#sethre

In the tranquility of a garden, a fountain sings

My Soul, my Soul, all disturbed by sorrows inconsolable, Bear up, hold out, meet front-on the many foes that rush on you Now from this side and now that, enduring all such strife up close, Never wavering; and should you win, don't openly exult, Nor, defeated, throw yourself lamenting in a heap at home, But delight in things that are delightful and, in hard times, grieve Not too much – appreciate the rhythm that controls men's lives.

Archilochus (c. 680–645 BCE) , fragment 128

(French version : HERE)

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Harvest in the heat of the sun (2)

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1). 87 notes - Feb 26 2020

2). 38 notes - Aug 27 2020

3). 37 notes - Jan 8 2020

4). 36 notes - Jan 4 2020

5). 31 notes - Aug 15 2020

6). 31 notes - Jan 19 2020

7). 30 notes - Apr 16 2020

8). 29 notes - Aug 23 2020

9). 29 notes - Apr 26 2020

10). 28 notes - Aug 21 2020

Harvest in the heat of the sun (3/3)

(French version : HERE)

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Harvest in the heat of the sun (1)

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Stolen moments from the Parcae (3)

Daughters of darkling Night, much-named, draw near infinite Fates, and listen to my prayer; Who in the heavenly lake where waters white burst from a fountain hid in depths of night, From whence your power extends to those of mortal birth To men with hope elated, trifling, gay, a race presumptuous, born but to decay; For Fate alone with vision unconfined, surveys the conduct of the mortal kind. Fate is Jove's perfect and eternal eye, for Jove and Fate our every deed descry. Come, gentle powers, well born, benignant, famed, Morta, Decima, and Nona named: Unchanged, aerial, wandering in the night, restless, invisible to mortal fight; Fates all-producing all-destroying hear, regard the incense and the holy prayer; Propitious listen to these rites inclined, and far avert distress with placid mind.

ORPHIC HYMNS -  LVIII. TO THE FATES

(French version : HERE)

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