The Homeric Hymn to Apollo is the longest and most complex of the thirty-three Hymns, and one of the masterpieces of archaic Greek poetry. It tells two stories fused into one: the birth of Apollo on the tiny island of Delos, where his mother Leto wandered rejected by every other land; and Apollo's journey across Greece to found his oracle at Delphi, where he slew the she-dragon and claimed his priesthood from Cretan sailors he had carried across the sea in the form of a dolphin.

Scholars have long debated whether this is one poem or two (a "Delian" hymn and a "Pythian" hymn) joined together. The seam is visible at line 179, where the poet shifts from the Delian festival to Apollo's search for an oracle-seat. But the hymn reads as a single arc: from a god's birth as a helpless infant on a barren island to his establishment as the lord of prophecy at the navel of the world. The famous passage at lines 165–173, where the poet asks the Delian maidens to say who is the sweetest singer — "a blind man who dwells on rocky Chios" — is the closest thing in Greek literature to Homer identifying himself.

This is the first freely available English translation produced directly from the Ancient Greek. The source text is from the Perseus Digital Library's canonical-greekLit repository (Hugh G. Evelyn-White's 1914 Loeb edition of the Greek text, CC BY-SA 3.0). The translation follows the gospel register: plain, direct, warm.

Part I — The Delian Hymn

I will remember and not forget Apollo the Far-Striker,
whom the gods tremble at as he walks through the house of Zeus.
They spring up, all of them, from their seats
as he draws near, when he strings his shining bow.
But Leto alone stays beside Zeus who delights in thunder.
She unstrings the bow and closes the quiver,
and taking them from his strong shoulders with her hands,
she hangs the bow on a pillar of his father's house
from a golden peg, and leads him to his seat.
Then his father gives him nectar in a golden cup,
welcoming his dear son. And then the other gods
sit down in their places, and Lady Leto rejoices
that she bore a son who carries the bow and is mighty.

Hail, blessed Leto, for you bore splendid children —
Lord Apollo and Artemis who pours forth arrows —
her in Ortygia, him on rocky Delos,
leaning against the great mountain and the Cynthian hill,
close to a palm tree, by the streams of Inopos.

How shall I hymn you, who are worthy of every hymn?
For everywhere, Phoebus, the pastures of song are laid out for you,
both over the calf-nurturing mainland and across the islands.
All the lookout peaks please you, and the high headlands
of lofty mountains, and rivers flowing seaward,
and beaches leaning toward the water, and harbors of the sea.

Shall I sing how Leto first bore you, a joy to mortals,
leaning against Mount Cynthus on that rocky island,
on sea-girt Delos? On either side the dark wave
washed ashore, driven by the shrill-blowing winds,
and from there, springing forth, you rule over all who are mortal.

All whom Crete holds within, and the people of Athens,
and the island of Aegina, and Euboea famed for ships,
Aegae and Peiresiae and coastal Pepárethos,
Thracian Athos and the high peaks of Pelion,
Thracian Samos and the shadowy mountains of Ida,
Skyros and Phocaea and the steep mountain of Autocane,
well-built Imbros and misty Lemnos,
holy Lesbos, seat of Macar son of Aeolus,
and Chios, richest of the islands in the sea,
craggy Mimas and the high peaks of Corycus,
shining Claros and the steep mountain of Aesagea,
well-watered Samos and the steep heights of Mycale,
Miletus and Cos, city of the Meropes,
steep Cnidos and windswept Carpáthos,
Naxos and Paros and rocky Rhenaea —

so far in her labor Leto came, carrying the Far-Striker,
seeking whether any land would make a home for her son.
But they trembled greatly and were afraid, and none dared
receive Phoebus, though they were rich enough —
until Lady Leto set foot on Delos
and, questioning, spoke winged words:

"Delos, would you be willing to be the seat of my son,
Phoebus Apollo, and build him a rich temple here?
No one else will ever touch you or neglect you,
and I do not think you will be rich in cattle or sheep,
or bear vintage, or grow countless plants.
But if you hold the temple of Apollo the Far-Worker,
all peoples will bring their hecatombs here,
gathering together, and the endless savor of fat
will rise always from your altar, and you will feed those who hold you
from the hands of strangers, since you have no richness beneath your soil."

So she spoke. And Delos rejoiced, and answered:

"Leto, most glorious daughter of great Coeus,
gladly would I receive the birth of the Far-Striking lord,
for truly I am sadly dishonored among men,
and in this way I would become greatly honored.
But I tremble at this word, Leto, and I will not hide it from you:
they say Apollo will be exceedingly reckless,
and that he will be a great lord over the immortals
and mortal men on the grain-giving earth.
Therefore I terribly fear in my heart
that when he first sees the light of the sun,
he will scorn my island — for I am a rocky place —
and overturn me with his feet and thrust me into the depths of the sea.
Then the great wave will wash over my head forever,
and he will go to another land that pleases him,
to build his temple and his groves of trees.
The octopuses will make their dens in me
and the black seals their careless homes, for want of people.
But if you would dare, goddess, to swear me a great oath —
that here he will first build his beautiful temple,
to be an oracle for humankind, and then afterwards
build temples and groves among all peoples,
since he will be a god of many names."

So she spoke. And Leto swore the great oath of the gods:

"Let Earth now witness, and wide Heaven above,
and the down-flowing water of the Styx, the greatest
and most terrible oath among the blessed gods:
Phoebus shall have his fragrant altar here
and his precinct forever, and he shall honor you above all."

When she had sworn and completed the oath,
Delos was overjoyed at the birth of the Far-Striking lord.
And Leto for nine days and nine nights
was pierced with unexpected labor pains.
All the greatest goddesses were within —
Dione and Rhea and Ichnaea and Themis
and loud-groaning Amphitrite and all the other immortals,
except white-armed Hera,
for she sat in the halls of cloud-gathering Zeus.
Only Eileithyia, goddess of birth, had not heard,
for she sat on the peak of Olympus beneath golden clouds,
held back by the cunning of white-armed Hera,
out of jealousy, since fair-haired Leto
was about to bear a son faultless and mighty.

The goddesses sent Iris from the well-built island
to bring Eileithyia, promising a great necklace
strung with golden threads, nine cubits long.
They told her to call apart from white-armed Hera,
lest Hera turn her back with words.
When wind-swift Iris heard this,
she ran, and quickly covered all the distance between.
And when she reached the gods' seat, steep Olympus,
at once she called Eileithyia from the hall
and spoke winged words to her,
telling everything as the Olympian goddesses commanded.
She persuaded the heart within her breast,
and they went on feet like timid doves.

When Eileithyia, goddess of birth, set foot on Delos,
labor seized Leto, and she longed to give birth.
She threw her arms around the palm tree
and pressed her knees into the soft meadow.
The earth smiled beneath her.
The child sprang forth into the light, and all the goddesses cried out.

There, holy Phoebus, the goddesses washed you with clear water,
purely and cleanly, and swaddled you in white cloth,
fine and newly woven, and fastened a golden band around you.
His mother did not nurse Apollo of the golden sword —
Themis with immortal hands first offered him
nectar and lovely ambrosia. And Leto rejoiced
that she had borne a son who carries the bow and is mighty.

But when you had eaten the immortal food, Phoebus,
the golden bands could not hold you as you struggled,
nor could any bonds contain you. All fastenings were loosed.
And at once Phoebus Apollo spoke among the immortals:

"Let the dear lyre be mine, and the curved bow,
and I will declare to mortals the unerring will of Zeus."

So speaking, long-haired Phoebus strode forth,
the Far-Striker, over the wide-pathed earth.
All the goddesses were amazed.
And all of Delos bloomed with gold,
as a mountain ridge blossoms with the flowers of the forest.

And you yourself, lord of the silver bow, Far-Striking Apollo,
sometimes walked on craggy Cynthus,
and sometimes ranged among the islands and the peoples.
Many are your temples and your groves of trees.
All the lookout peaks are dear to you, the high headlands
of lofty mountains, and rivers flowing seaward.
But it is in Delos, Phoebus, that your heart most delights,
where the long-robed Ionians gather together
with their children and their honored wives.
They remember you and please you with boxing and dancing and song
whenever they hold their contest.
Whoever came upon the Ionians gathered there
would say they were immortal and ageless forever,
for he would see the grace of all and his heart would be glad,
looking upon the men and the fair-girdled women,
their swift ships and their many possessions.

And beyond these, this great wonder whose glory will never die:
the Delian maidens, handmaids of the Far-Striker.
After they have first hymned Apollo,
and then Leto and Artemis who pours forth arrows,
they sing of the men and women of old
and enchant the tribes of humankind.
They know how to imitate the voices and the chattering speech
of all peoples. Each man would say
he himself was speaking, so perfectly fitted is their beautiful song.

But come now, may Apollo be gracious, and Artemis with him.
And farewell to you all. But remember me hereafter,
whenever some mortal stranger, a man who has suffered much,
comes here and asks:
"O maidens, which singer is sweetest to you
of those who come here, and in whom do you most delight?"
Then answer, all of you, with one voice:
"A blind man, who dwells on rocky Chios —
all his songs shall be the best hereafter."
And we will carry your fame as far across the earth
as we wander through the well-built cities of men.
And they will trust it, because it is true.
But I will never cease to hymn Far-Striking Apollo
of the silver bow, whom fair-haired Leto bore.

Part II — The Pythian Hymn

O Lord, you hold Lycia and lovely Maeonia
and Miletus, that charming city by the sea,
and you yourself rule greatly over sea-girt Delos.

The son of glorious Leto goes playing his hollow lyre
toward rocky Pytho, wearing immortal fragrant garments.
His lyre gives a lovely sound beneath the golden plectrum.
From there, swift as thought, he goes from earth to Olympus,
to the house of Zeus, to the gathering of the gods.
At once the hearts of the immortals turn to the lyre and song.

The Muses all together, answering with beautiful voice,
hymn the immortal gifts of the gods and the sufferings
of mortals — all that they endure at the hands of the deathless gods,
living heedlessly and helplessly, unable
to find a cure for death or a defense against old age.

The fair-haired Graces and the cheerful Seasons,
Harmony and Hebe and Aphrodite daughter of Zeus,
dance holding each other by the wrist.
Among them dances one neither ugly nor small,
but very tall and wondrous to see —
Artemis who pours forth arrows, raised with Apollo.
And among them Ares and keen-eyed Hermes play.
Phoebus Apollo plays his lyre among them,
stepping high and beautifully. A radiance shines around him,
the flash of his feet and his finely woven tunic.
Golden-haired Leto and wise Zeus
take delight, watching with full hearts
their dear son playing among the immortal gods.

