Orphic Tablets and Hymns

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Orphic Tablets

Gold tablet from Petelia (ca. 350 BCE)

You will find a spring on the left of the halls of Hades, and beside it a white cypress growing. Do not even go near this spring. And you will find another, from the Lake of Memory, flowing forth with cold water. In front of it are guards. You must say, “I am the child of Gê (Earth) and of starry Ouranos (Heaven); this you yourselves also know. I am dry with thirst and am perishing. Come, give me at once cold water flowing forth from the Lake of Memory.” And they themselves will give you to drink from the divine spring, and then thereafter you shall reign with the other heroes.

Gold tablet from Eleutherna (ca. 150 BCE)

A I am dry with thirst and am perishing.

B Come, drink, I pray, from the ever-flowing spring on the right, where the cypress is. Who are you, and whence?

A I am the son of Earth and starry Heaven.

Gold tablet from Thurii (ca. 350 BCE)

I come from the pure, O pure Queen of the earthly ones, Euclês, Eubouleus, and ye other immortal gods! I too claim to be of your blessed race, but Fate and other immortal gods conquered me, (and sent) the star-smiting thunder. And I flew out from the hard and deeply-grievous circle, and stepped on to the crown with my swift feet, and slipped into the bosom of the Mistress, the Queen of the Underworld. And I stepped out from the crown with my swift feet.

“Happy and blessed one, you shall be a god instead of a mortal.”

I have fallen as a kid into milk.

Gold tablet from Thurii (ca. 350 BCE)

I come pure from the pure, Queen of the Underworld, Euclês, Eubouleus and all other gods! For I too claim to be of your race. And I have paid the penalty for unjust deeds, whether Fate conquered me … with the thunderbolt and the lightning flash. Now a [female] suppliant I come to noble Persephone, that she may be kind and send me to the seats of the pure.

Gold tablet from Rome (ca. 200 BCE)

I come pure from the pure, Queen of the Underworld, Euclês, Eubouleus, noble child of Zeus! And I have this gift of Memory prized by men.

“Caecilia Secundina, come, made divine by the Law!”

Gold tablet from Thurii (ca. 350 BCE)

But whenever a soul leaves the light of the sun—enter on the right where one must if one has kept all (the laws) well and truly. Rejoice at the experience! This you have never before experienced: you have become a god instead of a man. You have fallen as a kid into milk. Hail, hail, as you travel on the right, through the holy meadow and groves of Persephone!

Gold tablet from Thurii (ca. 350 BCE)

To Earth, first-born Mother, Cybelian Korê said: … Of Demeter … All-seeing Zeus.

O Sun, Fire, you went through all towns, when you appeared with the Victories and Fortunes and all-wise Fate, where you increase the brightness of the festival with your lordship, O glorious deity! By you are all things subdued, all things overpowered, all things smitten! The decrees of Fate must everywhere be endured. O Fire, lead me to the Mother, if the fast can endure, to fast for seven nights and days! For there was a seven-day fast, O Olympian Zeus and all-seeing Sun.

Orphic Hymns

“To Protogonus, or the First-born”

The fumigation from myrrh.

O Mighty first-begotten, hear my pray’r,

Two-fold, egg-born, and wand’ring thro’ the air,

Bull-roarer, glorying in thy golden wings,

From whom the race of Gods and mortals springs.

Ericapaeus, celebrated pow’r,

Ineffable, occult, all shining flow’r.

From eyes obscure thou wip’st the gloom of night,

All-spreading splendour, pure and holy light

Hence Phanes call’d, the glory of the sky,

On waving pinions thro’ the world you fly.

Priapus, dark-ey’d splendour, thee I sing,

Genial, all-prudent, ever-blessed king,

With joyful aspect on our rights divine

And holy sacrifice propitious shine.

“To Rhea”

The fumigation from aromatics.

Daughter of great Protogonus, divine,

Illustrious Rhea, to my pray’r incline,

Who driv’st thy holy car with speed along,

Drawn by fierce lions, terrible and strong.

Mother of Jove, whose mighty arm can wield

Th’ avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield.

Drum-beating, frantic, of a splendid mien,

Brass-sounding, honor’d, Saturn’s blessed queen.

Thou joy’st in mountains and tumultuous fight,

And mankind’s horrid howlings, thee delight.

War’s parent, mighty, of majestic frame,

Deceitful saviour, liberating dame.

Mother of Gods and men, from whom the earth

And lofty heav’ns derive their glorious birth;

Th’ aetherial gales, the deeply spreading sea

Goddess aerial form’d, proceed from thee.

Come, pleas’d with wand’rings, blessed and divine,

With peace attended on our labours shine;

Bring rich abundance, and wherever found

Drive dire disease, to earth’s remotest bound.

“To Thundering Jove”

The fumigation from storax.

O Father Jove, who shak’st with fiery light

The world deep-sounding from thy lofty height:

From thee, proceeds th’ aetherial lightning’s blaze,

Flashing around intolerable rays.

Thy sacred thunders shake the blest abodes,

The shining regions of th’ immortal Gods:

Thy pow’r divine, the flaming lightning shrouds,

With dark investiture, in fluid clouds.

’Tis thine to brandish thunders strong and dire,

To scatter storms, and dreadful darts of fire;

With roaring flames involving all around,

And bolts of thunder of tremendous sound.

Thy rapid dart can raise the hair upright,

And shake the heart of man with wild afright.

Sudden, unconquer’d, holy, thund’ring God,

With noise unbounded, flying all abroad;

With all-devouring force, entire and strong,

Horrid, untam’d, thou roll’st the flames along.

