beams through the extremity
Of both the land and sea and radiant air
You look down. Have you seen her anywhere?
My dear child! Who has seized her violently –
What god or man? – and made escape?” Thus she
Spoke. Then Hyperion’s son gave his reply:
“Demeter, child of rich-haired Rhea, I
Will tell the truth to you. Exceedingly
I honour you and grieve your misery
Over your slim-legged daughter. None but Zeus
Cloud-Gatherer’s to blame. He dared to loose
The maid to Hades so that she might be
His buxom wife – yes, his own brother. He
Snatched her away down to the misty gloom
As in his chariot she wailed her doom.
But, goddess, cease your loud lament. For it
Is wrong to show vain anger. Not unfit
To be a son-in-law to you, her mother,
Being of the same stock and your own brother,
Is [Hades], Lord of Many Men
When honours were first measured out, he gained
A third part of renown and has remained
Lord of his fellow-dwellers there.^[3]” That said,
She called her steeds. They heard her voice and sped
Along like long-winged birds. More suffering
Assailed her. Angered at the Dark-Cloud King
Of Gods she shunned their gatherings on high
Olympus and to towns and fields that lie
On earth she went, inflicting injury
A long time on herself. On scrutiny
No man, no, nor yet one deep-bosomed dame
Knew her for who she was until she came
To wise Celeus, who then was sovereign
Of sweet Eleusis. She sat, troubled in
Her heart, on the roadside by the Maids’ Spring
Whence folk drew water. Overshadowing
This dark lace was an olive shrubbery.
Just like an ancient crone she seemed to be,
Cut off from childbirth and the offerings
That garland-loving Aphrodite brings,
Like those who tend the kingly progeny –
Those kings who weal out justice lawfully –
Or like the stewards in the halls that sound
In echoes.^[4]
There Celeus’s daughters found
Her as she carried water which they drew
So easily so they might take it to
Their father’s house in bronze urns…

[ ... ]

They, too – for it is not so easily done
For any man to know a deity –
Failed to detect her and spoke wingedly: “Who are you, ancient one? What is your race?
Why have you left your city and won’t face
These houses? Dames like you, and younger, too,
Live here in dark halls and would welcome you
In word and deed.” They spoke and in reply
The queen of all the goddesses said, “I
Greet you, dear children, whosoever you be
Of womankind. I’ll tell my history
To you, because the answer is no shame.
My queenly mother gave to me the name
Of Doso, and I came across the sea,
The broad, broad sea, from Crete unwillingly,
Snatched off by pirates…

[ ... ]

Thus in my wandering
I landed here – I do not know a thing
About this place or who you folk may be.
I pray, though, each Olympian deity
Will grant you mates, and children, too, the prayer
Of every parent. Maidens, do not spare
Your pity for me. Please, then, make it clear,
Dear children, who the folk are who live here,
The men and women, that I cheerfully
May work for them with chores befitting me,
A crone – tending a babe or tidying
Or in his fine room’s recess readying
The master’s bed or giving my advice
To the women.” Thus she spoke and in a trice
The fairest maid, unwed Callidice,
Replied, “Mother, in our adversity
We bear the gifts that gods deal out to men –
They’re stronger than we are. I’ll tell you, then,
The names of all the men in power here,
Who’ve earned our honour. I will make it clear
Who by their wisdom and their true decrees
Rule us and guard our city walls…

[ ... ]

And our brave father. All have wives who run
Each house, and on first sight there’s not a one
Who would dishonour you and turn you out.
They’d welcome you because there is no doubt
That you are like a goddess. Stay here, though,
If you prefer, and all of us will go
Back to our house and tell our mother, who
Is buxom Metaneira, all that you
Have said. Thus she will bid you to [stay
With] us and not seek sanctuary elsewhere.
In our fine house, she has a late-born son,
Much prayed for and embraced – her only one.
Nurse him till he’s a youth and you will find
That you’re the envy of all womankind.
Such gifts shall you receive!” That’s what she said,
And at her words the goddess bowed her head.
They filled their shining buckets and withdrew,
Rejoicing. In a short time they came to
Their father’s house and told their mother all
That they had seen and heard. She bade them call
The stranger swiftly so that they might pay
Her boundless wages. Then they went away…

[ ... ]

