Bacchae

1Chorus Blessed is he who, being fortunate and knowing the rites of the gods, keeps his life pure and has his soul initiated into the Bacchic revels, dancing in inspired frenzy over the mountains with holy purifications, and who, revering the mysteries of great mother Kybele, brandishing the thyrsos, garlanded with ivy, serves Dionysus. Go, Bacchae, go, Bacchae, escorting the god Bromius, child of a god, from the Phrygian mountains to the broad streets of Hellas—Bromius,

1Chorus Whom once, in the compulsion of birth pains, the thunder of Zeus flying upon her, his mother cast from her womb, leaving life by the stroke of a thunderbolt. Immediately Zeus, Kronos’ son, received him in a chamber fit for birth, and having covered him in his thigh shut him up with golden clasps, hidden from Hera. And he brought forth, when the Fates had perfected him, the bull-horned god, and he crowned him with crowns of snakes, for which reason Maenads cloak their wild prey over their locks.

2Chorus O Thebes, nurse of Semele, crown yourself with ivy, flourish, flourish with the verdant yew bearing sweet fruit, and crown yourself in honor of Bacchus with branches of oak or pine. Adorn your garments of spotted fawn-skin with fleeces of white sheep, and sport in holy games with insolent thyrsoi†. At once all the earth will dance— whoever leads the sacred band is Bromius—to the mountain, to the mountain, where the crowd of women waits, goaded away from their weaving by Dionysus.

2Chorus O secret chamber of the Kouretes and you holy Cretan caves, parents to Zeus, where the Korybantes with triple helmet invented for me in their caves this circle, covered with stretched hide; and in their excited revelry they mingled it with the sweet-voiced breath of Phrygian pipes and handed it over to mother Rhea, resounding with the sweet songs of the Bacchae; nearby, raving Satyrs were fulfilling the rites of the mother goddess, and they joined it to the dances of the biennial festivals, in which Dionysus rejoices.

1Chorus Holiness, queen of the gods, Holiness, who bear your golden wings along the earth, do you hear these words from Pentheus? Do you hear his unholy insolence against Bromius, the child of Semele, the first deity of the gods at the banquets where guests wear beautiful garlands? He holds this office, to join in dances, to laugh with the flute, and to bring an end to cares, whenever the delight of the grape comes at the feasts of the gods, and in ivy-bearing banquets the goblet sheds sleep over men.

1Chorus Misfortune is the result of unbridled mouths and lawless folly; but the life of quiet and wisdom remain unshaken and hold houses together. Though they dwell far off in the heavens the gods see the deeds of mortals. But cleverness is not wisdom, nor is thinking on things unfit for mortals. Life is short, and on this account the one who pursues great things does not achieve that which is present. In my opinion, these are the ways of mad and ill-advised men.

2Chorus Would that I could go to Cyprus, the island of Aphrodite, where the Loves, who soothe mortals’ hearts, dwell, and to Paphos, fertilized without rain by the streams of a foreign river flowing with a hundred mouths. Lead me there, Bromius, Bromius, god of joy who leads the Bacchae, to Pieria, beautiful seat of the Muses, the holy slope of Olympus. There are the Graces, there is Desire; there it is lawful for the Bacchae to celebrate their rites.

2Chorus The god, the son of Zeus, delights in banquets, and loves Peace, giver of riches, goddess who nourishes youths. To the blessed and to the less fortunate, he gives an equal pleasure from wine that banishes grief. He hates the one who does not care about this: to lead a happy life by day and friendly†night and to keep his wise mind and intellect away from over-curious men. What the common people think and adopt, that would I accept.