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Tag: Jove / Jupiter / Zeus

“The Birth of Bacchus” (lll) – Ovid

Semele, 1921 - John Duncan

        Semele” (1921)

 

             John Duncan

 

                    ____

 

 

         To keep his promise he ascends,

 

his promise, Jove / Jupiter / Zeus

had sworn by very Styx, if you’ll

remember, to Semele, his current

inamorata, that when next he[‘d]

court[ ] the rites of love, he’d

descend in those celestial charms

with which he enters Juno / Hera‘s

chambers, his goddess / wife, on

similar intimate occasions

 

                                                    and shrowds

         His awful brow in whirl-winds and in clouds;

 

shrowds, shrouds, covers in

darkness, shields

 

awful, inspiring awe, inspiring

consternation


         Whilst all around, in terrible array,

         His thunders rattle, and his light’nings play.

 

not only does Jove / Jupiter / Zeus

shrowd[ ] /His awful brow, which is

to say he actively effects changes,

consciously and manifestly producing

identifiable outcomes, a shrouded brow,

in this instance, but he also inspires the

very elements, thunders rattle 

light’nings play, to rally round his

enterprise


         And yet, the dazling lustre to abate,

         He set not out in all his pomp and state,

 

And yet, except that, Jove / Jupiter

/ Zeus chooses, set[s] … out, to rein

in, abate, elements of his pomp and

state, of his magnificence


         Clad in the mildest light’ning of the skies,

         And arm’d with thunder of the smallest size:

         Not those huge bolts, by which the giants slain

         Lay overthrown on the Phlegrean plain.

         ‘Twas of a lesser mould, and lighter weight;

 

Phlegrean plain, Phlegraean, site of the

war that won for the Olympians, Jove /

Jupiter / Zeus, Juno / Hera, and the

pantheon of other gods with whom

we’ve here become acquainted, control 

of the cosmos, against the Titans, who’d

earlier ruled, the children of Uranus,

Sky, and Gaia, Earth, though that’s

an entirely other, earlier story, equally

entrancing

 

         They call it thunder of a second-rate,

         For the rough Cyclops, who by Jove’s command

         Temper’d the bolt, and turn’d it to his hand,

 

Cyclops, any of the three Cyclopes,

Arges, Brontes, and Steropes, or in

English translation, Bright, Thunder,

and Lightning, sons of Uranus and

Gaia, one-eyed giants, who

manufactured Jove / Jupiter /

Zeus‘s thunderbolts

 

Cyclops here is probably Cyclopes,

this translation‘s early 18th-Century

spelling of the now singular “Cyclops”,

all of whom [t]emper’d the bolt, and

turn’d … to his hand Jove / Jupiter /
Zeus‘s commissioned arsenal

 

         Work’d up less flame and fury in its make,

         And quench’d it sooner in the standing lake.

 

this particular thunderbolt therefore

would have been less menacing, in

keeping with Jove / Jupiter / Zeus‘s

wish his dazling lustre to abate

 

         Thus dreadfully adorn’d, with horror bright,

         Th’ illustrious God, descending from his height,

         Came rushing on her in a storm of light.

 

I knew someone who came to me

like that once


         The mortal dame, too feeble to engage         

         The lightning’s flashes, and the thunder’s rage,

         Consum’d amidst the glories she desir’d,

         And in the terrible embrace expir’d.

 

I broke only into a thousand million

pieces, did not expire, but ruefully,

rather, survived, but that’s another

story, perhaps too intimate


         But, to preserve his offspring from the tomb,

 

his offspring, you’ll remember that

Semele was pregnant with Jove /

Jupiter / Zeus‘s child


         Jove took him smoaking from the blasted womb:

 

blasted, destroyed, [c]onsum’d[,]

amidst the glories she desir’d

 

see above

 

         And, if on ancient tales we may rely,

         Inclos’d th’ abortive infant in his thigh.

 

in order to allow it to complete

gestation, Jove / Jupiter / Zeus

incubated th’ abortive infant in

his [own] thigh


         Here when the babe had all his time fulfill’d,

         

Here, in his thigh

 

         Ino first took him for her foster-child;

 

Ino, sister of Semele, with too long

a story here, however fascinating


         Then the Niseans, in their dark abode,

 

Niseans, Nysians, of Nysa, a

mountainous mythical land

beyond Greece, with dark

abode[s], caves, among its

mountains, presumably


         Nurs’d secretly with milk the thriving God.