They’d left the good goddess by the wayside,
And there they found her. Then with her they hied
To their dear father’s house. She walked behind,
A veil upon her head, grieved in her mind.
Around her slender feet her dark-blue dress
Fluttered about. Quite soon, with the goddess,
They came to heaven-bred Celeus’ residence.
They went along the portico and thence
They found their queenly mother sitting near
A pillar of the close-fit roof, her dear
Young son within her arms. To her they sped.
The goddess on the threshold stood, her head
Reaching the roof. Her heavenly radiance
Filled up the doorway. Awe and reverence
And pale fear took their mother at this sight.
She got up then so that Demeter might
Sit on her couch, and yet she, who supplies
The seasons and gives perfect gifts, her eyes,
Her lovely eyes, cast down, would not sit there
Upon that golden couch. With tender care
Iambe brought a jointed stool and cast
A silver fleece upon it. Then, at last,
The goddess sat and held a veil before
Her face. A long time there she sat, heart-sore,
Unsmiling, never speaking, not by sign
Or word addressing anyone. No wine,
No food she took but, pining wistfully
For her deep-bosomed daughter, there sat she…

[ ... ]

…Metaneira filled a cup
Of sweet wine for her, but she put it off.
It was not right, she said, for her to quaff
Red wine. Water and meal was her request,
Mixed with soft mint. She fulfilled her behest.
The great queen drank, for she observed that rite.
Then spoke up, out of those within her sight,
Well-girdled Metaneira: “Hail to you,
Lady, for I believe it to be true
Your stock is not ignoble – dignity
And grace shine in your eyes, which you may see
In justice-dealing kings. What the gods send
We bear perforce – beneath the yoke we bend [250]
Our necks. Bring up my child, a god-sent boy,
Late-born, past hope, but a much-prayed-for joy.
Nurse him till he’s a youth and you will find
You’ll be the envy of all womankind.
Such gifts shall you receive!” Came the reply
From wreathed Demeter: “Greetings, too, say I,
God bless you. I will take him willingly
Just as you bid me and you’ll never see
The Cutter or witchcraft bring him distress
By reason of his nurse’s heedlessness –
The Woodcutter’s not stronger than a spell
I have and there’s a safeguard I know well
Against foul witchcraft.” Then she took the boy
Unto her perfect bosom and with joy
His mother’s heart was filled. Thus the fine son
Of wise Celeus was nursed – Demophoon,
Whom the well-girdled Metaneira bore –
Right there. He grew like an immortal, for
He neither ate nor suckled at the teat.
Each day rich-wreathed Demeter breathed so sweet
Upon him at her breast and smeared his skin
With ambrosia as though he were the kin
Of gods. She hid him in the fire, though,
Each night (his loving parents did not know)
Just like a brand^[5]. They were amazed that he
Grew past his age – godlike he seemed to be.
Deathless and ageless she’d have made the lad
If the well-girdled Metaneira had
Not in her fragrant chamber watched by night
In heedlessness. Lamenting in her fright,
She smote her hips, afraid for him, and these
Swift words she spoke, bewailing her unease: “Demophoon, the stranger buries you
Deep in the fire, affording me much rue.”
Bright-crowned goddess Demeter heard. [Angry]
She took the darling child, the boy who’d been
Born in the palace to Metaneira who
Had lost all hope of one more child, and threw
Him from the fire to the ground. Then she
To well-girt Metaneira instantly
Said, “You dull mortals cannot see the lot
Awaiting you, both good and bad. For what
Is done’s past cure. Be witness the gods’ plight,
The endless river Styx, your dear son might
Through me have been immortal all his days
And ageless and been given endless praise.
But now death and a mortal’s destiny
He can’t avoid, yet he will always be
Much honoured for he lay upon my knees
And slept within my arms. And yet, when he’s
Full-grown, year after year the progeny
Of the Eleusinians continually
Will fight each other in dread strife. Know, then,
That I’m Demeter, prized by mortal men,
A cause of help and joy to them. And so,
Let there be built a temple and, below,
A shrine beneath the city and sheer wall
Above Callirrhous and on a tall
Hillside. I’ll teach my rites that I may be
Won over by your honest purity.”
The goddess changed her looks as this she said,
No longer old – around her, beauty spread
And from her robe wafted a fine bouquet.
Demeter’s body shone from far away
In a divine light, and now golden hair
Spread from her shoulders, and, like lightning, there
Was brightness in that well-built house. Then she
Went from the palace and immediately
They told the mighty Celeus all, as she,
Well-wreathed Demeter, told them to. Then he
Summoned his people to the meeting-place,
That countless throng, and bade them then to grace
Rich-tressed Demeter, with a temple there,
A splendid one, an altar, also, where
The hillock rose. They heard and started to
Do as he ordered, and the infant grew
Just like a god. When done and at their rest
They all went home. Demeter, golden-tressed,
Apart from all the gods sat as she pined
For her deep-bosomed child. Mortals would find
