LXIV

PELIACO quondam prognatae uertice pinus
dicuntur liquidas Neptuni nasse per undas
Phasidos ad fluctus et fines Aeetaeos,
cum lecti iuuenes, Argiuae robora pubis,
auratam optantes Colchis auertere pellem
ausi sunt uada salsa cita decurrere puppi,
caerula uerrentes abiegnis aequora palmis.
diua quibus retinens in summis urbibus arces
ipsa leui fecit uolitantem flamine currum,
pinea coniungens inflexae texta carinae.
illa rudem cursu prima imbuit Amphitriten;
quae simul ac rostro uentosum proscidit aequor
tortaque remigio spumis incanuit unda,
emersere freti candenti e gurgite uultus
aequoreae monstrum Nereides admirantes.
illa, atque alia, uiderunt luce marinas
mortales oculis nudato corpore Nymphas
nutricum tenus exstantes e gurgite cano.
tum Thetidis Peleus incensus fertur amore,
tum Thetis humanos non despexit hymenaeos,
tum Thetidi pater ipse iugandum Pelea sensit.
o nimis optato saeclorum tempore nati
heroes, saluete, deum genus! o bona matrum
progenies, saluete iter...
uos ego saepe, meo uos carmine compellabo.
teque adeo eximie taedis felicibus aucte,
Thessaliae columen Peleu, cui Iuppiter ipse,
ipse suos diuum genitor concessit amores;
tene Thetis tenuit pulcerrima Nereine?
tene suam Tethys concessit ducere neptem,
Oceanusque, mari totum qui amplectitur orbem?
quae simul optatae finito tempore luces
aduenere, domum conuentu tota frequentat
Thessalia, oppletur laetanti regia coetu:
dona ferunt prae se, declarant gaudia uultu.
deseritur Cieros, linquunt Pthiotica Tempe
Crannonisque domos ac moenia Larisaea,
Pharsalum coeunt, Pharsalia tecta frequentant.
rura colit nemo, mollescunt colla iuuencis,
non humilis curuis purgatur uinea rastris,
non glebam prono conuellit uomere taurus,
non falx attenuat frondatorum arboris umbram,
squalida desertis rubigo infertur aratris.
ipsius at sedes, quacumque opulenta recessit
regia, fulgenti splendent auro atque argento.
candet ebur soliis, collucent pocula mensae,
tota domus gaudet regali splendida gaza.
puluinar uero diuae geniale locatur
sedibus in mediis, Indo quod dente politum
tincta tegit roseo conchyli purpura fuco.
haec uestis priscis hominum uariata figures
heroum mira uirtutes indicat arte.

namque fluentisono prospectans litore Diae,
Thesea cedentem celeri cum classe tuetur
indomitos in corde gerens Ariadna furores,
necdum etiam sese quae uisit uisere credit,
utpote fallaci quae tum primum excita somno
desertam in sola miseram se cernat harena.
immemor at iuuenis fugiens pellit uada remis,
irrita uentosae linquens promissa procellae.
quem procul ex alga maestis Minois ocellis,
saxea ut effigies bacchantis, prospicit, eheu,
prospicit et magnis curarum fluctuat undis,
non flauo retinens subtilem uertice mitram,
non contecta leui uelatum pectus amictu,
non tereti strophio lactentis uincta papillas,
omnia quae toto delapsa e corpore passim
ipsius ante pedes fluctus salis alludebant.
sed neque tum mitrae neque tum fluitantis amictus
illa uicem curans toto ex te pectore, Theseu,
toto animo, tota pendebat perdita mente.
misera, assiduis quam luctibus externauit
spinosas Erycina serens in pectore curas,
illa tempestate, ferox quo ex tempore Theseus
egressus curuis e litoribus Piraei
attigit iniusti regis Gortynia templa.

nam perhibent olim crudeli peste coactam
Androgeoneae poenas exsoluere caedis
electos iuuenes simul et decus innuptarum
Cecropiam solitam esse dapem dare Minotauro.
quis angusta malis cum moenia uexarentur,
ipse suum Theseus pro caris corpus Athenis
proicere optauit potius quam talia Cretam
funera Cecropiae nec funera portarentur.
atque ita naue leui nitens ac lenibus auris
magnanimum ad Minoa uenit sedesque superbas.
hunc simul ac cupido conspexit lumine uirgo
regia, quam suauis exspirans castus odores
lectulus in molli complexu matris alebat,
quales Eurotae praecingunt flumina myrtus
auraue distinctos educit uerna colores,
non prius ex illo flagrantia declinauit
lumina, quam cuncto concepit corpore flammam
funditus atque imis exarsit tota medullis.
heu misere exagitans immiti corde furores
sancte puer, curis hominum qui gaudia misces,
quaeque regis Golgos quaeque Idalium frondosum,
qualibus incensam iactastis mente puellam
fluctibus, in flauo saepe hospite suspirantem!
quantos illa tulit languenti corde timores!
quanto saepe magis fulgore expalluit auri,
cum saeuum cupiens contra contendere monstrum
aut mortem appeteret Theseus aut praemia laudis!
non ingrata tamen frustra munuscula diuis
promittens tacito succepit uota labello.
nam uelut in summo quatientem brachia Tauro
quercum aut conigeram sudanti cortice pinum
indomitus turbo contorquens flamine robur,
eruit (illa procul radicitus exturbata
prona cadit, late quaeuis cumque obuia frangens,)
sic domito saeuum prostrauit corpore Theseus
nequiquam uanis iactantem cornua uentis.
inde pedem sospes multa cum laude reflexit
errabunda regens tenui uestigia filo,
ne labyrintheis e flexibus egredientem
tecti frustraretur inobseruabilis error.

sed quid ego a primo digressus carmine plura
commemorem, ut linquens genitoris filia uultum,
ut consanguineae complexum, ut denique matris,
quae misera in gnata deperdita laeta
omnibus his Thesei dulcem praeoptarit amorem:
aut ut uecta rati spumosa ad litora Diae
aut ut eam deuinctam lumina somno
liquerit immemori discedens pectore coniunx?
saepe illam perhibent ardenti corde furentem
clarisonas imo fudisse e pectore uoces,
ac tum praeruptos tristem conscendere montes,
unde aciem pelagi uastos protenderet aestus,
tum tremuli salis aduersas procurrere in undas
mollia nudatae tollentem tegmina surae,
atque haec extremis maestam dixisse querellis,
frigidulos udo singultus ore cientem:

'sicine me patriis auectam, perfide, ab aris
perfide, deserto liquisti in litore, Theseu?
sicine discedens neglecto numine diuum,
immemor a! deuota domum periuria portas?
nullane res potuit crudelis flectere mentis
consilium? tibi nulla fuit clementia praesto,
immite ut nostri uellet miserescere pectus?
at non haec quondam blanda promissa dedisti
uoce mihi, non haec miserae sperare iubebas,
sed conubia laeta, sed optatos hymenaeos,
quae cuncta aereii discerpunt irrita uenti.
nunc iam nulla uiro iuranti femina credat,
nulla uiri speret sermones esse fideles;
quis dum aliquid cupiens animus praegestit apisci,
nil metuunt iurare, nihil promittere parcunt:
sed simul ac cupidae mentis satiata libido est,
dicta nihil metuere, nihil periuria curant.
certe ego te in medio uersantem turbine leti
eripui, et potius germanum amittere creui,
quam tibi fallaci supremo in tempore dessem.
pro quo dilaceranda feris dabor alitibusque
praeda, neque iniacta tumulabor mortua terra.
quaenam te genuit sola sub rupe leaena,
quod mare conceptum spumantibus exspuit undis,
quae Syrtis, quae Scylla rapax, quae uasta Carybdis,
talia qui reddis pro dulci praemia uita?
si tibi non cordi fuerant conubia nostra,
saeua quod horrebas prisci praecepta parentis,
attamen in uestras potuisti ducere sedes,
quae tibi iucundo famularer serua labore,
candida permulcens liquidis uestigia lymphis,
purpureaue tuum consternens ueste cubile.
sed quid ego ignaris nequiquam conquerar auris,
externata malo, quae nullis sensibus auctae
nec missas audire queunt nec reddere uoces?
ille autem prope iam mediis uersatur in undis,
nec quisquam apparet uacua mortalis in alga.
sic nimis insultans extremo tempore saeua
fors etiam nostris inuidit questibus auris.
Iuppiter omnipotens, utinam ne tempore primo
Gnosia Cecropiae tetigissent litora puppes,
indomito nec dira ferens stipendia tauro
perfidus in Cretam religasset nauita funem,
nec malus hic celans dulci crudelia forma
consilia in nostris requiesset sedibus hospes!
nam quo me referam? quali spe perdita nitor?
Idaeosne petam montes? at gurgite lato
discernens ponti truculentum diuidit aequor.
an patris auxilium sperem? quemne ipsa reliqui
respersum iuuenem fraterna caede secuta?
coniugis an fido consoler memet amore?
quine fugit lentos incuruans gurgite remos?
praeterea nullo colitur sola insula tecto,
nec patet egressus pelagi cingentibus undis.
nulla fugae ratio, nulla spes: omnia muta,
omnia sunt deserta, ostentant omnia letum.
non tamen ante mihi languescent lumina morte,
nec prius a fesso secedent corpore sensus,
quam iustam a diuis ecam prodita multam
caelestumque fidem postrema comprecer hora.
quare facta uirum multantes uindice poena
Eumenides, quibus anguino redimita capillo
frons exspirantis praeportat pectoris iras,
huc huc aduentate, meas audite querellas,
quas ego, uae misera, extremis proferre medullis
cogor inops, ardens, amenti caeca furore.
quae quoniam uerae nascuntur pectore ab imo,
uos nolite pati nostrum uanescere luctum,
sed quali solam Theseus me mente reliquit,
tali mente, deae, funestet seque suosque.'

has postquam maesto profudit pectore uoces,
supplicium saeuis ecens anxia factis,
annuit inuicto caelestum numine rector;
quo motu tellus atque horrida contremuerunt
aequora concussitque micantia sidera mundus.
ipse autem caeca mentem caligine Theseus
consitus oblito dimisit pectore cuncta,
quae mandata prius constanti mente tenebat,
dulcia nec maesto sustollens signa parenti
sospitem Erechtheum se ostendit uisere portum.
namque ferunt olim, classi cum moenia diuae
linquentem gnatum uentis concrederet Aegeus,
talia complexum iuueni mandata dedisse:

'gnate mihi longa iucundior unice uita, 
gnate, ego quem in dubios cogor dimittere casus,
reddite in extrema nuper mihi fine senectae,
quandoquidem fortuna mea ac tua feruida uirtus
eripit inuito mihi te, cui languida nondum
lumina sunt gnati cara saturata figura,
non ego te gaudens laetanti pectore mittam,
nec te ferre sinam fortunae signa secundae,
sed primum multas expromam mente querellas,
canitiem terra atque infuso puluere foedans,
inde infecta uago suspendam lintea malo,
nostros ut luctus nostraeque incendia mentis
carbasus obscurata dicet ferrugine Hibera.
quod tibi si sancti concesserit incola Itoni,
quae nostrum genus ac sedes defendere Erecthei
annuit, ut tauri respergas sanguine dextram,
tum uero facito ut memori tibi condita corde
haec uigeant mandata, nec ulla oblitteret aetas;
ut simul ac nostros inuisent lumina collis,
funestam antennae deponant undique uestem,
candidaque intorti sustollant uela rudentes,
quam primum cernens ut laeta gaudia mente
agnoscam, cum te reducem aetas prospera sistet.'

haec mandata prius constanti mente tenentem
Thesea ceu pulsae uentorum flamine nubes
aereum niuei montis liquere cacumen.
at pater, ut summa prospectum ex arce petebat,
anxia in assiduos absumens lumina fletus,
cum primum infecti conspexit lintea ueli,
praecipitem sese scopulorum e uertice iecit,
amissum credens immiti Thesea fato.
sic funesta domus ingressus tecta paterna
morte ferox Theseus, qualem Minoidi luctum
obtulerat mente immemori, talem ipse recepit.
quae tum prospectans cedentem maesta carinam
multiplices animo uoluebat saucia curas.

at parte ex alia florens uolitabat Iacchus
cum thiaso Satyrorum et Nysigenis Silenis,
te quaerens, Ariadna, tuoque incensus amore.
quae tum alacres passim lymphata mente furebant
euhoe bacchantes, euhoe capita inflectentes.
harum pars tecta quatiebant cuspide thyrsos,
pars e diuolso iactabant membra iuuenco,
pars sese tortis serpentibus incingebant,
pars obscura cauis celebrabant orgia cistis,
orgia quae frustra cupiunt audire profani;
plangebant aliae proceris tympana palmis,
aut tereti tenuis tinnitus aere ciebant;
multis raucisonos efflabant cornua bombos
barbaraque horribili stridebat tibia cantu.
talibus amplifice uestis decorata figuris
puluinar complexa suo uelabat amictu.
quae postquam cupide spectando Thessala pubes
expleta est, sanctis coepit decedere diuis.

hic, qualis flatu placidum mare matutino
horrificans Zephyrus procliuas incitat undas,
Aurora exoriente uagi sub limina Solis,
quae tarde primum clementi flamine pulsae
procedunt leuiterque sonant plangore cachinni,
post uento crescente magis magis increbescunt,
purpureaque procul nantes ab luce refulgent:
sic tum uestibuli linquentes regia tecta
ad se quisque uago passim pede discedebant.
quorum post abitum princeps e uertice Pelei
aduenit Chiron portans siluestria dona:
nam quoscumque ferunt campi, quos Thessala magnis
montibus ora creat, quos propter fluminis undas
aura parit flores tepidi fecunda Fauoni,
hos indistinctis plexos tulit ipse corollis,
quo permulsa domus iucundo risit odore.

confestim Penios adest, uiridantia Tempe,
Tempe, quae siluae cingunt super impendentes,
Minosim linquens doris celebranda choreis,
non uacuos: namque ille tulit radicitus altas
fagos ac recto proceras stipite laurus,
non sine nutanti platano lentaque sorore
flammati Phaethontis et aerea cupressu.
haec circum sedes late contexta locauit,
uestibulum ut molli uelatum fronde uireret.

post hunc consequitur sollerti corde Prometheus,
extenuata gerens ueteris uestigia poenae,
quam quondam silici restrictus membra catena
persoluit pendens e uerticibus praeruptis.

inde pater diuum sancta cum coniuge natisque
aduenit caelo, te solum, Phoebe, relinquens
unigenamque simul cultricem montibus Idri:
Pelea nam tecum pariter soror aspernata est,
nec Thetidis taedas uoluit celebrare iugales.

qui postquam niueis flexerunt sedibus artus
large multiplici constructae sunt dape mensae,
cum interea infirmo quatientes corpora motu
ueridicos Parcae coeperunt edere cantus.
his corpus tremulum complectens undique uestis
candida purpurea talos incinxerat ora,
at roseae niueo residebant uertice uittae,
aeternumque manus carpebant rite laborem.
laeua colum molli lana retinebat amictum,
dextera tum leuiter deducens fila supinis
formabat digitis, tum prono in pollice torquens
libratum tereti uersabat turbine fusum,
atque ita decerpens aequabat semper opus dens,
laneaque aridulis haerebant morsa labellis,
quae prius in leui fuerant exstantia filo:
ante pedes autem candentis mollia lanae
uellera uirgati custodibant calathisci.
haec tum clarisona pellentes uellera uoce
talia diuino fuderunt carmine fata,
carmine, perfidiae quod post nulla arguet aetas.

o decus eximium magnis uirtutibus augens,
Emathiae tutamen, Opis carissime nato,
accipe, quod laeta tibi pandunt luce sorores,
ueridicum oraclum: sed uos, quae fata sequuntur,
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

adueniet tibi iam portans optata maritis
Hesperus, adueniet fausto cum sidere coniunx,
quae tibi flexanimo mentem perfundat amore,
languidulosque paret tecum coniungere somnos,
leuia substernens robusto bracchia collo.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

nulla domus tales umquam contexit amores,
nullus amor tali coniunxit foedere amantes,
qualis adest Thetidi, qualis concordia Peleo.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

nascetur uobis expers terroris Achilles,
hostibus haud tergo, sed forti pectore notus,
qui persaepe uago uictor certamine cursus
flammea praeuertet celeris uestigia ceruae.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

non illi quisquam bello se conferet heros,
cum Phrygii Teucro manabunt sanguine
Troicaque obsidens longinquo moenia bello,
periuri Pelopis uastabit tertius heres.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

illius egregias uirtutes claraque facta
saepe fatebuntur gnatorum in funere matres,
cum incultum cano soluent a uertice crinem,
putridaque infirmis uariabunt pectora palmis.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

namque uelut densas praecerpens messor aristas
sole sub ardenti flauentia demetit arua,
Troiugenum infesto prosternet corpora ferro.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

testis erit magnis uirtutibus unda Scamandri,
quae passim rapido diffunditur Hellesponto,
cuius iter caesis angustans corporum aceruis
alta tepefaciet permixta flumina caede.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

denique testis erit morti quoque reddita praeda,
cum teres excelso coaceruatum aggere bustum
excipiet niueos perculsae uirginis artus.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

nam simul ac fessis dederit fors copiam Achiuis
urbis Dardaniae Neptunia soluere uincla,
alta Polyxenia madefient caede sepulcra;
quae, uelut ancipiti succumbens uictima ferro,
proiciet truncum summisso poplite corpus.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

quare agite optatos animi coniungite amores.
accipiat coniunx felici foedere diuam,
dedatur cupido iam dudum nupta marito.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

non illam nutrix orienti luce reuisens
hesterno collum poterit circumdare filo,
anxia nec mater discordis maesta puellae
secubitu caros mittet sperare nepotes.
currite ducentes subtegmina, currite, fusi.

talia praefantes quondam felicia Pelei
carmina diuino cecinerunt pectore Parcae.
praesentes namque ante domos inuisere castas
heroum, et sese mortali ostendere coetu,
caelicolae nondum spreta pietate solebant.
saepe pater diuum templo in fulgente reuisens,
annua cum festis uenissent sacra diebus,
conspexit terra centum procumbere tauros.
saepe uagus Liber Parnasi uertice summo
Thyiadas effusis euantis crinibus egit,
cum Delphi tota certatim ex urbe ruentes
acciperent laeti diuum fumantibus aris.
saepe in letifero belli certamine Mauors
aut rapidi Tritonis era aut Amarunsia uirgo
armatas hominum est praesens hortata cateruas.
sed postquam tellus scelere est imbuta nefando
iustitiamque omnes cupida de mente fugarunt,
perfudere manus fraterno sanguine fratres,
destitit extinctos gnatus lugere parentes,
optauit genitor primaeui funera nati,
liber ut innuptae poteretur flore nouercae,
ignaro mater substernens se impia nato
impia non uerita est diuos scelerare penates.
omnia fanda nefanda malo permixta furore
iustificam nobis mentem auertere deorum.
quare nec talis dignantur uisere coetus,
nec se contingi patiuntur lumine claro.

64

The Pelion range, vertical pine fir once descended,
it is said, whirled through Neptune’s weave of liquid rivers.
The Phasis flowed to the edge of Aeetes’ kingdom in Colchis
when the youth were bred hard on Grecian strength
wishing to come back with a golden fleece over the Black Sea.
Quick through a salt straight, a ship’s stern drags.
Oars of pinewood palm the flat cerulean sea.
A goddess observes from the highest arch of the city.
She makes wind run light.  The flap of wing flutter
and pine mix in the bend and weave of ship cloth. 
The first soaked from this rough rushing was Amphitrite.
The hull, full of wind, plowed the flats curling up,
and in the rowing, water grew gray foam.
Foam emerging from white glints on the straight, the swirl
of sea shadows, a sign that the Nereids are wondering.
And nowhere else had the eyes of a mortal nursed on
the naked bodies of Nymphs, than on the swirl
of silver light seen there in the sea.
And then King Peleus caught fire with love for Thetis,
and Thetis did not object to a human marriage,
and Thetis’ father understood, so he married her to Peleus.
O excessive wish!  To be born when
heroes bred with gods. Hello, o soft lineage
of a mistress. Hello to soft wanderings.
I’d frequent your purity.  I’d call you by song.
And I’d come carrying pine torches
to the heights of Thessaly for Peleus, whom Jupiter
allowed to love this goddess he created.
Did Nereus’ beautiful Thetis hold you?
Did Thetis let you draw her granddaughter together with
Oceanus? They curl around the sea everywhere in embrace.
At once, a wish arrives on the edge of light.
All came crowding the house
in Thessaly, fat from sweet royalty.
They brought gifts, their faces were clear expressions of joy.
They deserted Cieros.  They left Tempe
and the homes of Crannon and the walls of Larissa.
They came to Pharsalus, crowding into Pharsalus.
Young necks soften—No one cultivates the land.
No curl of vine is purged with earth plows.
No sickle strips the shade of trees.
No bull plows its cock through a clump of dirt.
The deserted plow is covered with unkempt rust.
Peleus is in his home, reclining in the lavish
palace—bright flashes of gold and white metal.
His seat is a brilliant ivory. Goblets glow on the table.
The whole house enjoys the gorgeous treasures of royalty.
In fact, the bridal bed of the goddess is set
in the middle of his home draped with a rose tint—
polished Indian tusks painted with purple shells,
and an ancient tapestry filled with wonderful heroes,
varying shapes, the virtues of art.

Ariadna watches Theseus from the distant flowing
shores of Naxos. He moves with his quick fleet.
Her heart is wild now.
She still does not believe that she sees what she sees,
or the possibility that she may be waking, deceived by sleep,
or deserted, alone in her misery, sifting the sand
while that youth flees unaware.  Oars push through
the shallows, leaving excited and full of wind.
From the seaweed, the sad eyes of Minos’ daughter, like a statue
of a bacchante, look out at that distant imitation,
She looks out with passion and the great waves curl and crash.
She does not keep the fine spun gold turban on her head,
and does not cover her naked chest with a loose wrap,
and does not bind her round milky breasts in a bodice.
All these slip under the feet of her fleshy body
as she played with the surging waves of salt.
She did not care for her turban then, or the flowing
wrap in the water, but for you Theseus, her whole heart,
whole spirit, and her whole desperate mind hung
miserably. She continued to wrestle with her desires.
Venus lined her heart with thorns
when Theseus set out from the curving
shores of Piraeus and that ferocious wind hit
the Gortynian temple of the unjust king.

At this time, they tell of an infectious epidemic
that coldly killed the king of Crete, Androgeos.
The Cercropian citadel was to give a banquet for the Minotaur,
with the best youths and equally brilliant maidens.
When these narrow walls shook with evil,
Theseus chose to rush forward, offering his body
for Athens, preferring a certain death
to the rising deaths in the Cercropia.
And so he came on the course of sleek light and slick wind
to the massive and tyrannical seat of Minos
As soon as the young daughter caught sight of him
in the palace, she exhaled a scent like virgin lust
in her bed, still nursed on her mother’s soft embrace,
like myrtle berry on the streams of Eurotas—
a distinct breath drawn out of green colors.
The sight of him before her burned.
It took hold of her entire body. A flame
dug at all of her innermost marrow.
O the miserable frenzy you excite with an unripe heart!
Sacred boy, you confuse happiness with human desire.
And you reign in Golgi and in the forests of Idalia.
On what waves did you hurl her flaring mind,
sighing for the stranger with yellow hair?
How much fear did she hold in her heart?
How often did she turn pale as great flashes of gold?
When raging with desire against the monster,
Theseus strode toward death or hard fought glory.
Not unlike little prayers offered to gods,
a useless promise set fire from her lips.
Just as tree branches shake as high as Taurus
or as cones drip off pine bark,
an untamed wind twists the whirling oak.
Roots thrust up in the distance, torn
and bent over, still twitching.
Theseus arches over the raging body,
arms raised in the vacant wind.
Then he retraced his untouched tracks,
roaming this thin thread,
unaffected by the twisting labyrinths.
He wanders on unnoticed.

But why should I digress from the first song?  Should I
mention more?  How the daughter in clear sight of her father,
her embracing sister, and finally her mother,
lost in misery weeping for her child,
chose Theseus’ sweet love over everything.
Or how the ship carried on to the foaming shores of Naxos,
or how he fled by lamplight while she slept, or how
he floated away unconcerned and severed her heart.
They say she burned furiously and her voice was often
heard clear, flying out of her heart and chest.
She would sadly climb steep mountains,
stretch her sharp eyes on the vacant sea surge,
then run down to the tremendous sea swells in front of her,
lifting the soft cover from her naked calf.
These last mournful complaints came
cold and damp from her sobbing lips:

“So I am carried far away from my father. Faithless!
Faithless! I’m deserted on the shore, Theseus.
So you leave for home neglecting the consent of gods? 
Are you not concerned with your devotion to broken promises?
Is there nothing able to curve your cruel mind?
Was there no mercy present
in your unripe heart to pluck away this misery?
These were not the coaxing promises that your voice
once offered me. You did not excite me to search for misery,
but a happy marriage, a perfect wedding;
all that the wind shatters in vain.
Let no woman believe a man’s promise ever again.
No one look for faith in any man’s speech.
When their spirit eagerly desires to examine something,
they are not afraid to promise.  They spare no act.
But as soon as the mind’s desire for lust is satisfied,
they remember nothing said.  The liars run.
The truth? I snatched you from the spiraling whirl
of death and let my brother slip.
You rose from this with lies and soon failed me.
You tore me to pieces like prey, and then
cast my corpse on the earth without a burial.
What lioness gave birth to you under a lonely cliff?
What sea conceived you and spit you from the foaming waves?
What Syrtis? What ravaging Scylla? What waste of Charybdis?
Who returns this kind of reward for sweet life?
Your heart shivers with horror from our marriage.
And now my father is raging. Still,
you could have led me to your home
and I would have pleased you, serving you like a slave,
caressing your white feet with spring water,
covering your bed with a purple tapestry.
But why should I complain to an ignorant ear?
I wish his senses were made greater and strange,
unable to hear any message or return with any voice.
And let him toss about in the waves where no humans
appear on the vast ocean or in the seaweed.
So this excessive rage springs one last time—
So fortune will hear this lament again—
All powerful Jupiter, I wish that Cercropian ship
never touched the Cnosian shore,
or that this faithless wanderer never tied his cable
in Crete, bearing a tribute to the untamed bull,
or that this evil figure, cruelly sweet, came
to rest in our home as a guest.
Will I return? What devastated wish do I lean on?
Aim for the Idaean mountains?  What bridge divides
the swirling abyss and the ferocious stretch of sea?
Wish for my father’s help? What is left of it?
I pursued my young brother’s murderer.
Perhaps I’ll trust in my husband’s love to console me?
He flees bending his oars in the swirling current.
Besides, the island is remote. The hills hide everything.
The sea is not open. Waves swell.
No means of flight.  No hope.  All is silent.
All is lost. It all points at death.
But my life will not hang limp before mortality.
And my senses will not leave my exhausted body.
I will beg for justice from the gods for this betrayal
and faithfully pray to the heavens in my final hour.
What payments are claimed for these deeds of men?
You Gracious Bacchantes, your snake hair coils
on your forehead. Bring wrath from your heaving chests.
Come here. Come here! And listen to my complaint,
which I— fuck it. Misery deep in my bones—
helpless, burning, mad blind fury.
Since this truly comes from the depths of my heart,
do not let this lament disappear.
Just as the mind of Theseus left me alone, with a like mind,
goddesses, pollute him and his kind with death.”