 

the thriving God, Bacchusthe Roman

Dionysus, god of wine, merriment, and

all kinds of mischievousness, which is

to say bacchanals, Dionysian revelries,

orgies

 

stay tuned

 

 

R ! chard

“Europa’s Rape” (ll) – Ovid

The Rape of Europa, c.1732 - 1734 - Francois Boucher

         The Rape of Europa” (c.1732 – 1734)

 

               François Boucher

 

                      ___________

 

 

            Agenor’s royal daughter, as she plaid

            Among the fields, the milk-white bull survey’d,

 

Agenor, king of Tyre, in Phoenicia,

an area comprised then of ancient

Lebanon, as well as a good part of

the Eastern, and later, the Southern,

which is to say the African,

Mediterranean coasts, father of,

notably, Europa, his royal, his

indeed mythic, daughter 


            And view’d his spotless body with delight,

            And at a distance kept him in her sight.

 

Europa is intrigued, delight[ed], by this

milk-white …spotless …bull, but from

a distance, discreetly, furtively


            At length she pluck’d the rising flow’rs, and fed

            The gentle beast, and fondly stroak’d his head.

 

pluck’d, dared, mischievously, to

confront

 

the rising flowers, offering [their] cup

to the sun

 

            He stood well-pleas’d to touch the charming fair,

            But hardly could confine his pleasure there.

            And now he wantons o’er the neighb’ring strand,

            Now rowls his body on the yellow sand;

 

to wanton, to play, to frolic, often

immodestly, like puppies, goats

 

strand, shore

 

rowls, rolls

 

            And, now perceiving all her fears decay’d,

 

decay’d, dispelled, dissipated,

evaporated

 

            Comes tossing forward to the royal maid;

            Gives her his breast to stroke, and downward turns

            His grizly brow, and gently stoops his horns.

 

grizly, grizzly, grayish


            In flow’ry wreaths the royal virgin drest

 

drest, adorned

 

            His bending horns, and kindly clapt his breast.

            ‘Till now grown wanton and devoid of fear,

            Not knowing that she prest the Thunderer,

 

the Thunderer, Jove / Jupiter / Zeus

 

            She plac’d her self upon his back, and rode

            O’er fields and meadows, seated on the God.

 

however heedlessly, however

immoderately, immodestly,

however innocently

 

see above


            He gently march’d along, and by degrees

            Left the dry meadow, and approach’d the seas;

            Where now he dips his hoofs and wets his thighs,

            Now plunges in, and carries off the prize.

            The frighted nymph looks backward on the shoar,

 

shoar, shore

 

            And hears the tumbling billows round her roar;

            But still she holds him fast: one hand is born

 

born, borne, held

 

            Upon his back; the other grasps a horn:

            Her train of ruffling garments flies behind,

            Swells in the air, and hovers in the wind.

 

see here also for a more windswept

picture of Europamore in keeping

with the last few lines


            Through storms and tempests he the virgin bore,

            And lands her safe on the Dictean shore;

 

Dictean, of Dicte, or Dikti, a mountain

range in Eastern Crete, site of the

Diktaion Antronor Dictaean Cave,

the place where Jove / Jupiter / Zeus

was apparently born, if it wasn’t the

Idaean Cave, which is to say a cave on

Mount Idatherefore Idaean, also in

Crete, both hollows having claimed

the right to be called the site of the

exalted provenance

 

            Where now, in his divinest form array’d,

            In his true shape he captivates the maid;

 

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus manifest, no

longer bull, but divinity, dripping

still in bovine potency, however

residual


            Who gazes on him, and with wond’ring eyes

            Beholds the new majestick figure rise,

            His glowing features, and celestial light,

            And all the God discover’d to her sight.

 

once, to a man who’d bewitched me,

how could you touch me, I wrote, you

must’ve known you would transfix me,

leave me breathless, which he,

however inadvertently, had, did

 

I went on, of course, to not populate

continents, nor to become queen of

Crete, but was Europa, in that

instance, before my own exalted

entity 

 

 

R ! chard

“Europa’s Rape” – Ovid

Bulls, 1948 - Bertalan Por

       Bulls” (1948)

 

               Bertalan Por

 

                           ____

 

 

though I’d heard, indeed, of the rape of

Europa, I wasn’t aware, I’d thought, of

the details, was loathe, therefore, to

read on, in the next segment of Ovid’s

Metamorphoseshaving been earlier

put off by such incidents in that text

 

as it turned out, Europa isn’t raped,

but, rather, abducted, more or less

willingly, however innocently, by

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, and will even,

later, consensually, bear his children

 

who will then migrate, from their base

in Crete, to populate, to people, the

continent which we’ll come to know

as Europe, after their mum

 

but that’s a whole other story

 

meanwhile

 

           When now the God his fury had allay’d,

           And taken vengeance of the stubborn maid,

           From where the bright Athenian turrets rise

           He mounts aloft, and re-ascends the skies.