How shall I hymn you, who are worthy of every hymn?
Shall I sing of you among suitors and in love —
how you went courting the daughter of Azas,
with godlike Ischys, son of Elatus of the fine horses?
Or with Phorbas of the race of Triops? Or with Ereutheus?
Or with Leucippus and the wife of Leucippus —
you on foot, he with horses? He was no less than Triops.
Or shall I sing how you first sought an oracle-seat for mortals,
and went over the earth, Far-Striking Apollo?

From Olympus you came down first to Pieria.
You passed sandy Lectus and the Enienians,
and through the Perrhaebi. Quickly you came to Iolcus,
and stepped onto Cenaeum of Euboea, famed for ships.
You stood on the Lelantine plain, but it did not please your heart
to build a temple and groves of trees.

From there, crossing the Euripus, Far-Striking Apollo,
you went up the sacred green mountain, and quickly came down
to Mycalessus and to grassy Teumessus.
You reached Thebes, a seat clothed in forest —
for no mortal yet dwelt in sacred Thebes,
nor were there yet any paths or roads
across Thebes's wheat-bearing plain. The forest held it all.

From there you went further, Far-Striking Apollo,
and reached Onchestus, Poseidon's splendid grove,
where the newly broken colt draws breath, straining
to pull the fine chariot. The skilled driver leaps
from the chariot to the ground and walks the road,
and the horses rattle the empty car, free of their master.
If the chariot crashes in the wooded grove,
they tend the horses and lean the chariot aside and leave it,
for such was the rite from the first. They pray to the lord,
and the fate of the god guards the chariot.

From there you went further, Far-Striking Apollo,
and came upon the beautiful-flowing Cephisus,
which pours its fair water from Lilaea.
Crossing it, Far-Worker, and many-towered Ocalea,
you came to grassy Haliartus.

You went to Telphusa, and the peaceful place pleased you
for building a temple and groves of trees.
You stood very close to her and spoke:

"Telphusa, here I intend to build a beautiful temple,
an oracle for all peoples, who will always
bring me perfect hecatombs —
both those who hold the rich Peloponnese
and those of Europe and the sea-girt islands,
coming for counsel. To all of them
I would give unerring wisdom in my rich temple."

So speaking, Phoebus Apollo laid the foundations,
broad and very long, without a break. But Telphusa,
seeing it, grew angry in her heart and spoke:

"Phoebus, Lord Far-Worker, I will put a word in your mind.
Since you intend to build here a beautiful temple,
an oracle for peoples who will always
bring you perfect hecatombs —
I will speak, and you lay it in your heart:
the thunder of swift horses will trouble you always,
and mules being watered at my sacred springs.
There people would rather gaze on fine chariots
and the clatter of swift horses
than on a great temple and the treasures within it.
But if you would hear me — you are stronger and mightier than I,
lord, and your power is greatest —
build at Crisa, beneath the fold of Parnassus.
There no fine chariots will rattle,
and no clatter of swift horses around your well-built altar,
but the famous tribes of men will bring their gifts
to you as Ie-Paian, and you, rejoicing,
will receive the beautiful offerings of the peoples round about."

So speaking, she turned the Far-Striker's mind,
so that Telphusa herself would have glory on the earth, not Apollo.

From there you went further, Far-Striking Apollo,
and came to the city of the violent Phlegyans,
who dwelt on the earth caring nothing for Zeus,
in a fair valley near the lake of Cephisus.
From there you rushed swiftly up the ridge
and came to Crisa beneath snowy Parnassus,
a shoulder facing westward. Above it
a rock overhangs, and a hollow valley runs below it,
rough and wild. There the lord Phoebus Apollo
resolved to build his temple, and spoke:

"Here I intend to build a beautiful temple,
an oracle for all peoples, who will always
bring me perfect hecatombs —
both those who hold the rich Peloponnese
and those of Europe and the sea-girt islands,
coming for counsel. To all of them
I would give unerring wisdom in my rich temple."

So speaking, Phoebus Apollo laid the foundations,
broad and very long, without a break. And upon them
Trophonius and Agamedes, sons of Erginus,
dear to the immortal gods, set a threshold of stone.
Around the temple the countless tribes of humankind
built with polished stone, to be a song forever.

Nearby was a beautiful-flowing spring, where the lord
son of Zeus killed the she-dragon with his mighty bow —
a bloated, enormous creature, a savage monster,
who had done many evils to people on the earth,
many to the people themselves
and many to their thin-legged flocks, for she was a bloody scourge.

She it was who once received and nursed,
from golden-throned Hera, the dread and terrible Typhaon,
a curse to mortals. For Hera bore him in anger at Father Zeus,
when the Son of Cronos begot glorious Athena
from his own head. Lady Hera was enraged
and spoke among the assembled immortals:

"Hear me, all gods and all goddesses —
how cloud-gathering Zeus has begun to dishonor me,
he who first made me his knowing wife.
Now without me he has begotten bright-eyed Athena,
who is preeminent among all the blessed immortals,
while my own son Hephaestus was born weak-legged,
a cripple among the gods — whom I myself bore!
I seized him and cast him into the wide sea.
But silver-footed Thetis, daughter of Nereus,
received him and cared for him among her sisters.
Would she had done some other kindness to the blessed gods!
Stubborn schemer — what will you contrive now?
How did you dare beget bright-eyed Athena alone?
Could I not have borne her? I, who am called your wife
among the immortals who hold wide heaven?
Take care now that I do not plot evil against you.
And now I will contrive that a son be born to me
who will be preeminent among the immortal gods —
without shaming your sacred bed or mine.
I will not come to your bed, but far from you
I will remain among the immortal gods."

So speaking, she went apart from the gods, raging in her heart.
At once ox-eyed Lady Hera prayed
and struck the earth with the flat of her hand and spoke:

"Hear me now, Earth and wide Heaven above,
and you Titan gods who dwell beneath the earth
around great Tartarus, from whom come gods and mortals —
hear me, all of you, and give me a child apart from Zeus,
in no way weaker than him in strength,
but mightier, as far as Zeus surpasses Cronos."

So she spoke and struck the earth with her heavy hand.
The life-bearing Earth was shaken. Hera, seeing it,
rejoiced in her heart, for she thought it would be fulfilled.
From that time on, for a full year's turning,
she never came to the bed of wise Zeus,
nor sat on her carved throne as before,
counseling at his side.
Ox-eyed Lady Hera stayed in her temples, rich in prayers,
and took pleasure in her rites.

But when the months and days were completed
and the year came round and the seasons returned,
she bore a thing like neither gods nor mortals —
dread and terrible Typhaon, a curse to humankind.
At once ox-eyed Lady Hera took him
and gave him, evil to evil, to the she-dragon, who received him.
He wrought many evils on the famous tribes of humanity.
Whoever crossed her path met their destined day —
until the lord Far-Striking Apollo
let fly a mighty arrow. She lay writhing,
torn by terrible pains, gasping and rolling on the ground.
An unspeakable cry arose.
She twisted through the forest, this way and that,
and breathed out her bloody life.
And Phoebus Apollo boasted over her:

"Rot here now, on the earth that feeds mortals.
No longer will you be a living plague
to those who eat the fruit of the rich earth
and bring their perfect offerings here.
Neither Typhoeus nor ill-named Chimaera
will save you from wretched death.
Here the dark earth and the shining Sun shall rot you."

So he spoke in triumph. And darkness covered her eyes.
The sacred strength of the Sun rotted her there —
and from this the place is called Pytho,
and they call the lord Pythian,
because there the force of the piercing Sun
rotted the great creature.

Then Phoebus Apollo understood in his mind
that the fair-flowing spring had deceived him.
He went in anger against Telphusa, and quickly came there.
He stood close to her and spoke:

"Telphusa, you were not destined to deceive my mind
and keep this lovely place, pouring your fair-flowing water.
Here too my glory will be — not yours alone."

He spoke, and the lord Far-Striking Apollo
pushed a cliff down upon her with a fall of rocks
and buried her streams.
He built an altar in a grove of trees
very close to the fair-flowing spring.
There all peoples pray to the lord
under the name Telphusian,
because he shamed the streams of sacred Telphusa.

Then Phoebus Apollo considered in his heart
what mortals to bring as attendants
to serve him in rocky Pytho.
While he pondered, he noticed on the wine-dark sea
a swift ship, and in it many fine men —
Cretans, from Minoan Knossos — who perform
sacrifices for the lord and declare the judgments
of Phoebus Apollo of the golden sword,
whatever he speaks in prophecy from the laurels beneath Parnassus.

They were sailing in their black ship toward sandy Pylos
and the people of Pylos, on trade.
But Phoebus Apollo met them.

He leapt upon the swift ship in the sea
in the form of a dolphin, and lay there,
a great and terrible creature.
None of them could understand in their hearts what it was.
They tried to throw the dolphin off, but it
shook the black ship in every direction and rattled the timbers.
They sat in silence on the ship, terrified.
They did not loose the ropes of the hollow black ship,
nor lower the sail of the dark-prowed vessel,
but just as they had first set it with ox-hide ropes,
so they sailed. A brisk south wind drove the swift ship from behind.

First they passed Malea,
and along the sea-crowned Laconian coast they came
to Taenarum, place of the sun that gladdens mortals,
where the deep-woolled flocks of Lord Helios graze always,
and the land is delightful.
There they wanted to beach the ship and go ashore
to study the great wonder, to see with their own eyes
whether the creature would stay on the deck of the hollow ship
or leap back into the fish-swarming sea.
But the well-made ship would not obey the rudder.
It held its course along the rich Peloponnese,
and the lord Far-Striking Apollo guided it easily with his breath.
Pressing on, the ship reached Arena and lovely Argyphea,
Thryon, the ford of Alpheus, well-built Aepy,
sandy Pylos and the people of Pylos.
Past Crounoi and Chalcis and past Dyme it went,
past shining Elis, where the Epeans rule.
When it rounded Pherae, exulting in the wind of Zeus,
the steep mountain of Ithaca appeared beneath the clouds,
and Doulichion and Same and wooded Zacynthus.

When it had passed the whole Peloponnese,
the boundless gulf of Crisa came in view,
which runs across the rich Peloponnese.
Then came the great west wind, clear, by Zeus's will,
blowing hard from the sky, so that the ship
might quickly finish its course through the salt water.
They sailed back toward the dawn and the sun.
The lord Apollo, son of Zeus, led them on.
They reached bright Crisa, full of vines,
and entered the harbor. The seafaring ship ran aground on the sand.

There the lord Far-Striking Apollo leapt from the ship
like a star at midday. Sparks flew from him
in multitudes, and the radiance reached to heaven.
He went into the sanctuary through the precious tripods
and kindled a flame there, showing forth his shafts.
The radiance filled all of Crisa.
The wives and fair-girdled daughters of the Crisaeans cried out
at the rush of Phoebus, for he cast great fear into each of them.

