Dark Darter, Bright Archer

Like I said, I need to make a ritual of thanksgiving to Apollo, here is the only English poem I wrote for that occasion (the others will be in Portuguese), Dark Darter, Bright Archer:


The sun rests once more
In the land beyond the world
Where a dark temple of gloom
Houses the darkest light.

In the quiet sounds of night
A shadow moves terribly,
All Gods tremble as he goes,
Soft and dreadful as a panther,
All creatures hide in terror
At the sound of the plague arrows
Clashing against the golden quiver.

And our hearts shiver
At the sound of the dark laugh,
When the Lord draws an arrow
And points His terrible bow.
A dark dart crosses the skies
And we fall like leaves from trees.

But He is sweeter than the work of bees,
And soon the sun is born again,
The night turns to day
And pink-fingered Eos smiles.
Then, the Lord descends once more
Laughing like a lovely song
Singing and dancing,
All Gods rise from their seats and dance,
All creatures rejoice and greet Him,
And the birds sing, both the swans and sparrows.

And again he darts, with golden arrows,
All troubles are relieved, all pain suppressed,
Light fills us and all is clear and soft;
No more desperate, no longer darker.

And again the night, the dark darter,
Again the day, the bright archer,
Dark darter, bright archer,
Again and again.
Apollon, I thank you for your gifts,
Gifts darker than the absence of light,
Gifts brighter than a thousand days,

And As this worshiper prays,
May the words please you
And may we meet again
In joyful celebration of your being!