 

the God, Hermes / Mercury, if you’ll

remember, had just transformed

Aglauros, the stubborn maid, into a

statue for having been impudent

with him, and mounts aloft now,

re-ascends the skies over Athens,

where the damsel had lived


           Jove saw him enter the sublime abodes,

 

the sublime abodes, Olympus,

home of the gods


           And, as he mix’d among the crowd of Gods,

           Beckon’d him out, and drew him from the rest,

           And in soft whispers thus his will exprest.

 

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus wants something

from Hermes / Mercury


           
“My trusty Hermes, by whose ready aid

           Thy sire’s commands are through the world convey’d.

 

sire, Jove / Jupiter / Zeus is the father

of Hermes / Mercury, his sire

 

Hermes / Mercury, the messenger god,

patron of travellers, heralds, newscasters,

those who convey information

through[out] the world


           Resume thy wings, exert their utmost force,

           And to the walls of Sidon speed thy course;

 

Sidon, a city still in Lebanon


           
There find a herd of heifers wand’ring o’er

           The neighb’ring hill, and drive ’em to the shore.”

           Thus spoke the God, concealing his intent.

 

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, the God, has

an ulterior motive, a conceal[ed] …

intent


           The trusty Hermes, on his message went,

           And found the herd of heifers wand’ring o’er

           A neighb’ring hill, and drove ’em to the shore;

 

mission accomplished


           Where the king’s daughter, with a lovely train
           Of fellow-nymphs, was sporting on the plain.

 

the conceal[ed] …intent is exposed,

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, in character,

is on the prowl

 

           The dignity of empire laid aside,

           (For love but ill agrees with kingly pride)

 

power, empire, will not abide being

deprived, we’ve seen ample examples

of that in our, even most recent, past


           The ruler of the skies, the thund’ring God,

           Who shakes the world’s foundations with a nod,

 

Jove / Jupiter, Zeus, god, remember,

of Thunder

 

           Among a herd of lowing heifers ran,

           Frisk’d in a bull, and bellow’d o’er the plain.

 

Frisk’d, accoutered, dressed up as,

in the guise of, a bull

 

           Large rowles of fat about his shoulders clung,

 

rowles, rolls


           And from his neck the double dewlap hung.

 

dewlap, a looseflap of skin hanging

from the throat of some animals, or

birds, cattle, for instance, turkeys,

a wattle


           His skin was whiter than the snow

 

see above

 

                                                             that lies

           Unsully’d by the breath of southern skies;

 

breath of southern skies would

melt away white snow, revealing,

fatefully, ignominiously, patches

of [ ]sully’d earth


           Small shining horns on his curl’d forehead stand,

           As turn’d and polish’d by the work-man’s hand;

           His eye-balls rowl’d, not formidably bright,

 

rowl’d, rolled


           But gaz’d and languish’d with a gentle light.

 

as in doe eyes


           His ev’ry look was peaceful, and exprest

           The softness of the lover in the beast.

 

a wolf, if here a bull, in

sheep’s clothing

 

stay tuned

 

 

R ! chard

“The Story of Calisto” – Ovid

jupiter-and-callisto-1613.jpg!Large

   Jupiter and Callisto (1611 – 1613) 

 

            Peter Paul Rubens

 

                 ___________

 

 

after having read Homer’s Iliad, the 

greatest work of fiction, to my mind, 

ever told, resounding through the 

centuries and millennia with power,

pathos, and profound humanity, I 

found it hard for one reason or 

another to complete other 

acclaimed epics, Virgil’s Aeneid,

for instance, too brimming with 

bombast and bravado, much like

many American war movies,

wherein the Americans win every

conflict, whether or not they’ve 

indeed won, all on their own, with

little acknowledgment of the other

international militaries that might’ve

also played essential roles

 