From there, swift as thought, he flew back to the ship
in the likeness of a man, vigorous and strong,
in the prime of youth, his hair mantling his broad shoulders.
He called to them and spoke winged words:

"Strangers, who are you? From where do you sail the watery paths?
Is it for trade, or do you wander without purpose
over the sea, like pirates who roam
staking their lives and bringing ruin to strangers?
Why do you sit so stricken, and do not go ashore,
and do not stow the gear of your black ship?
This is the custom of bread-earning men —
when they come ashore from the sea in their black ship,
weary with labor, at once the longing
for sweet food takes hold of their hearts."

So he spoke and put courage in their breasts.
The captain of the Cretans answered him:

"Stranger — for you do not look like any mortal,
neither in body nor in stature, but like the immortal gods —
all hail and great welcome! May the gods grant you blessings.
But tell me truly, that I may know:
what people live here? What land is this? What mortals are born here?
For we were sailing with other intentions over the great deep
toward Pylos, from Crete, where we claim our birth.
But now we have come here in our ship against our will,
longing for home, by another road, another way.
Some god has brought us here unwilling."

Apollo the Far-Worker answered them:

"Strangers, you who once lived around tree-rich Knossos —
now you will never return again
to your lovely city, each to his fine house
and his dear wife. But here you will keep my rich temple,
honored by many peoples.
I am the son of Zeus. I declare myself Apollo.
I brought you here over the great gulf of the sea,
intending you no harm. But here you will keep my rich temple,
greatly honored among all peoples,
and you will know the counsels of the immortals,
by whose will you shall be honored forever, all your days.

Come now, do as I say, and quickly.
First lower the sails and loosen the ox-hide ropes.
Then haul the swift ship up onto the shore
and take out your goods and the gear of the well-balanced ship,
and build an altar on the beach of the sea.
Light a fire upon it and offer white barley,
and pray, standing around the altar.
Since I first leapt upon the swift ship
on the misty sea in the shape of a dolphin,
pray to me as the Delphinius. And the altar itself
shall be called Delphinius, and shall be a sign forever.

Then take your meal beside the swift black ship
and pour libations to the blessed gods who hold Olympus.
When you have satisfied your desire for food,
come with me and sing the Ie-Paian
until you reach the place where you will keep my rich temple."

So he spoke. And they heard him well and obeyed.
First they lowered the sails and loosed the ox-hide ropes,
and brought the mast down to its crutch with the forestays.
They stepped out onto the beach of the sea.
They hauled the swift ship from the salt water onto the land,
high up on the sand, and stretched long props beneath it.
They built an altar on the beach of the sea,
and lighting a fire, they offered white barley upon it
and prayed, as he commanded, standing around the altar.
Then they took their meal beside the swift black ship
and poured libations to the blessed gods who hold Olympus.

When they had put away desire for food and drink,
they set out to walk. The lord Apollo, son of Zeus, led them,
holding his lyre in his hands, playing beautifully,
stepping high and fine. The Cretans followed, stamping,
toward Pytho, singing the Ie-Paian —
like the paean-singers of Crete, in whose breasts the goddess Muse
has placed honey-voiced song.
Untiring, they climbed the ridge on foot, and quickly reached
Parnassus and the lovely place where they were destined
to dwell, honored by many peoples.
He led them and showed them his holy sanctuary and rich temple.

Their hearts were stirred within their breasts.
The captain of the Cretans spoke to him:

"O Lord, since you have brought us far from our loved ones
and our fatherland — for so it pleased your heart —
how shall we live now? We ask you to consider.
This land bears no vines, nor gives good pasture,
so that we could live well from it and serve the peoples."

Then Apollo, son of Zeus, smiled at them and said:

"Foolish men, poor wretches, who crave
hardship and toil and tightness of heart —
I will tell you an easy word and set it in your minds.
Let each of you hold a knife in his right hand
and slaughter sheep continually. They will come in abundance,
all that the famous peoples bring to me.
Guard my temple and receive the tribes of humankind
who gather here, and above all show them my will.
But if there is any idle word or deed among you,
or outrage — as is the way of mortal men —
then other men will be set over you as masters,
and by force you will be subdued for all your days.
All has been told to you. Keep it in your hearts."

And so farewell, son of Zeus and Leto.
But I will remember you, and another song besides.

Colophon

Source text: Ancient Greek, from the Perseus Digital Library's canonical-greekLit repository. The Greek text follows Hugh G. Evelyn-White's 1914 Loeb Classical Library edition (Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns and Homerica, William Heinemann / Macmillan). Text keyboarded by Bill Merrill, 1988; SGML/TEI conversion by Lisa Cerrato, Stella Dee, et al. Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.

Translation: Good Works Translation from Ancient Greek by the New Tianmu Anglican Church. Translated by Tulku Rashīd, 2026. Gospel register. The translation aims for plain, direct English that preserves the original's rhythm and wonder. Epithets are rendered transparently (ἑκατηβόλος = "Far-Striker," ἰοχέαιρα = "who pours forth arrows," ἀργυρότοξος = "of the silver bow"). No commentary in the body. The Delian/Pythian division is marked as Parts I and II but the hymn is presented as one continuous work.

Reference consulted: Evelyn-White's English translation (1914, public domain) was consulted to verify readings of damaged or ambiguous passages. The English above is independently derived from the Greek.

Compiled and formatted for the Good Work Library by the New Tianmu Anglican Church, 2026.

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Source Text: Εἲς Ἀπόλλωνα

Greek source text from the Perseus Digital Library canonical-greekLit repository (CC BY-SA 3.0). Based on Hugh G. Evelyn-White's 1914 Loeb edition. Presented here for reference, study, and verification alongside the English translation above.