After her voice poured out of her sad heart,
she anxiously begged that these cruel acts be punished.
The heavens nodded with approval.
Then the earth moved and the rough sea trembled.
The universe violently shook the stars out of order.
The vague mind of Theseus—a mist forms,
pressing violently on his heart,
which once held his mind still.
He forgot to raise the signal of his safety
for his father, whose eyes stretched on the Athenian harbor.
They say that when Aegeus
was trusting his son to the wind, leaving the walls
of the goddess, he embraced him, giving this order:

“My son, my only pleasure from this long life,
just returned to me at the end of my old age—
My son, who I send off toward dangerous places—
Since my fortune and your fiery virtue
have snatched you from me against my will, I’m weak.
I won’t be satisfied, my precious son, with just your image.
I will not let you go cheerfully from my heart,
nor let you bear marks of an inferior fate.
So keep these many warnings in mind.
I will pour earth and dust on my gray head.
Hang dyed linens on your roaming mast
until my sadness and my incensed mind
are covered in a red Spanish rust.
And if you leave the land of sacred Itonius,
who nods at all of us and our race, defended by the throne
of Erechtheus. Splash the blood of that bull on your right hand.
Make sure my commands thrive from your heart.
And polish your memory.  Let no summer wind shatter you.
As the light visits our high hills,
lay down your uniform, polluted with death.
Raise up the sail cloth, white and twisted, on the creaking mast,
so that my happy mind will be able to watch
you return to stay here for a lifetime.”

At first, Theseus grasped this order with a firm mind
like blasts of wind that push clouds
from mountains of snow, melting away.
But when his father, anxious and constantly reduced
to tears, watched from the highest peak,
he cast himself from the top of a cliff,
after he caught sight of the swollen sail cloth,
believing Theseus slipped into an unripe fate.
So, entering his home, fierce Theseus, crushed
with his father’s death because of his forgetful mind,
suffered and mourned like Minos.
While she replays the ship’s wake fading in her mind,
her wounded spirit turns with so much pain.

In another part of the flowing tapestry, Bacchus is
searching for you, Ariadna, with the apish Satyrs
who have horses tails, and with his tutor Seleni.
Bacchus is incensed with love for you, Ariadna.
The wild bacchantes are raging frantically,
howling Evoe!, their big hair sways, howling Evoe!
Some shake thyrsi staffs and spears.
Some toss the torn limbs of cows.
Some wreathe themselves with twisting snakes.
Some crowd in a room for a secret orgy.
Others pound tambourines with their palms
and make the air thin with the round pierce
of brash horns, booming with strange
blows. A horrifying flute shrieks.
These figures are woven in the wonderful tapestry.
This wrap folds over the couch,
and the Thessalian youths look at it longingly,
before they bow to these sacred gods.

Here, a certain breath of west wind on the placid sea
incites rough sloping waves at dawn.
Aurora rises vague under the open Sun.
The pulse of gentle wind, sluggish at first,
rises lightly and cuts into a cackle.
As the wind grows and grows more
and purple light reflects in the distance,
they leave the royal vestibule—
Vague feet roaming in every direction.
After they left whirling Pelion, led by Chiron,
they arrived carrying gifts from the forest,
from the open plains, from Thessaly’s great
mountains creating borders, from the flowing waters.
Like the warm west wind of Favonius that uncovers flowers,
he brought these woven gifts in a tangled wreath,
which stroked the house smiling with its perfume.

The Peneus river is there. Tempe is green—
Tempe, surrounded by high hanging trees.
Minos leaves the dancing crowds in Doris,
and not empty handed!  He carried the long roots
of a beach tree, and stiff branches from tall bay trees,
and he was not without the leaning nod of the plane tree,
sister of flaming Phaeton and the airy cypress.
He wove these around their home
so that their vestibule was draped with soft green leaves.

Here, the careful heart of Prometheus
is reduced to the trace of his punishment.
The scars from how his limbs hung on that cliff
were shafts of light on a steep mountain.