Ovid’s Metamorphoses, as I read 

on, is becoming more and more 

offensive because of its recurrent

abuse of women, nymphs, virgins,

so that I can no longer champion 

this work, however enthusiastic I

might’ve been at the beginning

 

I’m not ready to personally give it 

up, but intend to relate it in brief

segments, with perhaps, here 

and there, noteworthy verses

 

the myth that follows the 

transformation of Cycnus into 

a swan, and the restoration of

Earth after its near conflagration 

upon the death of Phaeton, has 

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus cast[ing] 

an eye on ev’ry diff’rent coast in 

order to ensure that all is aright,

which it is, and Nature smiles 

again

 

but he spies by chance a nymph,

a follower of Diana, virginal

goddess of the Countryside, and

despite concerns about Juno, his

goddess wife, pursues the maiden

 

who was easy prey, did whate’er a 

virgin cou’d … / With all her might 

against his force … / But how can 

mortal maids contend with Jove?

 

following which Diana arrives with 

her train of nubile followers, to the 

dismay of the young victim, who 

could only try to hide her shame, 

which her altered demeanour 

must’ve somewhat, it is supposed, 

uncovered

 

                   How in the look does conscious guilt appear! 
                   Slowly she mov’d, and loiter’d in the rear; 
                   Nor lightly tripp’d, nor by the Goddess ran, 
                   As once she us’d, the foremost of the train. 

 

but now the moon had nine times 

lost her light, and any doubt about 

her condition was erased, so that 

Diana, unforgiving, a not uncommon 

reaction, I’ve found, among women, 

banished her to eventually alone 

give birth to a son

 

meanwhile Juno, now doubly 

incensed – This boy, she rails, shall 

stand a living mark, to prove / My 

husband’s baseness and the strumpet’s

love – turns the wretched mom into a

bear

 

but when the son had fifteen summers 

told, and came inadvertently upon this 

beast while in the forest, unaware it was 

his mother, and to protect himself, he

 

                                    aim’d a pointed arrow at her breast,  
                   And would have slain his mother in the beast;  
                   But Jove forbad, and snatch’d ’em through  
                   In whirlwinds up to Heav’n, and fix’d ’em there!

 

where now we know them as either 

the Great Bear and the Little Bear, 

Ursa Major and Ursa Minor or, 

more familiarly, as the Big Dipper 

and the Little Dipper

 

who could ‘a’ ever thunk it

 

 

R ! chard

 

 

The Transformation of Syrinx into Reeds

pan-and-syrinx-1619.jpg!Large

   Pan and Syrinx (1617 – 1619) 

 

           Peter Paul Rubens

 

                 __________



               Then Hermes thus: 

 

Hermes, messenger of the gods,

addresses Argus, keeper of Io

who’s been transformed by Jove

god of gods, into a heifer, though 

she remains daughter, ever, of 

Inachus, river god, to tell the

story of his rare, beguiling reeds

 

                                             A nymph of late there was
               Whose heav’nly form her fellows did surpass. 

 

here we go again with nymphs, 

beautiful, irresistible, however 

ever innocent, prey, due, indeed,

to their very beauty, their very

innocence, to lustful, inordinate 

desires, in these instances, 

markedly divine 

 

deities, I point out again, make 

up their own rules


               The pride and joy of fair Arcadia’s plains, 

 

Arcadia, apart from being an 

actual area of Greece, is also 

the ideal, in our historical 

imagination, of an utopia

much as is the lost island of

Atlantis 


               Belov’d by deities, ador’d by swains:
               Syrinx her name, by Sylvans oft pursu’d, 

 

Sylvans, could only be, though

I’ve been unable to find actual 

confirmation of my opinion, 

wood spirits, forest entities, 

satyrs, goat men, and such

 

               As oft she did the lustful Gods delude: 

 

Syrinx could often, or oft, delude, 

or fool, ward off, the lustful Gods

 

               The rural, and the woodland Pow’rs disdain’d; 

 

satyr yourself, Syrinx would’ve 

impudently taunted

 

               With Cynthia hunted, and her rites maintain’d:
               Like Phoebe clad, even Phoebe’s self she seems, 

 

Cynthia, is Phoebe, both also known

as Dianagoddess of the Hunt, you’ll

remember Phoebe / Diana from her

connection to Daphne, who earlier

here was transformed into a laurel 

 

Syrinx sounds an awful lot, incidentally,

like another version of Daphne


               So tall, so streight, such well-proportion’d limbs:
               The nicest eye did no distinction know,
               But that the goddess bore a golden bow: 

 

the only difference between Syrinx

and Cynthia / Phoebe / Diana was 

that Syrinx didn’t have, bear, 

golden bow


               Distinguish’d thus, the sight she cheated too. 

