For some say, at Dracanum; and some, on windy Icarus;
and some, in Naxos, O Heaven-born, Insewn; and others by the
deep-eddying river Alpheus that pregnant Semele bare you to Zeus the
thunder-lover. And others yet, lord, say you were born in Thebes; but
all these lie. The Father of men and gods gave you birth remote from men
and secretly from white-armed Hera. There is a certain Nysa, a mountain
most high and richly grown with woods, far off in Phoenice, near the
streams of Aegyptus.
'and men will lay up for her many offerings in
her shrines. And as these things are three, so shall mortals ever
sacrifice perfect hecatombs to you at your feasts each three years.'
The Son of Cronos spoke and nodded with his dark brows. And
the divine locks of the king flowed forward from his immortal head, and
he made great Olympus reel. So spake wise Zeus and ordained it with a
nod.
Be favourable, O Insewn, Inspirer of frenzied women!
we singers sing of you as we begin and as we end a strain, and none
forgetting you may call holy song to mind. And so, farewell, Dionysus,
Insewn, with your mother Semele whom men call Thyone.
Back to: The Homeric Hymns