Here comes the father of the gods with his children
and his holy wife. You’re alone in the sky Phoebus,
abandoned and served by your sister in the mountains of Idrus.
Your sister is as disgusted as you were of Peleus. She did not wish to gather
for Thetis’ great wedding ceremony among the crowds holding pine torches.

Here, after they stretched in sculpted snow couches,
heaps of banquet food were piled up and multiplied.
The faint shivering body of Parcae, goddess of Fate,
began chanting and they were dancing with divine wisdom.
Their trembling bodies embraced every fold in the flow
of their white robes fringed with a flash of purple.
Rose ribbons hang from their snow soft hair.
Their hands of pious labor gather up eternity.
To their left, a cloth strainer collects supple wool,
and on their right, a thread is drawn down lightly, turned
back up around their fingers, and leaning forward, they twist it
over their thumb so it moves the spool and spins out.
And in this way, with one arm extended, they snap off equal strips
with their teeth. Bits of wool linger on their dry lips.
The thread is stretched and smoothed out
in piles of pale white wool. Below their feet,
there is a wicker basket made of willow which holds the thread
that they pick at. And with a clear voice,
they pour out an old song of divine fate;
a song that has never lied:

“O grace of eminent and increasing great virtue!
From Emathia, protector of Thessaly, to the son of Ops, goddess of plenty,
accept this divine oracle, which these sisters spread out
for you in sleek light.  And you must run. The Fates will follow.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“He will come again to you with the promise of marriage.
This Hesperus—He will come with a blessing from the stars,
which he will pour over your mind and sway you in the liquidness
and he will love you.  He will join you with the drugs of sleep.
A smooth forearm spreads under his strong neck.  You must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“No house ever held such a love.
No love ever joined such lovers
like that of Thetis together with Peleus.  So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“Achilles will be born to you, void of fear.
No stranger will know his back, but his brave chest
will often be wide when he sprints away in victory
with flaming footsteps left behind him.  So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“No hero will ever match him in war.
When Teucrian blood flows on the Phrygian plain
and the Trojan walls are laid to waste in the long war,
the third heir of Pelops will leave as a liar. So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“This man, with distinguished virtue and the strength of clarity,
is often acknowledged by mothers at the funerals of their sons
with an uncontrolled sobbing chant.  Their faint hands switch
from their frayed hair to their chest. So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“For just as the thick beards of corn are plucked
under the fiery sun in an early harvest of yellow fields,
the bodies of the sons of Troy are slain with iron.  So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“The test of his great virtue will be the Scamander river
rushing out to Hellespont Strait,
rising where its journey reaches a heap of bodies—
carcasses making the water warm. So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“His last test will be returned with the great prize of death,
when he will remove from the heights of this slaughtered heap,
a snow soft virgin curled up.  So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“Fortune gives the weary Achaens the power
to free the Dardanian city surrounded by Neptune’s sea.
The high tomb will moisten with the blood of Polyzena, the great-
granddaughter of Achilles. She bows beneath the double-edged sword.
Her headless body bent forward on one knee. So you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“Whoever excites the wish of souls in love to unite,
accept this wife as a chance to bond with the divine and
give this bride the desire for an everlasting marriage.  And you must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

“With the East light rising, the nurse returns,
unable to wrap yesterday’s necklace around
this sobbing girl who lies alone and squirms.  Her anxious mother 
will not let go of the desire for grandchildren. You must run.
Draw the spindles and run with the threads of Fate.”

There was once a prayer of this kind for the fortune of Peleus.
It was a divine song, like smoke from the chests of these goddesses of Fate.
It was once their habit to visit the sacred homes
of heroes and stretch themselves before humans, uniting them
with the heavens, but not after piety was desecrated.
Often the Father of the gods returns to his glamorous temple.
When the sacred festivals come, they come
on the image of a hundred bulls lunging toward the earth.
Often the vegetation of Liber roams to the highest summit of Parnassus—
Outbursts of “Evoe!” from the long hair of the Thyades.
When will every Delphian, flowing fiercely from the city,
accept the joy of the smoke-streaming alter to the gods?
Often in the certain death of war, either Mars
or the swift mistress of Triton or the virgin of Rhamnusia
incite groups of men to take up arms.
But after the earth becomes saturated in this pollution,
and everyone’s desire for justice flies from the mind,
and brothers soak their hands in their brothers’ blood,
and the child is left alone to mourn his parents’ death,
the father wishes for the early funeral of his son
to freely drink the flower of the new bride.
The unfaithful mother spreads herself under an ignorant son,
polluting the divine truth of the Penates—
Every evil is promiscuous, right or wrong, and frantically
leads us away from the fair minds of the gods,
where it is not worth it to know such a union
or to brush oneself against the loudness of light.