μνήσομαι οὐδὲ λάθωμαι Ἀπόλλωνος ἑκάτοιο,
ὅντε θεοὶ κατὰ δῶμα Διὸς τρομέουσιν ἰόντα·
καί ῥά τʼ ἀναΐσσουσιν ἐπὶ σχεδὸν ἐρχομένοιο
πάντες ἀφʼ ἑδράων, ὅτε φαίδιμα τόξα τιταίνει.
Λητὼ δʼ οἴη μίμνε παραὶ Διὶ τερπικεραύνῳ,
ἥ ῥα βιόν τʼ ἐχάλασσε καὶ ἐκλήισσε φαρέτρην,
καί οἱ ἀπʼ ἰφθίμων ὤμων χείρεσσιν ἑλοῦσα
τόξα κατεκρέμασε πρὸς κίονα πατρὸς ἑοῖο
πασσάλου ἐκ χρυσέου· τὸν δʼ ἐς θρόνον εἷσεν ἄγουσα.
τῷ δʼ ἄρα νέκταρ ἔδωκε πατὴρ δέπαϊ χρυσείῳ
δεικνύμενος φίλον υἱόν· ἔπειτα δὲ δαίμονες ἄλλοι
ἔνθα καθίζουσιν· χαίρει δέ τε πότνια Λητώ,
οὕνεκα τοξοφόρον καὶ καρτερὸν υἱὸν ἔτικτε.
χαῖρε, μάκαιρʼ ὦ Λητοῖ, ἐπεὶ τέκες ἀγλαὰ τέκνα,
Ἀπόλλωνά τʼ ἄνακτα καὶ Ἄρτεμιν ἰοχέαιραν,
τὴν μὲν ἐν Ὀρτυγίῃ, τὸν δὲ κραναῇ ἐνὶ Δήλῳ,
κεκλιμένη πρὸς μακρὸν ὄρος καὶ Κύνθιον ὄχθον,
ἀγχοτάτω φοίνικος, ἐπʼ Ἰνωποῖο ῥεέθροις.
πῶς τʼ ἄρ σʼ ὑμνήσω πάντως εὔυμνον ἐόντα;
πάντη γάρ τοι, Φοῖβε, νόμοι βεβλήατʼ ἀοιδῆς,
ἠμὲν ἀνʼ ἤπειρον πορτιτρόφον ἠδʼ ἀνὰ νήσους·
πᾶσαι δὲ σκοπιαί τοι ἅδον καὶ πρώονες ἄκροι
ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων ποταμοί θʼ ἅλαδε προρέοντες
ἀκταί τʼ εἰς ἅλα κεκλιμέναι λιμένες τε θαλάσσης.
ἦ ὥς σε πρῶτον Λητὼ τέκε, χάρμα βροτοῖσι,
κλινθεῖσα πρὸς Κύνθου ὄρος κραναῇ ἐνὶ νήσῳ,
Δήλῳ ἐν ἀμφιρύτῃ; ἑκάτερθε δὲ κῦμα κελαινὸν
ἐξῄει χέρσονδε λιγυπνοίοις ἀνέμοισιν,
ἔνθεν ἀπορνύμενος πᾶσι θνητοῖσιν ἀνάσσεις.
ὅσσους Κρήτη τʼ ἐντὸς ἔχει καὶ δῆμος Ἀθηνῶν
νῆσός τʼ Αἰγίνη ναυσικλειτή τʼ Εὔβοια,
Αἰγαί, Πειρεσίαι τε καὶ ἀγχιάλη Πεπάρηθος
Θρηίκιός τʼ Ἀθόως καὶ Πηλίου ἄκρα κάρηνα
Θρηικίη τε Σάμος Ἴδης τʼ ὄρεα σκιόεντα,
Σκῦρος καὶ Φώκαια καὶ Αὐτοκάνης ὄρος αἰπύ,
Ἴμβρος τʼ εὐκτιμένη καὶ Λῆμνος ἀμιχθαλόεσσα
Λέσβος τʼ ἠγαθέη, Μάκαρος ἕδος Αἰολίωνος,
καὶ Χίος, ἣ νήσων λιπαρωτάτη εἰν ἁλὶ κεῖται,
παιπαλόεις τε Μίμας καὶ Κωρύκου ἄκρα κάρηνα
καὶ Κλάρος αἰγλήεσσα καὶ Αἰσαγέης ὄρος αἰπὺ
καὶ Σάμος ὑδρηλὴ Μυκάλης τʼ αἰπεινὰ κάρηνα
Μίλητός τε Κόως τε, πόλις Μερόπων ἀνθρώπων,
καὶ Κνίδος αἰπεινὴ καὶ Κάρπαθος ἠνεμόεσσα
Νάξος τʼ ἠδὲ Πάρος Ῥήναιά τε πετρήεσσα,
τόσσον ἔπʼ ὠδίνουσα Ἑκηβόλον ἵκετο Λητώ,
εἴ τίς οἱ γαιέων υἱεῖ θέλοι οἰκία θέσθαι.
αἳ δὲ μάλʼ ἐτρόμεον καὶ ἐδείδισαν, οὐδέ τις ἔτλη
Φοῖβον δέξασθαι, καὶ πιοτέρη περ ἐοῦσα·
πρίν γʼ ὅτε δή ῥʼ ἐπὶ Δήλου ἐβήσατο πότνια Λητὼ
καί μιν ἀνειρομένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
δῆλʼ, εἰ γάρ κʼ ἐθέλοις ἕδος ἔμμεναι υἷος ἐμοῖο,
Φοίβου Ἀπόλλωνος, θέσθαι τʼ ἔνι πίονα νηόν, —
ἄλλος δʼ οὔτις σεῖό ποθʼ ἅψεται, οὐδέ σε λήσει·
οὐδʼ εὔβων σέ γʼ ἔσεσθαι ὀίομαι οὔτʼ εὔμηλον,
οὐδὲ τρύγην οἴσεις οὔτʼ ἂρ φυτὰ μυρία φύσεις.
εἰ δέ κʼ Ἀπόλλωνος ἑκαέργου νηὸν ἔχῃσθα,
ἄνθρωποί τοι πάντες ἀγινήσουσʼ ἑκατόμβας
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγειρόμενοι, κνίσση δέ τοι ἄσπετος αἰεὶ
δημοῦ ἀναΐξει βοσκήσεις θʼ οἵ κέ σʼ ἔχωσι
χειρὸς ἀπʼ ἀλλοτρίης, ἐπεὶ οὔ τοι πῖαρ ὑπʼ οὖδας.
ὣς φάτο· χαῖρε δὲ Δῆλος, ἀμειβομένη δὲ προσηύδα·
Λητοῖ, κυδίστη θύγατερ μεγάλου Κοίοιο,
ἀσπασίη κεν ἐγώ γε γονὴν ἑκάτοιο ἄνακτος
δεξαίμην· αἰνῶς γὰρ ἐτήτυμόν εἰμι δυσηχὴς
ἀνδράσιν· ὧδε δέ κεν περιτιμήεσσα γενοίμην.
ἀλλὰ τόδε τρομέω, Λητοῖ, ἔπος, οὐδέ σε κεύσω·
λίην γάρ τινά φασιν ἀτάσθαλον Ἀπόλλωνα
ἔσσεσθαι, μέγα δὲ πρυτανευσέμεν ἀθανάτοισι
καὶ θνητοῖσι βροτοῖσιν ἐπὶ ζείδωρον ἄρουραν.
τῷ ῥʼ αἰνῶς δείδοικα κατὰ φρένα καὶ κατὰ θυμόν,
μή, ὁπότʼ ἂν τὸ πρῶτον ἴδῃ φάος ἠελίοιο,
νῆσον ἀτιμήσας, ἐπεὶ ἦ κραναήπεδός εἰμι,
ποσσὶ καταστρέψας ὤσῃ ἁλὸς ἐν πελάγεσσιν,
ἔνθʼ ἐμὲ μὲν μέγα κῦμα κατὰ κρατὸς ἅλις αἰεὶ
κλύσσει· ὃ δʼ ἄλλην γαῖαν ἀφίξεται, ἥ κεν ἅδῃ οἱ,
τεύξασθαι νηόν τε καὶ ἄλσεα δενδρήεντα·
πουλύποδες δʼ ἐν ἐμοὶ θαλάμας φῶκαί τε μέλαιναι
οἰκία ποιήσονται ἀκηδέα, χήτεϊ λαῶν.
ἀλλʼ εἴ μοι τλαίης γε, θεά, μέγαν ὅρκον ὀμόσσαι,
ἐνθάδε μιν πρῶτον τεύξειν περικαλλέα νηὸν
ἔμμεναι ἀνθρώπων χρηστήριον, αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα
πάντας ἐπʼ ἀνθρώπους, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολυώνυμος ἔσται.
ὣς ἄρ ἔφη· Λητὼ δὲ θεῶν μέγαν ὅρκον ὄμοσσε·
ἴστω νῦν τάδε Γαῖα καὶ Οὐρανὸς εὐρὺς ὕπερθεν
καὶ τὸ κατειβόμενον Στυγὸς ὕδωρ, ὅστε μέγιστος
ὅρκος δεινότατός τε πέλει μακάρεσσι θεοῖσιν·
ἦ μὴν Φοίβου τῇδε θυώδης ἔσσεται αἰεὶ
βωμὸς καὶ τέμενος, τίσει δέ σέ γʼ ἔξοχα πάντων.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ὄμοσέν τε τελεύτησέν τε τὸν ὅρκον,
Δῆλος μὲν μάλα χαῖρε γονῇ ἑκάτοιο ἄνακτος·
Λητὼ δʼ ἐννῆμάρ τε καὶ ἐννέα νύκτας ἀέλπτοις
ὠδίνεσσι πέπαρτο. θεαὶ δʼ ἔσαν ἔνδοθι πᾶσαι,
ὅσσαι ἄρισται ἔασι, Διώνη τε Ῥείη τε
Ἰχναίη τε Θέμις καὶ ἀγάστονος Ἀμφιτρίτη
ἄλλαι τʼ ἀθάναται νόσφιν λευκωλένου Ἥρης·
ἧστο γὰρ ἐν μεγάροισι Διὸς νεφεληγερέταο·
μούνη δʼ οὐκ ἐπέπυστο μογοστόκος Εἰλείθυια·
ἧστο γὰρ ἄκρῳ Ὀλύμπῳ ὑπὸ χρυσέοισι νέφεσσιν,
Ἥρης φραδμοσύνης λευκωλένου, ἥ μιν ἔρυκε
ζηλοσύνῃ, ὅτʼ ἄρʼ υἱὸν ἀμύμονά τε κρατερόν τε
Λητὼ τέξεσθαι καλλιπλόκαμος τότʼ ἔμελλεν.
αἳ δʼ Ἶριν προὔπεμψαν ἐυκτιμένης ἀπὸ νήσου,
ἀξέμεν Εἰλείθυιαν, ὑποσχόμεναι μέγαν ὅρμον,
χρυσείοισι λίνοισιν ἐερμένον, ἐννεάπηχυν·
νόσφιν δʼ ἤνωγον καλέειν λευκωλένου Ἥρης,
νή μιν ἔπειτʼ ἐπέεσσιν ἀποστρέψειεν ἰοῦσαν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ τό γʼ ἄκουσε ποδήνεμος ὠκέα Ἶρις,
βῆ ῥα θέειν, ταχέως δὲ διήνυσε πᾶν τὸ μεσηγύ.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεί ῥʼ ἵκανε θεῶν ἕδος, αἰπὺν Ὄλυμπον,
αὐτίκʼ ἄρʼ Εἰλείθυιαν ἀπὲκ μεγάροιο θύραζε
ἐκπροκαλεσσαμένη ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα,
πάντα μάλʼ, ὡς ἐπέτελλον Ὀλύμπια δώματʼ ἔχουσαι.
τῇ δʼ ἄρα θυμὸν ἔπειθεν ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι·
βὰν δὲ ποσὶ τρήρωσι πελειάσιν ἴθμαθʼ ὁμοῖαι.
εὖτʼ ἐπὶ Δήλου ἔβαινε μογοστόκος Εἰλείθυια,
δὴ τότε τὴν τόκος εἷλε, μενοίνησεν δὲ τεκέσθαι.
ἀμφὶ δὲ φοίνικι βάλε πήχεε, γοῦνα δʼ ἔρεισε
