Epode V
The young poet evokes the divine mother
with her nine daughters to come
forth and gift today’s troglodyte
with patience and steadfastness,
to grace him with Terpsichore’s
refined movements with Erato’s
unblemished lust, Urania’s wisdom
of the Heavens, Euterpe’s lyric poetry.
Oh, great mother of art, grant this man the
ability to express the whole with the
trembling steps of the beginner transcend him
from his ego, purge him from his deeply
imposed fears, grace him with the light
of Logos, gift of your nine daughters,
and let its freshness embrace him like
a sweet breeze in the cloudless purple dusk.
Let his stanzas speak of love and
his songs talk of laughter, let his
azure dreams dance in the expanse of
the firmament and let his freedom turn
to a beacon for the other faces in the mirror.
Manolis Aligizakis 