Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Poem Draft

This is an adaptation of part of the parodos for Euripides' Bacchae.

Evoë

Mountained is my love,
wearing holy fawn-skin,
singing as he slays the goat,
delighting in the flesh.

Mountained in Phrygia is my love,
Bromios, who dancing leads
by milk-flowing, wine-flowing streams,
by nectar-wine of bees.

Evoë!

With incense-fume of pine torch,
fragrant on the fennel rod;
running, dancing, hair streaming,
band rousing, ever shouting:

Evoë!

Booming timbrels hymn the Bacchic god;
the Phrygian flute of Mother Rhea,
satyr-stolen, blends with revel,
sweet-graced and most holy,

antheming the wild troops
that, mountained, band and revel,
mountained and light of foot,
gambol like the wild foals.

Evoë!

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