λειμῶνι μαλακῷ· μείδησε δὲ γαῖʼ ὑπένερθεν·
ἐκ δʼ ἔθορε πρὸ φόωσδε· θεαὶ δʼ ὀλόλυξαν ἅπασαι.
ἔνθα σέ, ἤιε Φοῖβε, θεαὶ λόον ὕδατι καλῷ
ἁγνῶς καὶ καθαρῶς, σπάρξαν δʼ ἐν φάρεϊ λευκῷ,
λεπτῷ, νηγατέῳ· περὶ δὲ χρύσεον στρόφον ἧκαν.
οὐδʼ ἄρʼ Ἀπόλλωνα χρυσάορα θήσατο μήτηρ,
ἀλλὰ Θέμις νέκταρ τε καὶ ἀμβροσίην ἐρατεινὴν
ἀθανάτῃσιν χερσὶν ἐπήρξατο· χαῖρε δὲ Λητώ,
οὕνεκα τοξοφόρον καὶ καρτερὸν υἱὸν ἔτικτεν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ δή, Φοῖβε, κατέβρως ἄμβροτον εἶδαρ,
οὔ σέ γʼ ἔπειτʼ ἴσχον χρύσεοι στρόφοι ἀσπαίροντα,
οὐδʼ ἔτι δέσματʼ ἔρυκε, λύοντο δὲ πείρατα πάντα.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἀθανάτῃσι μετηύδα Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων·
εἴη μοι κίθαρίς τε φίλη καὶ καμπύλα τόξα,
χρήσω δʼ ἀνθρώποισι Διὸς νημερτέα βουλήν.
ὣς εἰπὼν ἐβίβασκεν ἐπὶ χθονὸς εὐρυοδείης
Φοῖβος ἀκερσεκόμης, ἑκατηβόλος· αἳ δʼ ἄρα πᾶσαι
θάμβεον ἀθάναται· χρυσῷ δʼ ἄρα Δῆλος ἅπασα
[βεβρίθει, καθορῶσα Διὸς Λητοὺς τε γενέθλην,
γηθοσύνῃ, ὅτι μιν θεὸς εἵλετο οἰκία θέσθαι
νήσων ἠπείρου τε, φίλησε δὲ κηρόθι μᾶλλον.ll. 136-8 are instrusive, being alternative for l. 139. They
are found in Π and the edition of Stephanus (in text), and in the margin of the ETL
(with the note “in another copy these verses are also extant”). In D they are added by a second hand.]
ἤνθησʼ, ὡς ὅτε τε ῥίον οὔρεος ἄνθεσιν ὕλης.
αὐτὸς δʼ, ἀργυρότοξε, ἄναξ ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον,
ἄλλοτε μέν τʼ ἐπὶ Κύνθου ἐβήσαο παιπαλόεντος,
ἄλλοτε δʼ ἂν νήσους τε καὶ ἀνέρας ἠλάσκαζες.
πολλοί τοι νηοί τε καὶ ἄλσεα δενδρήεντα·
πᾶσαι δὲ σκοπιαί τε φίλαι καὶ πρώονες ἄκροι
ὑψηλῶν ὀρέων ποταμοί θʼ ἅλαδε προρέοντες·
ἀλλὰ σὺ Δήλῳ, Φοῖβε, μάλιστʼ ἐπιτέρπεαι ἦτορ,
ἔνθα τοι ἑλκεχίτωνες Ἰάονες ἠγερέθονται
αὐτοῖς σὺν παίδεσσι καὶ αἰδοίῃς ἀλόχοισιν.
οἱ δέ σε πυγμαχίῃ τε καὶ ὀρχηθμῷ καὶ ἀοιδῇ
μνησάμενοι τέρπουσιν, ὅτʼ ἄν στήσωνται ἀγῶνα.
φαίη κʼ ἀθανάτους καὶ ἀγήρως ἔμμεναι αἰεί,
ὃς τόθʼ ὑπαντιάσειʼ, ὅτʼ Ἰάονες ἀθρόοι εἶεν·
πάντων γάρ κεν ἴδοιτο χάριν, τέρψαιτο δὲ θυμὸν
ἄνδρας τʼ εἰσορόων καλλιζώνους τε γυναῖκας
νῆάς τʼ ὠκείας ἠδʼ αὐτῶν κτήματα πολλά.
πρὸς δὲ τόδε μέγα θαῦμα, ὅου κλέος οὔποτʼ ὀλεῖται,
κοῦραι Δηλιάδες, ἑκατηβελέταο θεράπναι·
αἵ τʼ ἐπεὶ ἂρ πρῶτον μὲν Ἀπόλλωνʼ ὑμνήσωσιν,
αὖτις δʼ αὖ Λητώ τε καὶ Ἄρτεμιν ἰοχέαιραν,
μνησάμεναι ἀνδρῶν τε παλαιῶν ἠδὲ γυναικῶν
ὕμνον ἀείδουσιν, θέλγουσι δὲ φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων.
πάντων δʼ ἀνθρώπων φωνὰς καὶ βαμβαλιαστὺν
μιμεῖσθʼ ἴσασιν· φαίη δέ κεν αὐτὸς ἕκαστος
φθέγγεσθʼ· οὕτω σφιν καλὴ συνάρηρεν ἀοιδή.
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ ἱλήκοι μὲν Ἀπόλλων Ἀρτέμιδι ξύν,
χαίρετε δʼ ὑμεῖς πᾶσαι· ἐμεῖο δὲ καὶ μετόπισθεν
μνήσασθʼ, ὁππότε κέν τις ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων
ἐνθάδ’ ἀνείρηται ξεῖνος ταλαπείριος ἐλθών·
ὦ κοῦραι, τίς δʼ ὔμμιν ἀνὴρ ἥδιστος ἀοιδῶν
ἐνθάδε πωλεῖται, καὶ τέῳ τέρπεσθε μάλιστα;
ὑμεῖς δʼ εὖ μάλα πᾶσαι ὑποκρίνασθαι ἀφήμως·
τυφλὸς ἀνήρ, οἰκεῖ δὲ Χίῳ ἔνι παιπαλοέσσῃ
τοῦ πᾶσαι μετόπισθεν ἀριστεύσουσιν ἀοιδαί.
ἡμεῖς δʼ ὑμέτερον κλέος οἴσομεν, ὅσσον ἐπʼ αἶαν
ἀνθρώπων στρεφόμεσθα πόλεις εὖ ναιεταώσας·
οἳ δʼ ἐπὶ δὴ πείσονται, ἐπεὶ καὶ ἐτήτυμόν ἐστιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼν οὐ λήξω ἑκηβόλον Ἀπόλλωνα
ὑμνέων ἀργυρότοξον, ὃν ἠύκομος τέκε Λητώ.
ὦ ἄνα, καὶ Λυκίην καὶ Μῃονίην ἐρατεινὴν
καὶ Μίλητον ἔχεις, ἔναλον πόλιν ἱμερόεσσαν,
εἶσι δὲ φορμίζων Λητοῦς ἐρικυδέος υἱὸς
φόρμιγγι γλαφυρῇ πρὸς Πυθὼ πετρήεσσαν,
ἄμβροτα εἵματʼ ἔχων τεθυωμένα· τοῖο δὲ φόρμιγξ
χρυσέου ὑπὸ πλήκτρου καναχὴν ἔχει ἱμερόεσσαν.
ἔνθεν δὲ πρὸς Ὄλυμπον ἀπὸ χθονός, ὥστε νόημα,
εἶσι Διὸς πρὸς δῶμα θεῶν μεθʼ ὁμήγυριν ἄλλων.
αὐτίκα δʼ ἀθανάτοισι μέλει κίθαρις καὶ ἀοιδή·
Μοῦσαι μέν θʼ ἅμα πᾶσαι ἀμειβόμεναι ὀπὶ καλῇ
ὑμνεῦσίν ῥα θεῶν δῶρʼ ἄμβροτα ἠδʼ ἀνθρώπων
τλημοσύνας, ὅσʼ ἔχοντες ὑπʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι
ζώουσʼ ἀφραδέες καὶ ἀμήχανοι, οὐδὲ δύνανται
εὑρέμεναι θανάτοιό τʼ ἄκος καὶ γήραος ἄλκαρ·
αὐτὰρ ἐυπλόκαμοι Χάριτες καὶ ἐύφρονες Ὧραι
Ἁρμονίη θʼ Ἥβη τε Διὸς θυγάτηρ τʼ Ἀφροδίτη
ὀρχεῦντʼ ἀλλήλων ἐπὶ καρπῷ χεῖρας ἔχουσαι·
τῇσι μὲν οὔτʼ αἰσχρὴ μεταμέλπεται οὔτʼ ἐλάχεια,
ἀλλὰ μάλα μεγάλη τε ἰδεῖν καὶ εἶδος ἀγητή,
Ἄρτεμις ἰοχέαιρα ὁμότροφος Ἀπόλλωνι.
ἐν δʼ αὖ τῇσιν Ἄρης καὶ ἐύσκοπος Ἀργειφόντης
παίζουσʼ· αὐτὰρ ὁ Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων ἐγκιθαρίζει
καλὰ καὶ ὕψι βιβάς· αἴγλη δέ μιν ἀμφιφαείνει
μαρμαρυγαί τε ποδῶν καὶ ἐυκλώστοιο χιτῶνος.
οἳ δʼ ἐπιτέρπονται θυμὸν μέγαν εἰσορόωντες
Λητώ τε χρυσοπλόκαμος καὶ μητίετα Ζεὺς
υἷα φίλον παίζοντα μετʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι.
πῶς τʼ ἄρ σʼ ὑμνήσω πάντως εὔυμνον ἐόντα;
ἠέ σʼ ἐνὶ μνηστῆρσιν ἀείδω καὶ φιλότητι,
ὅππως μνωόμενος ἔκιες Ἀζαντίδα κούρην
Ἴσχυʼ ἅμʼ ἀντιθέῳ Ἐλατιονίδη εὐίππῳ;
ἢ ἅμα Θόρβαντι Τριοπέῳ γένος, ἢ ἅμʼ Ἐρευθεῖ;
ἢ ἅμα Λευκίππῳ καὶ Λευκίπποιο δάμαρτι
πεζός, ὃ δʼ ἵπποισιν· οὐ μὴν Τρίοπός γʼ ἐνέλειπεν.
ἢ ὡς τὸ πρῶτον χρηστήριον ἀνθρώποισι
ζητεύων κατὰ γαῖαν ἔβης, ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον;
Πιερίην μὲν πρῶτον ἀπʼ Οὐλύμποιο κατῆλθες·
Λέκτον τʼ ἠμαθοέντα παρέστιχες ἠδʼ Ἐνιῆνας
καὶ διὰ Περραιβούς· τάχα δʼ εἰς Ἰαωλκὸν ἵκανες,
Κηναίου τʼ ἐπέβης ναυσικλειτῆς Εὐβοίης.
στῆς δʼ ἐπὶ Ληλάντῳ πεδίῳ· τό τοι οὐχ ἅδε θυμῷ
τεύξασθαι νηόν τε καὶ ἄλσεα δενδρήεντα.
ἔνθεν δʼ Εὔριπον διαβάς, ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον,
βῆς ἄνʼ ὄρος ζάθεον, χλωρόν· τάχα δʼ ἷξες ἀπʼ αὐτοῦ
ἐς Μυκαλησσὸν ἰὼν καὶ Τευμησσὸν λεχεποίην.
Θήβης δʼ εἰσαφίκανες ἕδος καταειμένον ὕλῃ·
οὐ γάρ πώ τις ἔναιε βροτῶν ἱερῇ ἐνὶ Θήβῃ,
οὐδʼ ἄρα πω τότε γʼ ἦσαν ἀταρπιτοὶ οὐδὲ κέλευθοι
