by Nonnus
150 ὧν ὁ μὲν αὐτοφόρητος ἐνήχετο χερσὶν ἐρέσσων,
πρηνὴς δ᾽ ἐν ῥοθίοισι καὶ οἴδμασιν ἴχνος ἐρείσας
ποσσὶν ὀπισθοτόνοισι ῥυηφενὲς ἔσχισεν ὕδωρ:
καί τις ὑποβρυχίων κατεδύσατο βένθος ἐναύλων
νειόθι μαστεύων νεπόδων ἑτερόχροον ἄγρην,
155 τυφλὴν νηχομένοισιν ἐπ᾽ ἰχθύσι χεῖρα τιταίνων,
καὶ βυθὸν αὖτις ἔλειπε, καὶ ἰχθύας ὤρεγε Βάκχῳ
ἰλύι φοινίσσοντας ἐχεκτεάνου ποταμοῖο :
συμπλέγδην δὲ πόδεσσιν ἀρηρότα ταρσὰ συνάπτων
κυφὸς ἐριδμαίνων Σατύρῳ Σειληνὸς ἀλήτης
160 κύμβαχος αὐτοκύλιστος ἐπεσκίρτησε ῥεέθρῳ
ὑψόθεν εἰς βαθὺ λαῖτμα, καὶ ἰλύος ἥπτετο χαίτη,
καὶ διδύμους στίλβοντι πόδας στηρίξατο πλῷ
ὄλβον ἐυψήφιδα μεταλλεύων ποταμοῖο:
καί τις ἐνὶ προχοῇσι μετάφρενον ἠέρι φαίνων
165 ἄβροχον ὦμον ἔλειπε δι᾽ ὕδατος, ἰσχία βάπτων
ἀγχιβαθὴς ἀτίνακτος: ὁ δ᾽ οὔατα γυμνὰ τιταίνων
χεύματι μαρμαρέῳ λασίους ἐδιήνατο μηρούς,
καὶ ῥόον αὐτοέλικτος ἐμάστιε σύμφυτος οὐρή.
[139] Meanwhile Dionysos, in the latitude of Lydia’s fields, grew into a youthful bloom as tall as he wished, shaking the Euian gear of Cybeleïd Rheia. To escape the midday lash of Helios moving on high, he cleansed his body in the stream of the Meionian River bubbling gently; Pactolos glad to gratify Lyaios murmured as he poured the goldsowing water upon the purple sands, and the gilded fish went swimming in wealthy soundings where the rich ore lay deep. Playful Satyrs lifted their heels in air, and tumbled plunging headover into the river; one selfpropelled swam with paddling hands prone on the waves, and imprinted a footstep on the swell, as he pushed with backstretching legs and cut the water rolling in riches; one dived deep down in to the underwater caves and hunted for speckled fishy prey down below, stretching a groping hand over the swimming fry – left the deeps again and offered to Bacchos the fish purpled with the slime of the opulent river. Seilenos the old vagabond, challenging a Satyr, entwined hands and feet together, and rolling himself into a ball stooped and dived head first into the stream, from the heights into the deeps, till his hair stuck in the slime; then he trod his two feet firmly into the glittering sand hunting for good nuggets of ore in the river. Another left shoulder unwetted and showed his back out of the water in the air as he stood in the deep stream over the hips, immovable. Another lifted the ears bare and plunged the shaggy thighs in the transparent flood, while the tail flogged the water in circles of its own.
καὶ θεὸς ὀρθώσας κεφαλήν καὶ στέρνα πετάσσας,
170 χεῖρας ἐρετμώσας, χρυσέην ἐχάραξε γαλήνην:
καὶ ῥόδον αὐτοτέλεστον ἀκύμονες ἔπτυον ὄχθαι,
καὶ κρίνον ἐβλάστησε, καὶ ᾐόνας ἔστεφον Ὧραι
Βάκχου λουομένοιο, καὶ ἀστράπτοντι ῥεέθρῳ
ἄπλοκα κυανέης ἐρυθαίνετο βόστρυχα χαίτης.