 

had she borne a golden bow, Syrinx

[d]istinguish’d thus, would’ve cheated 

the sight, looked identical, to the 

beautiful, it is inferred, goddess 

 

               Descending from Lycaeus, Pan admires
               The matchless nymph, and burns with new desires. 

 

Pan, god of the wild, woodlands

 

Lycaeus, Latin spelling of Lykaion,

is a mountain in Arcadia


               A crown of pine upon his head he wore;
               And thus began her pity to implore.
               But e’er he thus began, she took her flight
               So swift, she was already out of sight.
               Nor stay’d to hear the courtship of the God;
               But bent her course to Ladon’s gentle flood: 

 

Ladon, a river in Arcadia 

 

flood, rushing, though gentl[y], 

water, rhymes in the preceding 

verse, you’ll note, with God


               There by the river stopt, and tir’d before;
               Relief from water nymphs her pray’rs implore. 

 

Syrinx, once by the river stopt, seeks 

the help of, assistance, [r]elief from, 

the nearby water nymphs, her 

consorts  


               Now while the lustful God, with speedy pace,
               Just thought to strain her in a strict embrace, 

 

Pan, like Phoebus / Apollo, or 

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus before him,

is, as well, and characteristically,

a lustful God


               He fill’d his arms with reeds, new rising on the place.
               And while he sighs, his ill success to find, 

 

his ill success, his thwarted, 

ineffective, enterprise 


               The tender canes were shaken by the wind;
               And breath’d a mournful air, unheard before; 

 

the reeds that Pan gathered in his arms, 

shaken by the wind, create a mournful 

air, a melancholy music


               That much surprizing Pan, yet pleas’d him more. 

 

though Pan might’ve been much

surpriz[ed] by the sorrowful sounds 

he heard, he was more pleas’d by 

them than startled

 

               Admiring this new musick, Thou, he said,
               Who canst not be the partner of my bed,
               At least shall be the confort of my mind: 

 

Thou, Syrinx


               And often, often to my lips be joyn’d. 

 

in a kiss of consolation 


               He form’d the reeds, proportion’d as they are,
               Unequal in their length, and wax’d with care,
               They still retain the name of his ungrateful fair. 

 

the instrument Pan devised from

the tender canes he fashioned

from the unaccommodating reeds, 

what we now name the Pan flute

was called in Ancient Greece a 

syrinx, in honour of the 

recalcitrant nymph 

 

listen, coincidentally, to Debussy 

tell the storyfor solo flute,

however, which is to say, on a

modern instrumentfor our having 

long ago abandoned at a 

professional level the original pipe, 

though it remains, apparently, as a

folk instrument in more agrarian,

communities around the world, for 

shepherds, one would imagine, to

while away the hours while tending

to their, however wayward, sheep 

 

 

R ! chard

 

 

“The Transformation of Io into a Heyfer” (II) – Ovid

Gerbrand_van_den_Eeckhout_-_Juno,_Jupiter_and_Io

   Juno, Jupiter and Io (1672) 

 

          Gerbrand van den Eeckhout

 

                      ________________

        

 

we left Inachus in my last instalment

looking for his daughter, Io

 

              Her, just returning from her father’s brook

 

Her, Io 


              Jove had beheld, with a desiring look: 

 

the sentence structure, as it’s been

crafted in the verses above, has 

been an aspect of Ovid’s poem for 

some time, though, it must again 

be noted, as translated by John 

Dryden, the subject goes where 

the object should go, the sentence 

is inverted

 

the sentence should be, Jove had

beheld her, … just returning from 

her father’s brook

 

but the placement of Her at the 

top of the sentence, and even 

capitalized, is, you must admit,
arresting, and of the highest

poetic order


              And, Oh fair daughter of the flood, he said, 

 

the flood, the many rivers that came 

to comfort Inachus, their sovereign, 

in his distress at having lost Io, his 

daughter, their many surging 

confluences would’ve created 

overflowing torrents, the flood

 

              Worthy alone of Jove’s imperial bed, 

 

Jove thinks Io worthy of no one 

else’s mattress but his own

 

              Happy whoever shall those charms possess;
              The king of Gods (nor is thy lover less)
              Invites thee to yon cooler shades; to shun
              The scorching rays of the meridian sun. 

 

whoever might partake of her charms,

Jove tells Io, would be Happy

 

again an inverted sentence, note

 

but Jove makes his play, flashes 

his pedigree,The king of Gods, 

nothing less, and invites her to a 

shady grove, out of the noonday, 

the meridian, sun


              Nor shalt thou tempt the dangers of the grove
              Alone, without a guide; thy guide is Jove. 

 

Jove / Jupiter, god of gods

 

              No puny Pow’r, but he whose high command
              Is unconfin’d, 

 

Jove / Jupiter is not a nobody, but, 

rather, unconfin’d, omnipotent,

he boasts

 

                                    who rules the seas and land;
              And tempers thunder in his awful hand, 

 

Jove / Jupiter, supreme master of 

the elements


              Oh fly not: 

 

Jove urges Io

 

                                for she fled from his embrace
              O’er Lerna’s pastures: 

 

Lerna, a region of Ancient Greece

 

                                                he pursu’d the chace
              Along the shades of the Lyrcaean plain; 

 

Lyrcaean, after some investigation,

seems to mean from Lycaeus, the

Latin name for Lykaion, a mountain

in Greece, considered by some to

be the birthplace of Jove / Jupiter /

Zeus

 

otherwise, but very improbably, the 

Lyrcaean plain is a literary invention,

of Ovid, or of his translator, Dryden


              At length the God, who never asks in vain,
              Involv’d with vapours, imitating night,
              Both Air, and Earth; 

 

Inform’d with, having transformed 

himself into, vapours, a mist, 

imitating night, shrouding [b]oth 

Air and Earth in darkness, 

becoming himself, therefore, 

indistinct, indefinite, nebulous, 

within them

 

                                              and then suppress’d her flight,
              And mingling force with love, enjoy’d the full delight. 

 

first of all Phoebus / Apollo‘s pursuit 

of Daphne, and now Jove / Jupiter‘s 

constraint of Io, are not admirable

aspects of male deities, indeed in

our age of action against the 

harassment of women, their 

behaviour is disturbing, uncomfortable

for me even to read, I’m too reminded 

of dissolute American CEOs, not to

mention presidents, but concluding 

that this dilemma has been around 

for countless ages among vertebrates,

be they animal, human, or, as in these 

instances, divine, therefore written in 

our antediluvian, our primeval, genes, 

maybe, consequently, ineradicably


              Mean-time the jealous Juno, from on high, 

 

Juno, goddess of goddesses, wife

of Jupiter / Jove


              Survey’d the fruitful fields of Arcady; 

 

Arcady, or Arcadia, a region still 

of Greece


              And wonder’d that the mist shou’d over-run
              The face of day-light, and obscure the sun. 

 

which is to say, Juno, suspicious, 

asks herself, what’s up with that 


              No nat’ral cause she found, from brooks, or bogs,
              Or marshy lowlands, to produce the fogs; 

 

she reckons


              Then round the skies she sought for Jupiter,
              Her faithless husband; but no Jove was there: 

 

Juno knows her Jove / Jupiter

 

              Suspecting now the worst, Or I, she said,
              Am much mistaken, or am much betray’d. 

 

it’s one of two things, Juno figures, 

after [s]uspecting … the worst, I am 

myself in error, she concludes, I am

myself mistaken , or am, by my 

husband, much betray’d 


              With fury she precipitates her flight: 

 

her flight, her plan of action, both

geographical, and tactical


              Dispels the shadows of dissembled night; 

 

dissembled, sham, not actual, Jove / 

Jupiter, if you’ll remember, Involv’d 

with vapours, was imitating night,

not easily visible

 

              And to the day restores his native light. 

 

note that day is masculine here, 

his native light


              Th’ Almighty Leacher, careful to prevent
              The consequence, foreseeing her descent,
              Transforms his mistress in a trice; and now
              In Io’s place appears a lovely cow. 

 

Leacher, lecher

 

in a trice, very quickly, in the bat

of an eyelash

 

a cow 

 

see above


              So sleek her skin, so faultless was her make,
              Ev’n Juno did unwilling pleasure take
              To see so fair a rival of her love; 

 

though transformed into a cow, Io 

remains lovely, even Juno can see 

that, however be she jealous 


              And what she was, and whence, enquir’d of Jove: 

 

where did you get that, Juno asks 

of Jove, surely dryly


              Of what fair herd, and from what pedigree? 