Θήβης ἂμ πεδίον πυρηφόρον, ἀλλʼ ἔχεν ὕλη.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω ἔκιες, ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον,
Ὀγχηστὸν δʼ ἷξες, Ποσιδήιον ἀγλαὸν ἄλσος·
ἔνθα νεοδμὴς πῶλος ἀναπνέει ἀχθόμενός περ
ἕλκων ἅρματα καλά· χαμαὶ δʼ ἐλατὴρ ἀγαθός περ
ἐκ δίφροιο θορὼν ὁδὸν ἔρχεται· οἳ δὲ τέως μὲν
κείνʼ ὄχεα κροτέουσι ἀνακτορίην ἀφιέντες.
εἰ δέ κεν ἅρματʼ ἀγῇσιν ἐν ἄλσεϊ δενδρήεντι,
ἵππους μὲν κομέουσι, τὰ δὲ κλίναντες ἐῶσιν·
ὣς γὰρ τὰ πρώτισθʼ ὁσίη γένεθʼ· οἳ δὲ ἄνακτι
εὔχονται, δίφρον δὲ θεοῦ τότε μοῖρα φυλάσσει.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω ἔκιες, ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον·
Κηφισσὸν δʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα κιχήσαο καλλιρέεθρον,
ὅς τε Λιλαίηθεν προχέει καλλίρροον ὕδωρ.
τὸν διαβάς, Ἑκάεργε, καὶ Ὠκαλέην πολύπυργον
ἔνθεν ἄρʼ εἰς Ἁλίαρτον ἀφίκεο ποιήεντα.
βῆς δʼ ἐπὶ Τελφούσης· τόθι τοι ἅδε χῶρος ἀπήμων
τεύξασθαι νηόν τε καὶ ἄλσεα δενδρήεντα·
στῆς δὲ μάλʼ ἄγχʼ αὐτῆς καὶ μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπες·
Τελφοῦσʼ, ἐνθάδε δὴ φρονέω περικαλλέα νηὸν
ἀνθρώπων τεῦξαι χρηστήριον, οἵτε μοι αἰεὶ
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγινήσουσι τεληέσσας
ἑκατόμβας,
ἠμὲν ὅσοι Πελοπόννησον πίειραν ἔχουσιν
ἠδʼ ὅσοι
Εὐρώπην τε καὶ ἀμφιρύτας κατὰ νήσους,
χρησόμενοι· τοῖσιν δέ κʼ ἐγὼ νημερτέα
βουλὴν
πᾶσι θεμιστεύοιμι χρέων ἐνὶ πίονι νηῷ.
ὣς εἰπὼν διέθηκε θεμείλια Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
εὐρέα καὶ μάλα μακρὰ διηνεκές· ἣ δὲ ἰδοῦσα
Τελφοῦσα κραδίην ἐχολώσατο εἶπέ τε μῦθον·
φοῖβε ἄναξ ἑκάεργε, ἔπος τί τοι ἐν φρεσὶ θήσω.
ἐνθάδʼ ἐπεὶ φρονέεις τεῦξαι περικαλλέα νηὸν
ἔμμεναι ἀνθρώποις
χρηστήριον, οἵτε τοι αἰεὶ
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγινήσουσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·
ἀλλʼ ἔκ τοι ἐρέω, σὺ δʼ ἐνὶ φρεσὶ βάλλεο σῇσι,
πημανέει σʼ αἰεὶ κτύπος
ἵππων ὠκειάων
ἀρδόμενοί τʼ οὐρῆες ἐμῶν ἱερῶν ἀπὸ πηγέων·
ἔνθα τις
ἀνθρώπων βουλήσεται εἰσοράασθαι
ἅρματά τʼ εὐποίητα καὶ ὠκυπόδων κτύπον
ἵππων
ἢ νηόν τε μέγαν καὶ κτήματα πόλλʼ ἐνεόντα.
ἀλλʼ εἰ δή τι πίθοιο, σὺ δὲ κρείσσων καὶ ἀρείων
ἐσσί, ἄναξ, ἐμέθεν, σεῦ δὲ
σθένος ἐστὶ μέγιστον,
ἐν Κρίσῃ ποίησαι ὑπὸ πτυχὶ Παρνησοῖο.
ἔνθʼ
οὔθʼ ἅρματα καλὰ δονήσεται οὔτε τοι ἵππων
ὠκυπόδων κτύπος ἔσται ἐύδμητον περὶ
βωμόν,
ἀλλά τοι ὣς προσάγοιεν Ἰηπαιήονι δῶρα
ἀνθρώπων κλυτὰ φῦλα· σὺ δὲ
φρένας ἀμφιγεγηθὼς
δέξαιʼ ἱερὰ καλὰ περικτιόνων ἀνθρώπων.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ Ἑκάτου πέπιθε φρένας, ὄφρα οἱ αὐτῇ
Τελφούσῃ κλέος εἴη ἐπὶ χθονί, μηδʼ Ἑκάτοιο.
ἔνθεν δὲ προτέρω ἔκιες, ἑκατηβόλʼ Ἄπολλον·
ἷξες δʼ ἐς Φλεγύων ἀνδρῶν πόλιν ὑβριστάων,
οἳ Διὸς οὐκ ἀλέγοντες ἐπὶ χθονὶ ναιετάασκον
ἐν καλῇ βήσσῃ Κηφισίδος ἐγγύθι λίμνης.
ἔνθεν καρπαλίμως προσέβης πρὸς δειράδα θύων
ἵκεο δʼ ἐς Κρίσην ὑπὸ Παρνησὸν νιφόεντα,
κνημὸν πρὸς Ζέφυρον τετραμμένον, αὐτὰρ ὕπερθεν
πέτρη ἐπικρέμαται, κοίλη δʼ ὑποδέδρομε βῆσσα,
τρηχεῖʼ· ἔνθα ἄναξ τεκμήρατο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
νηὸν ποιήσασθαι ἐπήρατον εἶπέ τε μῦθον·
ἐνθάδε δὴ φρονέω τεῦξαι περικαλλέα νηὸν
ἔμμεναι ἀνθρώποις χρηστήριον, οἵτε μοι αἰεὶ
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγινήσουσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας,
ἠμὲν ὅσοι Πελοπόννησον πίειραν ἔχουσιν,
ἠδʼ ὅσοι Εὐρώπην τε καὶ ἀμφιρύτας κατὰ νήσους,
χρησόμενοι· τοῖσιν δʼ ἄρʼ ἐγὼ νημερτέα βουλὴν
πᾶσι θεμιστεύοιμι χρέων ἐνὶ πίονι νηῷ.
ὣς εἰπὼν διέθηκε θεμείλια Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων
εὐρέα καὶ μάλα μακρὰ διηνεκές· αὐτὰρ ἐπʼ αὐτοῖς
λάινον οὐδὸν ἔθηκε Τροφώνιος ἠδʼ Ἀγαμήδης,
υἱέες Ἐργίνου, φίλοι ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν·
ἀμφὶ δὲ νηὸν ἔνασσαν ἀθέσφατα φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων
ξεστοῖσιν λάεσσιν, ἀοίδιμον ἔμμεναι αἰεί.
ἀγχοῦ δὲ κρήνη καλλίρροος, ἔνθα δράκαιναν
κτεῖνεν ἄναξ, Διὸς υἱός, ἀπὸ κρατεροῖο βιοῖο,
ζατρεφέα, μεγάλην, τέρας ἄγριον, ἣ κακὰ πολλὰ
ἀνθρώπους ἔρδεσκεν ἐπὶ χθονί, πολλὰ μὲν αὐτούς,
πολλὰ δὲ μῆλα ταναύποδʼ, ἐπεὶ πέλε πῆμα δαφοινόν.
καὶ ποτε δεξαμένη χρυσοθρόνου ἔτρεφεν Ἥρης
δεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε Τυφάονα, πῆμα βροτοῖσιν·
ὅν ποτʼ ἄρʼ Ἥρη ἔτικτε χολωσαμένη Διὶ πατρί,
ἡνίκʼ ἄρα Κρονίδης ἐρικυδέα γείνατʼ Ἀθήνην
ἐν κορυφῇ· ἣ δʼ αἶψα χολώσατο πότνια Ἥρη
ἠδὲ καὶ ἀγρομένοισι μετʼ ἀθανάτοισιν ἔειπε·
κέκλυτέ μευ, πάντες τε θεοὶ πᾶσαί τε θέαιναι,
ὡς ἔμʼ ἀτιμάζειν ἄρχει νεφεληγερέτα Ζεὺς
πρῶτος, ἐπεί μʼ ἄλοχον ποιήσατο κέδνʼ εἰδυῖαν·
καὶ νῦν νόσφιν ἐμεῖο τέκε γλαυκῶπιν Ἀθήνην,
ἣ πᾶσιν μακάρεσσι μεταπρέπει ἀθανάτοισιν·
αὐτὰρ ὅ γʼ ἠπεδανὸς γέγονεν μετὰ πᾶσι θεοῖσι
παῖς ἐμὸς Ἥφαιστος, ῥικνὸς πόδας, ὃν τέκον αὐτή·
ῥῖψʼ ἀνὰ χερσὶν ἑλοῦσα καὶ ἔμβαλον εὐρέι πόντῳ·
ἀλλά ἑ Νηρῆος θυγάτηρ Θέτις ἀργυρόπεζα
δέξατο καὶ μετὰ ᾗσι κασιγνήτῃσι κόμισσεν.
ὡς ὄφελʼ ἄλλο θεοῖσι χαρίζεσθαι μακάρεσσι.
σχέτλιε, ποικιλομῆτα, τί νῦν μητίσεαι ἄλλο;
πῶς ἔτλης οἶος τεκέειν γλαυκῶπιν Ἀθήνην;
οὐκ ἂν ἐγὼ τεκόμην; καὶ σὴ κεκλημένη ἔμπης
ἦα ῥʼ ἐν ἀθανάτοισιν, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι.
φράζεο νῦν μή τοί τι κακὸν μητίσομʼ ὀπίσσω.
καὶ νῦν μέντοι ἐγὼ τεχνήσομαι, ὥς κε γένηται
παῖς ἐμός, ὅς κε θεοῖσι μεταπρέποι ἀθανάτοισιν,
οὔτε σὸν αἰσχύνασʼ ἱερὸν λέχος οὔτʼ ἐμὸν αὐτῆς.
οὐδέ τοι εἰς εὐνὴν πωλήσομαι, ἀλλʼ ἀπὸ σεῖο
τηλόθʼ ἐοῦσα θεοῖσι μετέσσομαι ἀθανάτοισιν.
ὣς εἰποῦσʼ ἀπὸ νόσφι θεῶν κίε χωομένη κῆρ.
αὐτίκʼ ἔπειτʼ ἠρᾶτο βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη,
χειρὶ καταπρηνεῖ δʼ ἔλασε χθόνα καὶ φάτο μῦθον·
κέκλυτε νῦν μευ, Γαῖα καὶ Οὐρανὸς εὐρὺς ὕπερθεν
