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| Hendrik Goltzius Proserpine ca. 1588-90 chiaroscuro woodcut Princeton University Art Museum |
The mother of us all,
the oldest of all,
hard,
splendid as rock
Whatever there is that is of the land
it is she
who nourishes it,
it is the Earth
that I sing
Whoever you are,
howsoever you come
across her sacred ground
you of the sea,
you that fly,
it is she
who nourishes you
she,
out of her treasures
Beautiful children
beautiful harvests
are achieved from you
The giving of life itself,
the taking of it back
to or from
any man
are yours
The happy man is simply
the man you favor
the man who has your favor
and that man
has everything
His soil thickens,
it becomes heavy with life,
his cattle grow fat in their fields,
his house fills up with things
These are the men who govern a city with good laws
and the women of their city,
the women are beautiful
fortune,
wealth,
it all follows
Their sons glory
in the ecstasy of youth
Their daughters play,
they dance in the flowers
they skip
in and out
on the grass
over soft flowers
It is you
the goddess
it is you who honored them
Now,
mother of gods,
bride of the sky
in stars
farewell:
but if you liked what I sang here
give me this life too
then,
in my other poems
I will remember you
– Hymn to the Earth translated by Charles Boer in The Homeric Hymns (Chicago : Swallow Press, 1970)
(There are thirty-three Homeric Hymns, currently thought to date from about the eighth to the sixth centuries B.C. The ancients believed (or claimed to believe) that Homer was their author, but living people looking backwards from the pinnacle of the present day do not share that belief.)