Upon the fecund earth a cruel year
For the well-wreathed Demeter kept each ear
From sprouting. Many a curving plough in vain
Was drawn by oxen. White barley would rain
To no avail upon the ground. So she
Would have destroyed with cruel scarcity
All of mankind and would have robbed as well
Of gifts and sacrifices those who dwell
High on Olympus did Lord Zeus not see
What she had done. He sent immediately
Gold-winged Iris to the richly-tressed
Lovely Demeter. That was his behest,
And she obeyed dark-clouded Zeus, the son
Of Cronus – swiftly to her did she run.
She came then to Eleusis, rich in scent.
She found dark-cloaked Demeter and she went
Into the temple where she’d come to rest
And said with winged words: “It’s the behest
Of Father Zeus, who’s ever wise, that you
Should join the holy tribe of deities who
Are everlasting. Don’t let this decree
Go unobeyed.” Still she refused to be
Persuaded. Zeus then gave one more command –
The blest, eternal gods should see her and,
Each one after the other, on they came
And offered fair gifts, calling out her name.
They promised any rights she might prefer
Among them, not prevailing, though, with her,
So angry was she. She spurned stubbornly
All that they’d said. She’d never go, said she,
To well-scented Olympus nor let rise
Fruit from the ground till she with her own eyes
Saw her fair child. Zeus the Loud-Thunderer,
Who sees all, sent the executioner
Of Argus with his wand of gold^[6] to Hell^[7]
That he with coaxing words might put a spell
On Hades to send back into the light
Holy Persephone from murky night
And let her mother see her and let go
Her anger. Hermes was persuaded so
To do and left Olympus speedily
Down to the places on the earth, then he
Found Hades on a couch at home beside
His apprehensive and reluctant bride,
Much yearning for her mother, who yet mused
On her dread project far away, abused
By the blest gods. Staunch Hermes, standing near,
Said: “Dark-haired Hades, sovereign down here
Among the dead, I’m given a command
By Father Zeus to take out of this land
The fair Persephone up to the place
Where the gods live so that she, face-to-face,
May meet her mother that she may let go
Her rage at the gods; a dread scenario
Demeter had in mind – she planned to bring
An end to weakly men by burying
Seed underground, the honours that they brought
To the immortals thus reduced to nought.
She kept her dreadful anger nor would she
Mix with the gods but solitarily
Kept to her fragrant temple, dwelling in
Rocky Eleusis.” With a joyless grin
The ruler of the dead then acquiesced
To Father Zeus’ command and thus addressed
The wise Persephone immediately:
“To your dark-robed mother, Persephone,
Go now. Think kindly of me. Do not brood
Or be in an exceedingly sad mood.
Among the gods I’ll be a fitting spouse,
For I am Zeus’s brother. In this house
Over all living things you’ll have command
And with the highest honours will you stand
Among the gods; always those who do ill
Shall be chastised, those who refuse to still
Your power with sacrifices, reverently
Performing rites and giving gifts.” Thus he
Addressed her. Filled with joy then was the shrewd
Persephone, and in that happy mood
Leapt up. But Hades gave her secretly
A pomegranate seed that she’d beside
Her dark-robed mother not always abide.
[Hades], Ruler of Many Men,
Attached his steeds that never perish then
To his gold chariot. She got on, and strong
Hermes took reins and whip and drove headlong
Those horses, for they flew on readily.
They managed their long journey speedily.
No sea, no river, not one mountaintop,
No grassy glen was seen to put a stop
To their advance as they cleft the wide air
Above them. Thus he brought those steeds to where
Well-wreathed Demeter stayed, halting before
Her fragrant temple. Seeing them she tore
Outside, as on a wooded mountainside
A Maenad tears; Persephone then spied
Demeter’s sweet eyes, then leapt down and sped
To fall upon her neck. Yet in her head,
While holding her, Demeter suddenly
Fancied some trick and trembled violently,
Ceasing her kisses. “Child,“ she cried, “did you
Not eat when down below? Come, tell me true.
Hide nothing that we both may truly know.
If not, then from that loathsome place below
With Cronus’ son, dark-clouded Zeus, and me
You’ll come and dwell and will respected be
By all the gods. But if you ate, back there
Below the earth you’ll hold a one-third’s share
Of every year, the other two with me
And all the other gods. But when we see
Earth blooming with the fragrant flowers of spring,
Up from that gloom you’ll rise, a wondrous thing
To gods and men. What trick did Hades play
Upon you when he spirited you away?”
Then fair Persephone replied to her:
“Mother, I’ll tell you all. The messenger,
Aid-giving, swift Hermes was sent to me
By Zeus, my sire, and each divinity
To bring me back to earth from Erebus
That you might feast your eyes on me and thus
Cease your dread wrath against the gods. Why, I
At once leapt up in joy. But by and by
He placed inside my mouth clandestinely
A sweet pomegranate seed, thus forcing me
To taste it. I will tell you, blow by blow,
How Hades took me to the depths below
Through Zeus’s clever plan…