Τιτῆνές τε θεοί, τοὶ ὑπὸ χθονὶ ναιετάοντες
Τάρταρον ἀμφὶ μέγαν, τῶν ἒξ ἄνδρες τε θεοί τε·
αὐτοὶ νῦν μευ πάντες ἀκούσατε καὶ δότε παῖδα
νόσφι Διός, μηδέν τι βίην ἐπιδευέα κείνου·
ἀλλʼ ὅ γε φέρτερος ἔστω, ὅσον Κρόνου εὐρύοπα Ζεύς.
ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασʼ ἵμασε χθόνα χειρὶ παχείῃ·
κινήθη δʼ ἄρα Γαῖα φερέσβιος· ἣ δὲ ἰδοῦσα
τέρπετο ὃν κατὰ θυμόν· ὀίετο γὰρ τελέεσθαι.
ἐκ τούτου δὴ ἔπειτα τελεσφόρον εἰς ἐνιαυτὸν
οὔτε πότʼ εἰς εὐνὴν Διὸς ἤλυθε μητιόεντος,
οὔτε πότʼ ἐς θῶκον πολυδαίδαλον, ὡς τὸ πάρος περ
αὐτῷ ἐφεζομένη πυκινὰς φραζέσκετο βουλάς·
ἀλλʼ ἥ γʼ ἐν νηοῖσι πολυλλίστοισι μένουσα
τέρπετο οἷς ἱεροῖσι βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ μῆνές τε καὶ ἡμέραι ἐξετελεῦντο
ἂψ περιτελλομένου ἔτεος καὶ ἐπήλυθον ὧραι,
ἣ δʼ ἔτεκʼ οὔτε θεοῖς ἐναλίγκιον οὔτε βροτοῖσι,
δεινόν τʼ ἀργαλέον τε Τυφάονα, πῆμα βροτοῖσιν.
αὐτίκα τόνδε λαβοῦσα βοῶπις πότνια Ἥρη
δῶκεν ἔπειτα φέρουσα κακῷ κακόν· ἣ δʼ ὑπέδεκτο.
ὃς κακὰ πόλλʼ ἔρδεσκεν ἀγακλυτὰ φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων·
ὃς τῇ γʼ ἀντιάσειε, φέρεσκέ μιν αἴσιμον ἦμαρ,
πρίν γέ οἱ ἰὸν ἐφῆκε ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων
καρτερόν· ἣ δʼ ὀδύνῃσιν ἐρεχθομένη χαλεπῇσι
κεῖτο μέγʼ ἀσθμαίνουσα κυλινδομένη κατὰ χῶρον.
θεσπεσίη δʼ ἐνοπὴ γένετʼ ἄσπετος· ἣ δὲ καθʼ ὕλην
πυκνὰ μάλʼ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα ἑλίσσετο, λεῖπε δὲ θυμὸν
φοινὸν ἀποπνείουσʼ· ὃ δʼ ἐπηύξατο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων·
ἐνταυθοῖ νῦν πύθευ ἐπὶ χθονὶ βωτιανείρῃ·
οὐδὲ σύ γε ζώουσα κακὸν δήλημα βροτοῖσιν
ἔσσεαι, οἳ γαίης πολυφόρβου καρπὸν ἔδοντες
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγινήσουσι τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας·
οὐδέ τί τοι θάνατόν γε δυσηλεγέʼ οὔτε Τυφωεὺς
ἀρκέσει οὔτε Χίμαιρα δυσώνυμος, ἀλλά σέ γʼ αὐτοῦ
πύσει Γαῖα μέλαινα καὶ ἠλέκτωρ Ὑπερίων.
ὣς φάτʼ ἐπευχόμενος· τὴν δὲ σκότος ὄσσε κάλυψε.
τὴν δʼ αὐτοῦ κατέπυσʼ ἱερὸν μένος Ἠελίοιο,
ἐξ οὗ νῦν Πυθὼ κικλήσκεται· οἳ δὲ ἄνακτα
Πύθιον ἀγκαλέουσιν ἐπώνυμον, οὕνεκα κεῖθι
αὐτοῦ πῦσε πέλωρ μένος ὀξέος Ἠελίοιο.
καὶ τότʼ ἄρʼ ἔγνω ᾗσιν ἐνὶ φρεσὶ Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων,
οὕνεκά μιν κρήνη καλλίρροος ἐξαπάφησε·
βῆ δʼ ἐπὶ Τελφούσῃ κεχολωμένος, αἶψα δʼ ἵκανε·
στῆ δὲ μάλʼ ἄγχʼ αὐτῆς καί μιν πρὸς μῦθον ἔειπε·
Τελφοῦσʼ, οὐκ ἄρʼ ἔμελλες ἐμὸν νόον ἐξαπαφοῦσα
χῶρον ἔχουσʼ ἐρατὸν προρέειν καλλίρροον ὕδωρ.
ἐνθάδε δὴ καὶ ἐμὸν κλέος ἔσσεται, οὐδὲ σὸν οἴης.
ἦ καὶ ἐπὶ ῥίον ὦσε ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων
πετραίῃς προχυτῇσιν, ἀπέκρυψεν δὲ ῥέεθρα
καὶ βωμὸν ποιήσατʼ ἐν ἄλσεϊ δενδρήεντι,
ἄγχι μάλα κρήνης καλλιρρόου· ἔνθαδʼ ἄνακτι
πάντες ἐπίκλησιν Τελφουσίῳ εὐχετόωνται,
οὕνεκα Τελφούσης ἱερῆς ᾔσχυνε ῥέεθρα.
καὶ τότε δὴ κατὰ θυμὸν ἐφράζετο Φοῖβος Απόλλων,
οὕστινας ἀνθρώπους ὀργείονας εἰσαγάγοιτο,
οἳ θεραπεύσονται Πυθοῖ ἔνι πετρηέσσῃ·
ταῦτʼ ἄρα ὁρμαίνων ἐνόησʼ ἐπὶ οἴνοπι πόντῳ
νῆα θοήν· ἐν δʼ ἄνδρες ἔσαν πολέες τε καὶ ἐσθλοί,
Κρῆτες ἀπὸ Κνωσοῦ Μινωίου, οἵ ῥα ἄνακτι
ἱερά τε ῥέζουσι καὶ ἀγγέλλουσι θέμιστας
φοίβου Ἀπόλλωνος χρυσαόρου, ὅττι κεν εἴπῃ
χρείων ἐκ δάφνης γυάλων ὕπο Παρνησοῖο.
οἳ μὲν ἐπὶ πρῆξιν καὶ χρήματα νηὶ μελαίνῃ
ἐς Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα Πυλοιγενέας τʼ ἀνθρώπους
ἔπλεον· αὐτὰρ ὃ τοῖσι συνήντετο Φοῖβος Ἀπόλλων·
ἐν πόντῳ δʼ ἐπόρουσε δέμας δελφῖνι ἐοικὼς
νηὶ θοῇ καὶ κεῖτο πέλωρ μέγα τε δεινόν τε·
τῶν δʼ οὔτις κατὰ θυμὸν ἐπεφράσαθʼ ὥστε νοῆσαι
πάντοσʼ ἀνασσείσασκε, τίνασσε δὲ νήια δοῦρα.
οἳ δʼ ἀκέων ἐνὶ νηὶ καθήατο δειμαίνοντες·
οὐδʼ οἵ γʼ ὅπλʼ ἔλυον κοίλην ἀνὰ νῆα μέλαιναν,
οὐδʼ ἔλυον λαῖφος νηὸς κυανοπρώροιο,
ἀλλʼ ὡς τὰ πρώτιστα κατεστήσαντο βοεῦσιν,
ὣς ἔπλεον· κραιπνὸς δὲ Νότος κατόπισθεν ἔπειγε
νῆα θοήν· πρῶτον δὲ παρημείβοντο Μάλειαν,
πὰρ δὲ Λακωνίδα γαῖαν ἁλιστέφανον πτολίεθρον
ἷξον καὶ χῶρον τερψιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο,
Ταίναρον, ἔνθα τε μῆλα βαθύτριχα βόσκεται αἰεὶ
Ἠελίοιο ἄνακτος, ἔχει δʼ ἐπιτερπέα χῶρον.
οἳ μὲν ἄρʼ ἔνθʼ ἔθελον νῆα σχεῖν ἠδʼ ἀποβάντες
φράσσασθαι μέγα θαῦμα καὶ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἰδέσθαι,
εἰ μενέει νηὸς γλαφυρῆς δαπέδοισι πέλωρον
ἢ εἰς οἶδμʼ ἅλιον πολυΐχθυον αὖτις ὀρούσει.
ἀλλʼ οὐ πηδαλίοισιν ἐπείθετο νηῦς εὐεργής,
ἀλλὰ παρὲκ Πελοπόννησον πίειραν ἔχουσα
ἤιʼ ὁδόν· πνοιῇ δὲ ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων
ῥηιδίως ἴθυνʼ· ἣ δὲ πρήσσουσα κέλευθον
Ἀρήνην ἵκανε καὶ Ἀργυφέην ἐρατεινὴν
καὶ Θρύον, Ἀλφειοῖο πόρον, καὶ ἐύκτιτον Αἶπυ
καὶ Πύλον ἠμαθόεντα Πυλοιγενέας τʼ ἀνθρώπους.
βῆ δὲ παρὰ Κπουνοὺς καὶ Χαλκίδα καὶ παρὰ Δύμην
ἠδὲ παρʼ Ἤλιδα δῖαν, ὅθι κρατέουσιν Ἐπειοί.
εὖτε Φερὰς ἐπέβαλλεν, ἀγαλλομένη Διὸς οὔρῳ,
καί σφιν ὑπὲκ νεφέων Ἰθάκης τʼ ὄρος αἰπὺ πέφαντο
Δουλίχιόν τε Σάμη τε καὶ ὑλήεσσα Ζάκυνθος.
ἀλλʼ ὅτε δὴ Πελοπόννησον παρενίσατο πᾶσαν
καὶ δὴ ἐπὶ Κρίσης κατεφαίνετο κόλπος ἀπείρων,
ὅστε διὲκ Πελοπόννησον πίειραν ἐέργει·
ἦλθʼ ἄνεμος Ζέφυρος μέγας, αἴθριος, ἐκ Διὸς αἴσης,
λάβρος ἐπαιγίζων ἐξ αἰθέρος, ὄφρα τάχιστα
νηῦς ἀνύσειε θέουσα θαλάσσης ἁλμυρὸν ὕδωρ.
ἄψορροι δὴ ἔπειτα πρὸς ἠῶ τʼ ἠέλιόν τε
ἔπλεον· ἡγεμόνευε δʼ ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων·
ἷξον δʼ ἐς Κρίσην εὐδείελον, ἀμπελόεσσαν,
ἐς λιμένʼ· ἣ δʼ ἀμάθοισιν ἐχρίμψατο ποντοπόρος νηῦς.
ἔνθʼ ἐκ νηὸς ὄρουσε ἄναξ ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων,
ἀστέρι εἰδόμενος μέσῳ ἤματι· τοῦ δʼ ἀπὸ πολλαὶ
σπινθαρίδες πωτῶντο, σέλας δʼ εἰς οὐρανὸν ἷκεν·
ἐς δʼ ἄδυτον κατέδυσε διὰ τριπόδων ἐριτίμων.
ἔνθʼ ἄρʼ ὅ γε φλόγα δαῖε πιφαυσκόμενος τὰ ἃ κῆλα·
πᾶσαν δὲ Κρίσην κάτεχεν σέλας· αἳ δʼ ὀλόλυξαν
Κρισαίων ἄλοχοι καλλίζωνοί τε θύγατρες