[169] The god lifting his head and spreading his chest, paddled his hand and cut the golden calm. The banks free of waves spirted up self-growing roses, the lily sprouted, the Seasons crowned the shores while Bacchos bathed, and the flowing locks of his dark hair were reddened in the sparkling stream.
175 καί ποτε θηρεύων ὑπὸ φωλάδα δάσκιον ὕλην
ἥλικος ἠιθέοιο ῥοδώπιδι θέλγετο μορφῇ.
ἤδη γὰρ Φρυγίης ὑπὸ δειράδα κοῦρος ἀθύρων
ἄμπελος ἠέξητο, νεοτρεφὲς ἔρνος Ἐρώτων:
οὐδέ οἱ ἁβρὸς ἴουλος ἐρευθομένοιο γενείου
180 ἄχνοα χιονέης ἐχαράσσετο κύκλα παρειῆς,
ἥβης χρύσεον ἄνθος: ὀπισθοπόροιο δὲ χαίτης
βότρυες εἱλικόεντες ἐπ᾽ ἀργυφέων θέον ὤμων
ἀπλεκέες, λιγυρῷ δὲ συναιθύσσοντες ἀήτῃ
ἄσθματι κουφίζοντο: παρελκομένων δὲ κομάων
185 ἀκροφανὴς ἀνέτελλε μέσος γυμνούμενος αὐχὴν
καὶ σέλας ἠκόντιζε λιπόσκιος, οἷά τε λάμπει
μεσσοφανὴς νέφος ὑγρὸν ἀνασχίζουσα Σελήνη:
καὶ στόματος ῥοδέοιο μελίπνοος ἔρρεε φωνή:
ἐκ μελέων δ᾽ ὅλον εἶαρ ἐφαίνετο: νισσομένου δὲ
190 ἐκ ποδὸς ἀργυφέοιο ῥόδων ἐρυθαίνετο λειμών:
εἰ δὲ βοογλήνων φαέων εὐφεγγέι κύκλῳ
ὀφθαλμοὺς ἐλέλιζεν, ὅλη σελάγιζε Σελήνη.
[175] Once while hunting in the shady lurking wood he was delighted by the rosy form of a young comrade. For Ampelos was a merry boy who had grown up already on the Phrygian hills, a new sprout of the Loves. No dainty bloom was yet on a reddening chin, no down yet marked the snowy circles of his cheeks, the golden flower of youth: curling clusters of hair ran loose behind over his silvery-glistering shoulders, and floated in the whispering wind that lifted them with its breath. As the hair blew aside the neck showed above rising bare in the middle. Unshadowed light flashed from him, like the shining moon when she pierces a damp cloud and shows within it. From his rosy lips escaped a voice breathing honey. Spring itself shone from his limbs; where his silvery foot stept the meadow blushed with roses; if he turned his eyes, the gleam of the bright eyeballs as soft a s a cow’s eye was like the light of the full moon.
τὸν μὲν ἔχων Διόνυσος ὁμέψιον, ἁβρὸν ἀθύρων,
εἴρετο θαμβαλέην προχέων ἐπὶ κάλλεϊ φωνὴν
195 ὡς βροτός, ἀθανάτην δὲ δολοπλόκος ἔκρυφε μορφήν:
‘Τίς σε πατὴρ ἐφύτευσε; τίς οὐρανίη τέκε γαστήρ;
τίς Χαρίτων σε λόχευσε; τίς ἤροσε καλός Ἀπόλλων;
εἰπέ, φίλος, μὴ κρύπτε τεὸν γένος: εἰ μὲν ἱκάνεις
ἄπτερος ἄλλος Ἔρως βελέων δίχα, νόσφι φαρέτρης,
200 τίς μακάρων σε φύτευσε παρευνάζων Ἀφροδίτῃ;
καὶ γὰρ ἐγὼ τρομέω σέο μητέρα Κύπριν ἐνίψαι,
μὴ γενέτην Ἥφαιστον ἢ Ἄρεα σεῖο καλέσσω.