[ ... ]

…Up leapt the strong lord,
The Host of Many, bundled me aboard
His golden car and then against my will
Took me beneath the earth. My cry was shrill.
All this is true, although it hurts to say
These words.” Then with one heart all through the day
They cheered each other’s souls with many a kiss,
Which brought relief as back and forth some bliss
They gave and took. Then bright-eyedHecate
Approached them both, embracing frequently
Demeter’s holy child and from then on
Queen Hecate was her companion
And minister. Then Zeus, Loud-Thunderer,
All-Seeing, sent to them a messenger,
The well-tressed Rhea, so that she might bring
Dark-robed Demeter to the gathering
Of gods, and honours of her choice he swore
That they would give, agreeing furthermore
That one-third of the circling year she’d live
In gloom and darkness while the rest he’d give
To her that with her mother she might stay
And the other gods. She did not disobey
The bidding of Lord Zeus but speedily
Flew down from high Olympus’ promontory
On to the plain of Rharus, whose terrain
Was once corn-rich but now produced no grain,
Quite leafless, for the white fruit was concealed
By trim-ankled Demeter. Time revealed,
However, long and waving ears of grain
When spring burst out and on the ground they’d gain
Rich furrows full of corn.^[8] With others bound
In sheaves already, there, upon this ground
She landed first out of the desert air,
And they rejoiced to see each other there.
The rich-tressed Rhea said: “Zeus calls to you –
Loud -Thunderer, All-Seeing. Come, child, do,
And join the other gods. Zeus also swore
Whatever rites you wish and, furthermore,
That one-third of the circling year you’ll live
In gloom and darkness while the rest he’ll give
To you that with your mother you may stay
And all the gods. That’s what she heard her say
To her and after Zeus’s words were said,
In token of his oath he bowed his head.
Obey, child, don’t be wrathful endlessly
With Zeus of the Dark Clouds, but instantly
Increase the grain that offers life to men.”
That’s what she said. Well-wreathed Demeter then
Obeyed and on the rich lands caused their fruits
To spring and with all kinds of blooms and shoots
The wide earth groaned. She showed Triptolemus^[9]
And Diocles, horse-driver, Eumolpus
The mighty and Celeus, who rules his nation,
Those justice-dealing kings, the operation
Of all her rites and taught her mysteries
(None may transgress or learn or utter these,
For great awe for the gods restrains one’s voice).
Those who have seen these mysteries rejoice.
No such bliss comes to those who take no part
In them, however, once they must depart
Into the gloom below. When all was taught
To them by the divine goddess, they sought
Olympus and the other gods. There they,
Those holy and revered goddesses, stay
With Zeus the Thunderer. Happy is he
Whom they both freely love. Immediately
To Zeus’ great house they sent the god Plutus,^[10]
Who gives to mortals opulence. To us,
O queen of sweet Eleusis and the isle
Of Paros and the rock-strewn Antron, smile,
Gift-giver, season-bringer, [Demeter], fair
Persephone as well, and for my air
Grant me delightful substance. You I’ll tell
Of in my song – another song as well.