Φοίβου ὑπὸ ῥιπῆς· μέγα γὰρ δέος ἔμβαλʼ ἑκάστῳ.
ἔνθεν δʼ αὖτʼ ἐπὶ νῆα νόημʼ ὣς ἆλτο πέτεσθαι,
ἀνέρι εἰδόμενος αἰζηῷ τε κρατερῷ τε,
πρωθήβῃ, χαίτῃς εἰλυμένος εὐρέας ὤμους·
καί σφεας φωνήσας ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα·
ὦ ξεῖνοι, τίνες ἐστέ; πόθεν πλεῖθʼ ὑγρὰ κέλευθα;
ἤ τι κατὰ πρῆξιν ἢ μαψιδίως ἀλάλησθε
οἷά τε ληιστῆρες ὑπεὶρ ἅλα, τοί τʼ ἀλόωνται
ψυχὰς παρθέμενοι, κακὸν ἀλλοδαποῖσι φέροντες;
τίφθʼ οὕτως ἧσθον τετιηότες, οὐδʼ ἐπὶ γαῖαν
ἐκβῆτʼ, οὐδὲ καθʼ ὅπλα μελαίνης νηὸς ἔθεσθε;
αὕτη μέν γε δίκη πέλει ἀνδρῶν ἀλφηστάων,
ὁππότʼ ἂν ἐκ πόντοιο ποτὶ χθονὶ νηὶ μελαίνῃ
ἔλθωσιν καμάτῳ ἀδηκότες, αὐτίκα δέ σφεας
σίτοιο γλυκεροῖο περὶ φρένας ἵμερος αἱρεῖ.
ὣς φάτο καί σφιν θάρσος ἐνὶ στήθεσσιν ἔθηκε.
τὸν καὶ ἀμειβόμενος Κρητῶν ἀγὸς ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ξεῖνʼ, ἐπεὶ οὐ μὲν γάρ τι καταθνητοῖσι ἔοικας,
οὐ δέμας οὐδὲ φυήν, ἀλλʼ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσιν,
οὖλέ τε καὶ μέγα χαῖρε, θεοὶ δέ τοι ὄλβια δοῖεν.
καί μοι τοῦτʼ ἀγόρευσον ἐτήτυμον, ὄφρʼ εὖ εἰδῶ·
τίς δῆμος; τίς γαῖα; τίνες βροτοὶ ἐγγεγάασιν;
ἄλλῃ γὰρ φρονέοντες ἐπεπλέομεν μέγα λαῖτμα
ἐς Πύλον ἐκ Κρήτης, ἔνθεν γένος εὐχόμεθʼ εἶναι·
νῦν δʼ ὧδε ξὺν νηὶ κατήλθομεν οὔ τι ἑκόντες,
νόστου ἱέμενοι, ἄλλην ὁδόν, ἄλλα κέλευθα·
ἀλλά τις ἀθανάτων δεῦρʼ ἤγαγεν οὐκ ἐθέλοντας.
τοὺς δʼ ἀπαμειβόμενος προσέφη ἑκάεργος Ἀπόλλων·
ξεῖνοι, τοὶ Κνωσὸν πολυδένδρεον ἀμφενεμεσθε
τὸ πρίν, ἀτὰρ νῦν οὐκ ἔθʼ
ὑπότροποι αὖτις ἔσεσθε
ἔς τε πόλιν ἐρατὴν καὶ δώματα καλὰ ἕκαστος
ἔς τε
φίλας ἀλόχους· ἀλλʼ ἐνθάδε πίονα νηὸν
ἕξετʼ ἐμὸν πολλοῖσι τετιμένον
ἀνθρώποισιν.
εἰμὶ δʼ ἐγὼ Διὸς υἱός, Ἀπόλλων δʼ εὔχομαι εἶναι·
ὑμέας δʼ ἤγαγον ἐνθάδʼ ὑπὲρ μέγα λαῖμα θαλάσσης,
οὔ τι κακὰ φρονέων,
ἀλλʼ ἐνθάδε πίονα νηὸν
ἕξετʼ ἐμὸν πᾶσιν μάλα τίμιον ἀνθρώποισι,
βουλάς
τʼ ἀθανάτων εἰδήσετε, τῶν ἰότητι
αἰεὶ τιμήσεσθε διαμπερὲς ἤματα πάντα.
ἀλλʼ ἄγεθʼ, ὡς ἂν ἐγὼ εἴπω, πείθεσθε τάχιστα·
ἱστία μὲν πρῶτον κάθετον
λύσαντε βοείας,
νῆα δʼ ἔπειτα θοὴν μὲν ἐπʼ ἠπείρου ἐρύσασθε,
ἐκ δὲ
κτήμαθʼ ἕλεσθε καὶ ἔντεα νηὸς ἐίσης
καὶ βωμὸν ποιήσατʼ ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι
θαλάσσης·
πῦρ δʼ ἐπικαίοντες ἐπί τʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ θύοντες
εὔχεσθαι δὴ
ἔπειτα παριστάμενοι περὶ βωμόν.
ὡς μὲν ἐγὼ τὸ πρῶτον ἐν ἠεροειδέι πόντῳ
εἰδόμενος δελφῖνι θοῆς ἐπὶ νηὸς
ὄρουσα,
ὣς ἐμοὶ εὔχεσθαι Δελφινίῳ· αὐτὰρ ὁ βωμὸς
αὐτὸς Δελφίνιος
καὶ ἐπόψιος ἔσσεται αἰεί.
δειπνῆσαί τʼ ἄρʼ ἔπειτα θοῇ παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ
καὶ σπεῖσαι μακάρεσσι θεοῖς, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν σίτοιο
μελίφρονος ἐξ ἔρον ἧσθε,
ἔρχεσθαί θʼ ἅμʼ ἐμοὶ καὶ ἰηπαιήονʼ ἀείδειν,
εἰς ὅ κε χῶρον ἵκησθον, ἵνʼ ἕξετε πίονα νηόν.
ὣς ἔφαθʼ· οἳ δʼ ἄρα τοῦ μάλα μὲν κλύον ἠδʼ ἐπίθοντο.
ἱστία μὲν πρῶτον κάθεσαν, λῦσαν δὲ βοείας,
ἱστὸν δʼ ἱστοδόκῃ πέλασαν προτόνοισιν ὑφέντες·
ἐκ δὲ καὶ αὐτοὶ βαῖνον ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης.
ἐκ δʼ ἁλὸς ἤπειρόνδε θοὴν ἀνὰ νῆʼ ἐρύσαντο
ὑψοῦ ἐπὶ ψαμάθοις, ὑπὸ δʼ ἕρματα μακρὰ τάνυσσαν·
καὶ βωμὸν ποίησαν ἐπὶ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης·
πῦρ δʼ ἐπικαίοντες ἐπί τʼ ἄλφιτα λευκὰ θύοντες
εὔχονθʼ, ὡς ἐκέλευε, παριστάμενοι περὶ βωμόν.
δόρπον ἔπειθʼ εἵλοντο θοῇ παρὰ νηὶ μελαίνῃ
καὶ σπεῖσαν μακάρεσσι θεοῖς, οἳ Ὄλυμπον ἔχουσιν.
αὐτὰρ ἐπεὶ πόσιος καὶ ἐδητύος ἐξ ἔρον ἕντο,
βάν ῥʼ ἴμεν· ἦρχε δʼ ἄρα σφιν ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων,
φόρμιγγʼ ἐν χείρεσσιν ἔχων, ἐρατὸν κιθαρίζων,
καλὰ καὶ ὕψι βιβάς· οἳ δὲ ῥήσσοντες ἕποντο
Κρῆτες πρὸς Πυθὼ καὶ ἰηπαιήονʼ ἄειδον,
οἷοί τε Κρητῶν παιήονες, οἷσί τε Μοῦσα
ἐν στήθεσσιν ἔθηκε θεὰ μελίγηρυν ἀοιδήν.
ἄκμητοι δὲ λόφον προσέβαν ποσίν, αἶψα δʼ ἵκοντο
Παρνησὸν καὶ χῶρον ἐπήρατον, ἔνθʼ ἄρʼ ἔμελλον
οἰκήσειν πολλοῖσι τετιμένοι ἀνθρώποισι·
δεῖξε δʼ ἄγων ἄδυτον ζάθεον καὶ πίονα νηόν.
τῶν δʼ ὠρίνετο θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι φίλοισι·
τὸν καὶ ἀνειρόμενος Κρητῶν ἀγὸς ἀντίον ηὔδα·
ὦ ἄνα, εἰ δὴ τῆλε φίλων καὶ πατρίδος αἴης
ἤγαγες· οὕτω που τῷ σῷ φίλον ἔπλετο θυμῷ·
πῶς καὶ νῦν βιόμεσθα; τό σε φράζεσθαι ἄνωγμεν.
οὔτε τρυγηφόρος ἥδε γʼ ἐπήρατος οὔτʼ εὐλείμων,
ὥστʼ ἀπό τʼ εὖ ζώειν καὶ ἅμʼ ἀνθρώποισιν ὀπάζειν.
τοὺς δʼ ἐπιμειδήσας προσέφη Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων·
νήπιοι ἄνθρωποι, δυστλήμονες, οἳ μελεδῶνας
βούλεσθʼ ἀργαλέους τε πόνους καὶ στείνεα θυμῷ·
ῥηίδιον ἔπος ὔμμʼ ἐρέω καὶ ἐπὶ φρεσὶ θήσω,
δεξιτερῇ μάλʼ ἕκαστος ἔχων ἐν χειρὶ μάχαιραν,
σφάζειν αἰεὶ μῆλα· τὰ δʼ ἄφθονα πάντα παρέσται,
ὅσσα τʼ ἐμοί κʼ ἀγάγωσι περικλυτὰ φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων·
νηὸν δὲ προφύλαχθε, δέδεχθε δὲ φῦλʼ ἀνθρώπων
ἐνθάδʼ ἀγειρομένων καὶ ἐμὴν ἰθύν τε μάλιστα.
[δείκνυσθε θνητοῖσι· σὺ δὲ φρεσὶ δέξο θέμιστα.
ἠέ τι τηΰσιον ἔπος ἔσσεται ἠέ τι ἔργον
ὕβρις θʼ, ἣ θέμις ἐστὶ καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων,
ἄλλοι ἔπειθʼ ὑμῖν σημάντορες ἄνδρες ἔσονται,
τῶν ὑπʼ ἀναγκαίῃ δεδμήσεσθʼ ἤματα πάντα.
εἴρηταί τοι πάντα· σὺ δὲ φρεσὶ σῇσι φύλαξαι.
καὶ σὺ μὲν οὕτω χαῖρε, Διὸς καὶ Λητοῦς υἱέ·
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ καὶ σεῖο καὶ ἄλλης μνήσομʼ ἀοιδῆς.

Source Colophon

Source: Perseus Digital Library, canonical-greekLit repository, tlg0013.tlg003.perseus-grc2.xml. Greek text from Hugh G. Evelyn-White, Hesiod, the Homeric Hymns and Homerica (London: William Heinemann; New York: Macmillan, 1914). Loeb Classical Library. Licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States (CC BY-SA 3.0 US).

Repository: https://github.com/PerseusDL/canonical-greekLit

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