εἰ δὲ σύ, τὸν καλέουσιν, ἀπ᾽ αἰθέρος ἤλυθες Ἑρμῆς,
δεῖξον ἐμοὶ πτερὰ κοῦφα καὶ ἔμπνοα ταρσὰ πεδίλων.
205 πῶς μεθέπεις ἄτμητον ἐπήορον αὐχένι χαίτην;
μὴ σύ μοι αὐτὸς ἵκανες ἄτερ κιθάρης, δίχα τόξου,
Φοῖβος ἀκερσικόμης κεχαλασμένα βόστρυχα σείων;
εἰ
Κρονίδης με φύτευσε, σὺ δὲ χθονίης ἀπὸ φύτλης
βουκεράων Σατύρων μινυώριον αἷμα κομίζεις,
210 ἶσον ἐμοὶ βασίλευε, θεῷ βροτός: οὐ γὰρ ἐλέγξει
οὐράνιον τεὸν εἶδος Ὀλύμπιον αἷμα Λυαίου.
ἀλλὰ τί κικλήσκω σε μινυνθαδίης ἀπὸ φύτλης;
γινώσκω τεὸν αἷμα, καὶ εἰ κρύπτειν μενεαίνεις:
ἠελίῳ σε λόχευσε παρευνηθεῖσα Σελήνη
215 Ναρκίσσῳ χαρίεντι πανείκελον: αἰθέριον γὰρ
εἴκελον εἶδος ἔχεις, κεραῆς ἴνδαλμα Σελήνης.’
[193] Dionysos took him as playmate in his dainty sports. Then in admiration of his beauty he spoke to him as a man, artfully concealing his divine nature, and asked him: “What father begat you? What immortal womb brought you forth? Which of the Graces gave you birth? What handsome Apollo made you? Tell me, my friend, do not hide your kin. If you come another Eros, unwinged, without arrows, without quiver, which of the Blessed slept with Aphrodite and bred you? But indeed I Tremble to name Cypris as your mother, for I would not call Hephaistos or Ares your father. Of if you are the one they call Hermes come from the sky, show me your light wings, and the lively soles of your shoes. How is it you wear the hair uncut falling along your neck? Can you be Phoibos himself come to me without harp, without bow, Phoibos shaking the locks of his unshorn hair unbound! If Cronides begat me, and you are from a mortal stock, if you have the shortliving blood of the horned Satyrs, be king at my side, a mortal with a god; for your looks will not disgrace the heavenly blood of Lyaios. But why do I call you one of the creatures of a day? I recognize your blood even if you wish to hide it; Selene slept with Helios and brought you to birth wholly like the gracious Narcissos; for you have a like heavenly beauty, the image of horned Selene.”
τοῖον ἔπος κατέλεξε: νέος δ᾽ ἠγάλλετο μύθῳ
κυδιόων, ὅτι κάλλος ὑπέρβαλεν ἥλικος ἥβης
εἴδεϊ φαιδροτέρῳ. καὶ ὀρειάδος ἔνδοθι λόχμης
220 εἰ μέλος ἔπλεκε κοῦρος, ἐτέρπετο Βάκχος ἀκούων:
εἰ νέος ἐκτὸς ἔμιμνεν, ἀμειδέας ἔσχε παρειάς:
εἰ Σάτυρος παρὰ δαῖτα φιλοσκάρθμοιο τραπέζης
τύμπανα χερσὶν ἔτυπτε περίκροτον ἦχον ἀράσσων,
καὶ νέος ἐκτὸς ἔην μεθέπων ἐλαφηβόλον ἄγρην,
225 κούρου μὴ παρεόντος ἀναίνετο δίκτυπον ἠχώ:
εἴ ποτε Πακτωλοῖο παρ᾽ ἀνθεμόεντι ῥεέθρῳ
δηθύνων ἀνέμιμνεν, ὅπως ἐπιδόρπιον εἴη
αὐτὸς ἑῷ βασιλῆι φέρων γλυκερώτερον ὕδωρ,
κούρου νόσφι μένοντος ἱμάσσετο Βάκχος ἀνίῃ.