Rapid, aetherial bolt, descending fire,

The earth all-parent, trembles at thy ire;

The sea all-shining; and each beast that hears

The sound terrific, with dread horror fears:

When Nature’s face is bright with flashing fire,

And in the heavens resound thy thunders dire.

Thy thunders white, the azure garments tear,

And burst the veil of all surrounding air.

O Jove, all-blessed, may thy wrath severe,

Hurl’d in the bosom of the deep appear,

And on the tops of mountains be reveal’d,

For thy strong arm is not from us conceal’d.

Propitious to these sacred rites incline,

And crown my wishes with a life divine:

Add royal health, and gentle peace beside,

With equal reason, for my constant guide.

“To Proserpine”

Daughter of Jove, almighty and divine,

Come, blessed queen, and to these rites incline:

Only-begotten, Pluto’s honor’d wife,

O venerable Goddess, source of life:

’Tis thine in earth’s profundities to dwell,

Fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell:

Jove’s holy offspring, of a beauteous mien,

Fatal, with lovely locks, infernal queen:

Source of the furies, whose blest frame proceeds

From Jove’s ineffable and secret seeds:

Mother of Bacchus, Sonorous, divine,

And many-form’d, the parent of the vine:

The dancing Hours attend thee, essence bright,

All-ruling virgin, bearing heav’nly light:

Illustrious, horned, of a bounteous mind,

Alone desir’d by those of mortal kind.

O, vernal queen, whom grassy plains delight,

Sweet to the smell, and pleasing to the sight:

Whose holy form in budding fruits we view,

Earth’s vig’rous offspring of a various hue:

Espous’d in Autumn: life and death alone

To wretched mortals from thy power is known:

For thine the task according to thy will,

Life to produce, and all that lives to kill.

Hear, blessed Goddess, send a rich increase

Of various fruits from earth, with lovely Peace;

Send Health with gentle hand, and crown my life

With blest abundance, free from noisy strife;

Last in extreme old age the prey of Death,

Dismiss we willing to the realms beneath,

To thy fair palace, and the blissful plains

Where happy spirits dwell, and Pluto reigns.

“To Bacchus”

The fumigation from storax.

Bacchus I call, loud-sounding and divine,

Fanatic God, a two-fold shape is thine:

Thy various names and attributes I sing,

O, first-born, thrice-begotten, Bacchic king:

Rural, ineffable, two-form’d, obscure,

Two-horn’d, with ivy crown’d, euion, pure.

Bull-fac’d, and martial, bearer of the vine,

Endu’d with counsel prudent and divine:

Triennial, whom the leaves of vines adorn,

Of Jove and Proserpine, occultly born.

Immortal daemon, hear my suppliant voice,

Give me in blameless plenty to rejoice;

And listen gracious to my mystic pray’r,

Surrounded with thy choir of nurses fair.

“To the Curetes”

A hymn.

Leaping Curetes, who with dancing feet

And circling measures, armed footsteps beat:

Whose bosom’s mad, fanatic transports fire,

Who move in rythm to the founding lyre:

Who traces deaf when lightly leaping tread,

Arm bearers, strong defenders, rulers dread:

Propitious omens, guards of Proserpine,

Preserving rites, mysterious and divine

Come, and benevolent my words attend,

(In herds rejoicing), and my life defend.

“To the Curetes”

The fumigation from frankincense.

Brass-beating Salians, ministers of Mars,

Who guard his arms the instruments of wars

Whose blessed frames, heav’n, earth, and sea compose,

And from whose breath all animals arose:

Who dwell in Samothracia’s sacred ground,

Defending mortals thro’ the sea profound.

Deathless Curetes, by your pow’r alone,

Initial rites to men at first were shewn:

Who shake old Ocean thund’ring to the sky,

And stubborn oaks with branches waving high.

’Tis your’s in glittering arms the earth to beat,

With lightly-leaping, rapid, sounding feet;

Then every beast the noise terrific flies,

And the loud tumult wanders thro’ the skies:

The dust your feet excites with matchless force,

Flies to the clouds amidst their whirling course;

And ev’ry flower of variegated hue,

Grows in the dancing motion form’d by you.

Immortal daemons, to your pow’rs consign’d

The talk to nourish, and destroy mankind.

When rushing furious with loud tumult dire,

O’erwhelm’d, they perish in your dreadful ire;

And live replenish’d with the balmy air,

The food of life, committed to your care.

When shook by you, the seas, with wild uproar,

Wide-spreading, and profoundly whirling, roar:

The concave heav’ns, with Echo’s voice resound,

When leaves with ruffling noise bestrew the ground.

Curetes, Corybantes, ruling kings,

Whose praise the land of Samothracia sings:

From Jove descended; whose immortal breath

Sustains the soul, and wafts her back from death;

Aerial-form’d, much-fam’d, in heav’n ye shine

Two-fold, in heav’n all-lucid and divine:

Blowing, serene, from whom abundance springs,

Nurses of seasons, fruit-producing kings.

“To the Titans”

The fumigation from frankincense.

O Mighty Titans, who from heav’n and earth

Derive your noble and illustrious birth,

Our fathers fires, in Tartarus profound

Who dwell, deep merg’d beneath the solid ground:

Fountains and principles, from whom began

Th’ afflicted, miserable, race of man:

Who not alone in earth’s retreats abide,

But in the ocean and the air reside;

Since ev’ry species from your nature flows,

Which all prolific, nothing barren knows:

Avert your rage, if from th’ infernal seats

One of your tribe should visit our retreats.

__________

Reprinted from Ancilla to the Pre-Socratic Philosophers, by Kathleen Freeman. Blackwell Publishers, 1948. Used by permission of John Wiley & Sons.