Poem of the Week: Homeric Hymn to Apollo

In light of the Greek Sight Exam yesterday, here’s the beginning of the “Homeric Hymn to Apollo”, Michael Crudden’s translation:

I’ll remember and not forget Apollo who shoots from afar.
When he comes, a trembling seizes the gods in Zeus’ abode;
And, as he approaches near, they all leap up from their seats,
When he stretches his brilliant bow.  The only one to remain
By Zeus whom thunder delights is Leto: she loosens the string,
The quiver she shuts, and the bow with her hands from his strong shoulders takes,
Against his father’s pillar to hang from a peg of gold;
Him she escorts to a throne.  His father to him gives
A golden goblet of nektar, saluting his own dear son;
Then the other deities sit, and queenly Leto exults
At the fact that she gave birth to a bow-bearing, mighty son.
Hail to you, blessed Leto, since splendid children you bore,
Lord Apollo and archeress Artemis — her at Ortygia, him
On Delos’ rocky isle, where against a tall mountain you leaned,
The mound of Kynthos, hard by the palm at Inopos’ streams.


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