[217] So he spoke, and the youth was delighted with his words, and proud that he surpassed the beauty of his young agemates by a more brilliant display. And in the mountain coppice if the boy made melody Bacchos listened with pleasure; no smile was on his face if the boy stayed away. If at his caperloving board a Satyr beat the drums with his hands and struck out his rattling tune, while they boy was away on stag-hunting quest, Bacchos refused the doubled sound so long as he was not there. If ever he lingered by the flowery stream of Pactolos, that he might bring himself sweeter water for the supper of his king, Bacchos was lashed with trouble so long as the boy stayed away.
230 εἰ θρασὺν αὐλὸν ἄειρε, Λιβυστίδος ὄργανον Ἠχοῦς,
οἰδαλέῃ φύσημα παρηίδι λεπτὸν ἰάλλων,
Μυγδόνος αὐλητῆρος ὀίετο Βάκχος ἀκούειν,
ὃν τέκε θεῖος Ὕαγνις, ὃς εἰς κακὸν ἤρισε Φοίβῳ
τρητὸν ἐπιθλίβων διδυμόθροον αὐλὸν Ἀθήνης:
235 εἰ δὲ σὺν ἡβητῆρι μιῆς ἔψαυσε τραπέζης,
κούρου φθεγγομένου πολυτερπέας εἶχεν ἀκουάς,
παυομένου δὲ νέοιο κατηφέας εἶχε παρειάς:
εἰ δὲ βαθυσκάρθμοιο πόθου πεφορημένος οἴστρῳ
ἄμπελος ὀρχηστῆρι ποδῶν ἐλελίζετο παλμῷ,
240 καὶ Σατύρῳ παίζοντι συνέπλεκε χεῖρα χορεύων,
δόχμιον ἐκ ταρσοῖο μετήλυδα ταρσὸν ἀμείβων,
Βάκχος ὀπιπεύων φθονερῇ δεδόνητο μερίμνῃ.
εἴ ποτε Σειληνοῖσιν ὁμίλεεν, εἴ τινι κούρῳ
ἥλικι θηρητῆρι συνέτρεχεν εἰς δρόμον ἄγρης,
245 ζηλήμων Διόνυσος ἐρήτυε, μή τις ὀιστῷ
βλήμενος ἰσοτύπῳ φρενοθελγέι λάτρις Ἐρώτων
παιδὸς ἐλαφρονόοιο παραπλάγξειε μενοινήν,
καὶ νέον ἱμερόεντα μεταστήσειε Λυαίου,
ἀρτιθαλὴς ἅτε κοῦρος ὁμόχρονον ἥλικα τέρπων.
[230] If he took up the bold hoboy, the instrument of Libyan Echo, and blew a light breath with swollen cheek, Bacchos thought he heard the Mygdonian flotist whom divine Hyagnis begat, who to his cost challenged Phoibos as he pressed the fingerholes on Athena’s double pipe. If he sat with the young man at one table, when the boy spoke he lent delighted ear, when he ceased, melancholy spread over his cheeks. If Ampelos, carried away by wild passion for high capers, twirled with dancing paces and joined hands with a sporting Satyr in the round, stepping across foot over foot, Bacchos looked on shaken with envious feeling. If he ever conversed with the Satyrs, if he joined with a yearsmate hunter to follow chase, Dionysos jealous held him back, lest another be struck like himself with a heartbewitching shaft, and now enslaved by love should seduce the fickle boy’s fancy and estrange the lovely youth from Lyaios, as a freshblooming boy might well charm a comrade of his own age.
