posted February 03, 2009 11:42 PM
Awesome, mars! 
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Homeric Hymn To Athena #11
I celebrate the powers of Pallas Athena, the protectress of the city:
Dread, as Ares, She busies herself with the works of war,
With the sack of cities, with the battle-cry and with the combats.
It is She also who saves the fighters that go to war and come back alive.
Hail, Goddess, give us good fortune and happiness!
Homeric Hymn to Athena #28
I begin to sing of Pallas Athena, the glorious Goddess, bright-eyed,
inventive, unbending of heart,
pure virgin, saviour of cities,
courageous, Tritogeneia. Wise Zeus himself bare her
from his awful head, arrayed in warlike arms
of flashing gold, and awe seized all the gods as they gazed.
But Athena sprang quickly from the immortal head
and stood before Zeus who holds the aegis,
shaking a sharp spear: great Olympus began to reel horribly
at the might of the bright-eyed Goddess,
and earth round about cried fearfully,
and the sea was moved and tossed with dark waves,
while foam burst forth suddenly:
the bright Son of Hyperion stopped his swift-footed horses a long while, until the maiden Pallas Athena had stripped the heavenly armour from her immortal shoulders.
And wise Zeus was glad.
And so hail to you, daughter of Zeus who holds the aegis!
Now I will remember you and another song as well
Proclus' Hymn To Athena
Proclus (c. 412-485 CE) was the last of the great Neoplatonic philosophers. His hymns comprise the final and most sophisticated expression of the old polytheistic spirituality of Greece and Rome. He was especially dedicated to Athena, the goddess of wisdom and craft, who also symbolized for the Greco-Roman world something very similar to what the Buddhists refer to as upaya or 'skillful means.' This hymn presents both the most vivid classical portrait of Athena and the most polished example of Roman pagan hymnody imaginable.
Hearken to me, child of aegis-bearing Zeus, sprung forth
from the paternal source and from the top of your series,
male-spirited, shield-bearing, of great strength, from a mighty sire,
Pallas, Tritogeneia, lance-brandisher, golden-helmeted,
hearken; accept this hymn, mistress, with a kind spirit,
do not just leave my words at the mercy of the winds,
you, who opened the gates of wisdom trodden by the gods,
and overcame the tribe of the earthly Giants which fought the gods;
you, who guarded the unconquerable girdle of your virginity
by fleeing the desire of the amorous Hephaistos;
you, who saved the heart, as yet unchopped,
of lord Bacchus in the vault of heaven, when he was once divided up
by the hands of the Titans, and brought it to his father,
in order that, through the ineffable wishes of his begetter,
a new Dionysus would grow again from Semele around the cosmos;
your axe, by cutting off at the roots the heads of all-seeing Hecate's
animals of passions, put asleep the process of becoming;
you, who loved the revered power of the mortal-awaking virtues;
you, who adorned our whole life with many kinds of skills
by casting noeric craftsmanship into souls;
you, who obtained the Acropolis on the high-crested hill,
a symbol, mistress, of the top of your great series;
you who loved the man-feeding land, mother of books,
strongly resisting the holy desire of your father's brother,
and granted the city to have your name and noble mind—
there, under the top edge of the mountain, you made an olive-tree
sprout up as manifest sign of that battle for posterity too,
when an immense gulf stirred up from the sea
came upon the children of Cecrops, directed by Poseidon,
lashing all things with its loud-roaring streams.
Hearken to me you, from whose face flashes forth holy light.
Give me, as I am roaming around the earth, a blessed harbor,
give my soul holy light from your sacred myths,
and wisdom, and love. Breathe into my love
a power so great and of such a kind that it pulls me up back again
from the vaults of matter to Olympus, into the abode of your father.
And if some grievous error in my life overpowers me
—for I know how I am buffeted by many and various unholy actions
from different sides, offenses which I committed with a foolish spirit—
be gracious, mild-counselling goddess, preserver of mortals
do not let me become prey and spoil for the horrible Punishments
lying on the ground, since I profess to belong to you.
Give steady and propitious health to my limbs,
and drive the herds of bitter, flesh-wasting illnesses away,
yes, I beg you, my queen, and stop with your immortal hand
the entire misery of black pains.
Give calm winds to the voyage of my life,
children, a spouse, fame, happiness, lovely joy,
persuasion, conversations with friends, nimble wit,
power against my enemies, a place of prominence among the people.
Hearken, hearken, mistress. I come to you in deep supplication,
through pressing necessity. And you, lend me a gentle ear.
http://www.goddess-athena.org/Encyclopedia/Friends/Proclus/index.htm
Lindaland
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posted February 03, 2009 10:01 PM
posted February 04, 2009 09:06 AM
In my Natal Chart:
posted November 09, 2018 11:32 AM
posted October 24, 2019 02:08 PM