 

and what, and when, and how, she

further inquires, probably acidly 

 

              The God, half caught, was forc’d upon a lye:
              And said she sprung from Earth. 

 

Jove, who’d had to tell a lye, a lie, 

said that the heifer, the altered Io

had sprung, spontaneously, he 

claimed, from the earth

 

                                                     She took the word, 

 

Juno accepted Jove‘s explanation


              And begg’d the beauteous heyfer of her lord. 

 

Juno asks of Jove that she might 

keep the heyfer for herself, the 

heifer, a virgin cow


              What should he do? ’twas equal shame to Jove
              Or to relinquish, or betray his love:
              Yet to refuse so slight a gift, wou’d be
              But more t’ increase his consort’s jealousie: 

 

Jove / Jupiter was in a bind, to

out Io, or to out himself

 

              Thus fear, and love, by turns, his heart assail’d;
              And stronger love had sure, at length, prevail’d:
              But some faint hope remain’d, his jealous queen
              Had not the mistress through the heyfer seen. 

 

if it weren’t for the fact that Juno

maybe, some faint hope, might 

not have recognized Io in the 

heifer, Jove / Jupiter would’ve, 

had sure, eventually, at length, 

confessed to his indiscretion, his

stronger love, having prevail’d


              The cautious Goddess, of her gift possest,
              Yet 
harbour’d anxious thoughts within her breast;
              As she who knew the falshood of her Jove;

 

though Juno has been granted her

request, she remains sceptical, 

knew her husband was prone to

falshood, or falsehood


              And justly fear’d some new relapse of love. 

 

justly, the facts would bear her out, 

were she cognizant of them


              Which to prevent, and to secure her care,
              To trusty Argus she commits the fair. 

 

Argus Panoptes, one of the giants 

who must’ve remained after their 

war 

 

Panoptes, pan optes, Greek for many 

eyes, of which only a few, it came to 

be believed, of Juno‘s entrusted

guardian, slept at a time

 

 

to be continued

 

 

R ! chard

 

“The Transformation of Daphne into a Lawrel” (II) – Ovid

daphne-1892(1).jpg!Large

           “Daphne” (1879 – 1892) 

 

            George Frederick Watts

 

                    __________

 

 

                  The God of light, aspiring to her bed, 

 

The God of light, Phoebus, whose

name, incidentally, finds its roots 

in the Greek word for shining, 

which I won’t inscribe here for its 

being not only in another language,

but also of a different alphabet

 

Phoebus, also known as Apollo

was not only god of Light, but 

too, god of the Sun, as well as of

several other things that brought

clarity, his shrine at Delphi, for

instance, was famed for providing 

oracles, intelligibility in the face of 

confusion, however cryptic the 

actual words of the presiding 

sybil commonly were 

 

               Hopes what he seeks, with flattering fancies fed; 

 

Phoebus [h]opes, indeed trusts, 

that feeding Daphne flattering 

fancies will do the trick

 

               And is, by his own oracles, mis-led. 

 

even his oracles, his sybils, his

priestesses, in this circumstance, 

fail him


               And as in empty fields the stubble burns, 

 

stubble, what’s left of the shaft once 

the grain has been removed, 

harvested 


               Or nightly travellers, when day returns,
               Their useless torches on dry hedges throw,
               That catch the flames, and kindle all the row; 

 

now that day has arrived, the nightly

travellers‘ otherwise useless torches

can serve to kindle, ignite, and burn

off, the rows of slowly smouldering 

stubble  

 

               So burns the God, consuming in desire, 

 

Phoebus is similarly, [s]o, kindled,

burns with a desire [s]o, as, 

consuming


               And feeding in his breast a fruitless fire: 

 

the fire, the desire, however, remains 

in his breast … fruitless, unabated, 

unquenched


               Her well-turn’d neck he view’d (her neck was bare)
               And on her shoulders her dishevel’d hair; 

 

Daphne‘s hair would’ve been 

dishevel’d, undone, during her 

flight, by the wind


               Oh were it comb’d, said he, with what a grace
               Wou’d every waving curl become her face! 

 

Phoebus begins to idealize her


               He view’d her eyes, like heav’nly lamps that shone,
               He view’d her lips, too sweet to view alone,
               Her 
taper fingers, and her panting breast; 

 

see above

  

               He praises all he sees, 

 

his flattering fancies at work 

 

                                              and for the rest
               Believes the beauties yet unseen are best: 

 

Phoebus has no intention of enjoying 

merely what Daphne cannot but allow, 

her beauties yet unseen, he believes, 

are best, are preferable

 

ahem


               Swift as the wind, the damsel fled away,
               Nor did for these alluring speeches stay: 

 

alluring speeches, flattering fancies


               Stay Nymph, he cry’d, I follow, not a foe. 

 

a nymph, a nature spirit in the form 

of a maiden, imagined frolicking by 

rivers, or woods

 

Phoebus calls her by this metonym,

Nymph, probably because he doesn’t 

yet know her proper name

 

a metonym is the word for a part

which signifies the whole, the pen, 

for instance, is mightier than the 

sword, where the pen stands for

all that is written, and the sword 

represents the much larger 

concept of war

 

Nymph, therefore, to metonymize,

to stand in for, any nymph

 

Stay Nymph, Phoebus cries, I follow,

I don’t lead, I am not coercing you, 

you are in charge, I am not a foe, 

not an enemy


               Thus from the lyon trips the trembling doe;
               Thus from the wolf the frighten’d lamb removes,
               And, from pursuing faulcons, fearful doves; 

 

prey flee predators [t]hus, Phoebus

explains, which is to say in the 

manner that you’re behaving


               Thou shunn’st a God, and shunn’st a God, that loves. 

 

but I am not a predator, I am a God,

a God who loves you, who is in love,

he concedes


               Ah, lest some thorn shou’d pierce thy tender foot,
               Or thou shou’dst fall in flying my pursuit!
               To sharp uneven ways thy steps decline;
               Abate thy speed,

 

slow down, he says, Abate thy speed,

you might hurt yourself, you might

pierce thy tender foot, fall, your path 

decline[s], is becoming treacherous, 

less secure, sharp uneven ways lie 

ahead

 

                                           and I will bate of mine. 

 

bate, opposite of abate, don’t you 

love it

 

               Yet think from whom thou dost so rashly fly;
               Nor basely born, nor shepherd’s swain am I. 

 

I carry a big stick, Phoebus says, think

about it 


               Perhaps thou know’st not my superior state;
               And from that ignorance proceeds thy hate. 

 

maybe you haven’t recognized me

 

               Me Claros, Delphi, Tenedos obey; 

 

Claros, an ancient Greek sanctuary,

site of another oracle of Phoebus /

Apollo, along with Delphi, the 

principal shrine 

 

Tenedos, an island off the coast of 

modern Turkey, but under the 

dominion then also of the deity


               These hands the Patareian scepter sway. 

 

scepter, a staff symbolic of sovereignty

 

but I’ve found no source at all for the

indecipherable Patareian, forgive me

 

               The King of Gods begot me: 

 

I am the son, Phoebus proclaims, of 

Jove / Jupiter / Zeus, depending on 

the local vocabulary

 

                                                    what shall be,
               Or is, or ever was, in Fate, I see. 

 

Phoebus, like all the gods, sees

everything, past, present, and 

future


               Mine is th’ invention of the charming lyre; 

 

the lyre, an ancient musical instrument 

often associated with Phoebus /Apollo


               Sweet notes, and heav’nly numbers, I inspire. 

 

Phoebus / Apollo was also god,

among many other things, of 

Music


               Sure is my bow, unerring is my dart;
               But ah! more deadly his, who pierc’d my heart. 

 

Phoebus has ceded to Cupid, and

acknowledges the superiority of

the stripling‘s, the youth’s, sting


               Med’cine is mine; what herbs and simples grow
               In fields, and forrests, all their pow’rs I know; 

 

Phoebus / Apollo is also god of 

Healing


               And am the great physician call’d, below. 

 

that Phoebus / Apollo is god of 

Healing is acknowledged below,

which is to say among earthlings

 

               Alas that fields and forrests can afford.
               No remedies to heal their love-sick lord! 

 

there is no cure, however, for love, 

he moans, the sickness, Alas, No

remedies, among the fields and 

forrests for it


               To cure the pains of love, no plant avails:
               And his own physick, the physician falls. 

 

the physician, Phoebus / Apollo

falls, which must surely be fails

here, to rhyme with avails, an

unfortunate typo, cannot derive

from the ground, from the wealth

of his own domain, the physick,

the ingredients to make up a

medication

 

stay tuned

 

 

R ! chard