250 ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε θύρσον ἄειρε καταντία λυσσάδος ἄρκτου
ἢ βριαρῷ νάρθηκα κατηκόντιζε λεαίνης,
εἰς δύσιν ὄμμα τίταινε ἐς ἠέρα λοξὰ δοκεύων,
μὴ Ζεφύρου πνεύσειε πάλιν θανατηφόρος αὔρη,
ὡς πάρος ἡβητῆρα κατέκτανε πικρὸς ἀήτης
255 δίσκον ἀκοντιστῆρα καταστρέψας Ὑακίνθου:
δείδιε, μὴ Κρονίδης ἐρασίπτερος ὄρνις Ἐρώτων
ἀπροΐδὴς ἀκίχητος ὑπὲρ Τμώλοιο φανείη
φειδομένοις ὀνύχεσσιν ἐς ἠέρα παῖδα κομίζων,
Τρώιον οἷά τε κοῦρον ἑῶν δρηστῆρα κυπέλλων:
260 ἔτρεμε καὶ δυσέρωτα κυβερνητῆρα θαλάσσης,
μὴ μετὰ Τανταλίδην χρυσέων ἐπιβήτορα δίφρων
εἰς δρόμον ἠερόφοιτον ἄγων πτερόεσσαν ἀπήνην
ἄμπελον ἁρπάξειεν ἐρωμανέων ἐνοσίχθων.
[250] When Bacchos lifted his thyrsus against a maddened bear, or cast his stout fennel javelin-like at a lioness, he looked as
ide watchfully toward the west; for fear the deathbringing breath of Zephyros might blow again, as it did once before when the bitter blast killed a young man while it turned the hurtling quoit against Hyacinthos. He feared Cronides might suddenly appear over Tmolos as a love-bird on amorous wing unapproachable, carrying off the boy with harmless talons into the air, as once he did the Trojan boy to serve his cups. He feared also the lovestricken ruler of the sea, that as once he took up Tantalides in his golden car, so now he might drive a winged wagon coursing through the air and ravish Ampelos – the Earthshaker mad with love!
καὶ γλυκὺν εἶχεν ὄνειρον ὀνειροτόκων ἐπὶ λέκτρων,
265 καὶ φιλίους ὀάριζε νέῳ ψευδήμονι μύθους
μιμηλῆς ὁρόων σκιοειδέα φάσματα μορφῆς.
εἰ δέ τί οἱ δύσμορφον ἐπήρατος εἶχεν ὀπωπή,
ἱμερόεν πέλε τοῦτο ποθοβλήτῳ Διονύσῳ,
φίλτερον ἡβητῆρος ὅλου χροός: εἰ δέ οἱ ἄκρη
270 συμφερτὴ κεχάλαστο δι᾽ ἰξύος ὄρθιος οὐρή,
καὶ μέλιτος γλυκεροῖο μελιχροτέρη πέλε Βάκχῳ:
καὶ πλόκαμοι ῥυπόωντες ἀκηδέστοιο καρήνου
αὐτοὶ μᾶλλον ἔτερπον ἐρωμανέοντος ὀπωπήν.
ἤματι μὲν κεχάρητο συνέμπορος: ἄχνυτο δ᾽ αἰεὶ
275 νυκτὸς ἐπερχομένης, ὅτε μηκέτι παιδὸς ἀκούων
οὔασι θελγομένοισιν ἐθήμονα δέχνυτο φωνήν,
Ῥείης ὀβριμόπαιδος ἐνὶ σπήεσσιν ἰαύων.
[264] He had a sweet dream on his dreambreeding bed, beheld the shadowy phantom of a counterfeit shape and whispered loving words to the mocking vision of the boy. If his passionate gaze saw any blemish, this appeared lovely to lovesick Dionysos, even more dear than the whole young body; if the end of the tail which grew on him hung slack by his loins, this was sweeter than honey to Bacchos. Matted hair on an unkempt head even so gave more pleasure to his impassioned gaze. By day he was charmed to be with him; when night came he was troubled to part from him, when he no longer heard the familiar voice enchanting his hears, as he slept in the grotto of Rheia mother of mighty sons.