At 'The Lenaea', in Athens, once Semele and I hath danced
The Wild Women rent The Bull of Dionysus into parts of nine
We oblated these portions to thee, Lady Semele
Nine Lunar Priestesses and I hath sang thus
From the hills of Boetia, from the ports of Euboea
To The Acropolis in Attica.....................thy name resounded
But alas........
The Feast is no more
Wast I the last Sacred King of thee?
Thy tears, in Selene`s Lunar Disc rain upon us
Hubris Zeus, so spleen, hath smote thee
In askance, at The Oak-King we gaze
For he of mind infirm, has so taken thy Thunderbolt
Deeming it his own
He hurled it unto thee
What cocophany!
Lady Semele, my love.....................taken from me
We of The Lunar Temple.................weep
As Dionysus now hides with Zeus The Iniquitous
Insipid fools
In thy soporific trance...............White Light of Truth
....................................shall fore`er recall
...................................those eloquent words once thee spake
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem