Apollo, to you, of you

Apollo,
Beam of music and dance,
Sound of the universe,
You who cross the skies,
Melody of Olympus,
I call.

Paian,
Trance of healing and chaos,
Creator of unseen beauty,
You who command the mind,
Destroyer of light and shadow,
I praise.

Phoebus,
Light of the stars and suns,
Fame of voice and body divine,
You who outdo all,
Whisper of wisdom and oracles,
I worship.

And to you,
Archer of plagues and blessings,
Wizard and Shaman of Gods,
To you who work from afar,
Orb of infinity and nothingness,
I offer this prayer.

Apollo is home!

Heed him! Do you not see?
Do you not recognize the light
Pouring from the windows
Like a violent stream?

Heed him! Do you not feel?
Do you not smell the golden perfume,
Isn't an ever burning flame
Inside you dancing?

Ah, ripples in the lake,
The palm trees waving;
How can't you recognize him
In the wind that blows doors apart?

Away evil! Out with miasma,
Cleanse your soul,
For the ground noisily trembling
Announces the Lord has come!

Golden! All is gold;
Feel the wind in your face,
Open your temple houses,
For Apollo is home!

See the flames stirring,
Listen to the sweet sound of the bow
And sing Ie, Ie Paion!
It is him who comes singing!
Ie, Ie Paion!
See him coming fair and pure
And all together do sing
In your houses and altars
Ie, Ie Paion!
Welcome Lord!
Welcome Apollo!


Poem I wrote to invoke Apollo at the begging of mystic rituals concerning His being (namely my Kyklos Apollon Ritual) and the revival of His cult. The poem is inspired in what I consider to be one of the most beautiful hymns and certainly the best to call for Apollo, though I am a little biased because it was when I called for Apollo with this hymn that I first felt him answer and fell Him by my side and inside me. I speak of the first lines of Callimachus Hymn to Apollo:

How Apollo's laurel sapling shakes!
How the whole temple shakes! Away, away with the wicked!
It must be Phoebus kicking at the door with his fair foot.
Do you not see? The Delian palm nods gently,
All of a sudden; the swan sings beautifully in the air.
Bolts of the doors, thrust yourselves back.
Keys - open the doors! For the God is no longer far away.

I especially like the last "Keys - open the doors! For the God is no longer far away." It fills me with awe and seems so very fit to the revival of an Ancient religion!

PS: the translation is found in Kerenyi's Apollo - The Wind, the Spirit and the God and I don't know who is the translator

Apollo and Daphne

Muses of the divine Olympus, Goddess whose braids are crowned with violets and whose lyres and thousand arts mesmerize the Gods and inspire the mortals, daughters of Mnemosine, I beg you inspire me to sing of the golden archer who strikes form afar, Lord of Delphi and Delos, Apollo of the lyre.

Great is his power, when he shines like the day in the house of the immortals and plays his magical lyre, entrancing the Gods like no other, inspiring them the sweet sleep and heavy reflection. But he can also excite the heart and electrify the soul with his tunes, inspiring movement and dynamic to the Gods who soon rise from their seats to enjoy the dances of Artemis and the Kharites.

And when the feasts are over is power does not end. Then he descends to the earth and cleans all that is too much, the great Alexikakos, purifying us from our core so that we may be pure and thus may worship the Gods not fearing they won’t respond for repugnance of our miasma.

It was on one of these days, when he walked in the earth, a laugh like the song of a thousand birds, a freshness of the chastest spring radiating from his golden hair, the splendour of his being astonishing all creatures, that he was seen by the young Eros, the trickster, who soon armed himself.

He watched the God and the nymph who sang in the woods hugging the trees and worshiping Ge, our Great mother, and soon his heart filled with dark plans, for Apollo had won him in competition. Eros grabbed his feared and loved quiver and from it took two arrows: with one, golden and lilac, fair as the flowers, he shot the God who instantly fell in love for Daphne; the other, dark as Tartarus, he aimed without failing to the innocent nymph, whose heart filled with disgust for the one who now loved her.

Apollo immediately ran chasing the nymph, like hunter and prey, unwearyingly trying to gain her affection, but the nymph always repudiated him and ran away. Until one day, desperate with the strength of Apollo’s love, she asked the Great Mother for help. And thus from her fingers spring perfumed leaves, thus reaching her arms towards the skies branches they become, with her feet set in the earth they pierce it and her eyes become beautiful berries.

Greatly Apollo grieved in his heart, for love did not abandon his heart, like hate did from Daphne’s, for it is not correct that a tree hates. And so the God gently picked a few branches from the mighty tree and with them made a crown which now graces his hair. And ever since he declared the bay, Daphne’s tree, his most sacred plant, and instituted that it shall represent him on earth.

And hence we use laurel leaves to purify and sweep the temples, and hence we grace our winners with bay branches and offer the perfumed leaves to the great Golden God.

May you be favourable towards us, Apollo, and may we please you with simple rites and words. Ie, Apollon!

Noumenia Hymn

An Hymn to read during the Noumenia in honour of all the Gods and in the context of Neokoroi.

Noumenia Hymn to All the Gods

A new month begins and we, the neokoroi, again join to worship the immortal Gods and request their aid in re-establishing their cult. Hear, athanatoi, while I praise you and sing of you in this new month, after cleaning your shrines and lighting the perfumed incense in your honour.

First Hestia, Goddess of the hearth so calm and gentle, the One who comforts us, always the first, always the last, as the law commands, may your fires burn once again in lovely temples inside each of us and outside as well.

Then Apollon, the God to whom I sing and whom I praise with greatest enthusiasm, the Lord, guide of light in the darkness, with his bow of fair heart-calming music he soothes the thunder and with his lyre of lethal arrows the God tremble before him, may your oracles guide us once more and help us, may our actions fit the words you inspire in an ever-flowing stream.

And then Selene the Moon, who now slowly unveils her face and greets us, mere mortals, again with her silvery beauty, the Goddess for whom the shepherds’ heart long as they gaze the starry sky, the one who stands among the stars, may you look down and see us, your worshipers, once more singing and celebrating the Immortal Ones.

And to the Agathos Daimon as well, the gorgeous heavenly spirit, may you possess us always, may our actions be righteous reflexes of your guidelines and mirrored images of your unspeakable brothers, great serpent and youth of the vine.

And now, Muses of fair braids and crowned with violets, maidens of infinite art, lend me a piece of your grace to honour all the Gods, and may my words please the voice no man can resist as well.

So I sing of the Olympians, father Zeus who rules all: Zeus that was, Zeus that is, Zeus who will be, Zeus who is all, Zeus who is nothing, the voice of thunder and wind; and Hera of the divine throne, whose beauty entrances even the most powerful of Gods, perfect, Teleia, heavenly bride who guides us with the strength of your spirit; and to Poseidon too, who rules the seas and also the fertility of the land, shaker of the earth with his feared trident, ancient and venerable God; and Demeter, sister of Zeus, of golden hair like the cereals, the one who feeds us with care, eternal mother for us, even after such great sufferings her heart bearded. May the brothers and sister I already sang of and also the other, the terrible, the unseen, the venerable Hades, Lord who rules over our souls for ever, help us and be please with the offerings we offer with our heart, may their temples again be filled with perfume and the sweet taste of everflowing libations.

And also Aphrodite is a righteous Olympian, Goddess who amazes mortals and immortals alike, with an irresistible smile, whose web of Eros, her winged son, no one can oppose, feared and love with an equal measure is this pair. To she who walks with the Kharites, powerful Goddesses who decide what a man shall have and shall not, beauty, wisdom, character; and to all her power we sing.

And Hephaistos, noble artisan, a God who does not refuse work or arts, lord of the anvil who teaches to persist and to labour, great immortal who is in Olympus by merit and not just by birth, as is common and right to such superior beings, great artisan of lovely arts, may our rude craft please you.

And Ares too, who bears so much, tough God and teacher for Man, may we understand the valour of strife and bravery, give us strength to stand steady and face all obstacles. Keep Eris by your side, ride Phobos and Deimos away from us, so that you may enjoy with them our songs.

And Artemis, Goddess so charming as she dances and laughs through the mountains, and the beautiful Nymphs who dance with her, all spirits of Nature and the Great mother Gaia, all of them we worship and with all of the the Great Artemis rejoice, a terrible Goddess of love and agony, nurturing Goddess of children and brides, may your vitality inspire us and may we be free to worship you! And to Leto as well, you mother and of the divine Phoebus, we worship in our heats.

Athena too, of the sparkling eyes shining in the night, who whispers wise advices at her heroes hears, Goddess who weaves strategies like no one and with tools relieves our labours, may you guide us, the neokoroi, with words of wisdom and divine counsel.

And the blissful Dionysus who worship, God of enthousiasmos who allows us to understand a tinny spot of the immortal aspect, who dances with his satyrs and maenads, great is our wonder and our heart burns with praise when the divine pompé walks by, crown with the God of ivy, may rivers of wine flow in your honour once more and our minds become obscure and our spirits filled with divine ecstasy. And may our heart sing of your mother Semele and your lovely Ariadne.

And to Hermes, winged God swift as no other, great Angelos and guide, may your messages reach us loud and clear and may you guide us in the way of the neokoros, you who guide even the dead, who transpose all we thought unbreakable, who shake the world and give all that is dynamic, and to your great mother Maia.

And also to those who inhabit the dark ends of the world, their king the horrifying Hades, their queen the awful Persephone for whom our hearts rejoice in spring and mourn in winter, Goddess of great forgiving heart, and also to the Styx, great oath of the Gods, Kharon, to whom we own a dark trip, and to all the beings I dare not name. To all of you I praise and also to Hekate, endowed with power over all that exists in our material world, who commands the skies, the earth and the seas with magic of her unseen hand, triple Goddess of road crosses and night.

And those deities that rejoice in the Earth, the Nymphs and the Satyrs, also Eos who shreds the mists, pink Goddess who loves her brother Helios, of the golden chariot, whom brings Hemera and carries Hiperion, great Gods whom we love. And to all the rivers and seas, all the mountains and trees, the caves that hide beneath the earth, the springs and wells, the lakes, clouds, stars, the rain and the land, prairies, swamps, oceans, the frozen fields of the peaks, the hills and cliffs, beaches and deserts and all that is and was I praise. And to Pan with his flute, who rejoices in fields with herds running in panic, and the Anemoi who always run.

And to Themis, divine order whom all weights and pounders; and her daugheters, the Horai, Goddess of the just and righteous measurem, Eunomia, who does all in the right order, Eirine, of whom we sing hymns and to whom we praise, and Dike, whom so many offend; but Zeus lets no man offend the daughters of Themis for long, harshly punishing any who does. And to Metis, eternal wisdom, Thetys, a name of water, leader of the Nereids and also Tethys, source of water. And surely to the great Ocean who embraces all.

And to the Moiroi who impose the limits and weave endlessly, to Nemesis who is terrible to the enemies of the divine order, as well as to the Eumenids, whom the wrong-doer fears greatly. To Nix, the awful night without end, to Khronos, who eats all and has no mercy, to Tartarus, dark place of the great offenders. To Ananke of whom none escapes we also praise, and to Khaos, who was first.

And also to Rhea, great Mother, Ouranos, father Sky, and to Kybele, to the Titans favoured by the immortal one and to those that, yet inferior to the Gods, are terribly superior to the strongest of Man. To the Kabeiroi, the Koribants, Kouretes, Dione, Bendis, Zagreus, to all the beings that are companions of the Gods, to Hebe, who serves the divine nectar, to Iris, who carries their messages, blissful bridge from heaven to hearth, Eileithya for whom the women yell, to Priapos, who suffers a curse and still blesses us, to Prometheus, who endured a great pain and nurtures us, to Nike, the sweet victory, may all Gods and Goddesses be pleased and bless us.

And also to Tyche, whose power is great, the Goddess who decides what each man and woman will have and not have, the Goddess who gives and takes away, great is the power Zeus gifted you and great are our praises.

And to the Gods who already experience our mortal suffering, my dear Asklepios, great father of Medicine who relieves the terrible pain, may you teach us and bring with you your lovely daughter Hygia; to Herakles, great inspiration to us all, you who bearded so much and gained the hug and breast of Hera, whom taught you in the harshest way; to the protecting Dioscuroi, their sister, the fair Helen, Ganymedes who was taken, Adonis who was loved, and also to all heroes of all the world, to the dead ones – to all of them, ancestral creators of what we are today.

May I delight all the divine beings, and also those I didn’t mentioned, hoping not to offend any of you and hoping to have pleased you.

And again I praise you, maidens of violet braids, with lyres and arts, and to your mother Mnemosine, I praise and thank you for inspiring me in this hymn to the Gods!

And, as is fit, again of Hestia, the first and the last, I sing.

Asklepios Ascends

And now the hymn to Asklepios for that same thanksgiving. (I have also made and hymn to Aphrodite and Hermes for the same ritual, but this is no place for them, you can read them inmy livejournal, Writing Temple).

There is a God, who once was less,
But still he would relief our pains,
Still he would teach us and aid us,
And even still he could break death.

Dazzling was his father,
But he was a splendorous man,
A wise, bright and selfless man.
But alas, Ananke must never be broken,
And death is not to be reversed:
Slowed down, fooled, stoped,
Never reversed.

And a powerful thunder,
A great bean of divine energy,
Came down from the skies…
Oh, why haven’t you foreseen this?
You, father who cried tears of amber,
Who can foresee all there is to come,
And who knows all there is and was…
And we lost a great man.

But Zeus is not blind to our prayers
And the same energy that destroys
Can also create and bestow eternity.
And so it was that Asklepios,
Great helper and reliever,
Became a God, a much loved God.

To you I sing this hymn;
I thank your for your blessings
And ask that you continue to watch over me,
And stay by my side, close to me,
With your perfumed haired daughter.

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!

The Dark Singer

*Some parts of this hymn may be shocking for some people. Please don't read if you are easily impressed (and also if you don't want to learn or come in contact with the dark side of the Gods)*

*Warning Made, enjoy*

Darkness covers the skies
And only your dark gloom shines,
The distance of your eyes amazes
And only frightened we may approach.

Fools we are, mere instants
Whom laugh and sing and dance.
But distant you gaze and shoot,
Your arrows made with pain and sorrow,
Your skin covered in the blood of youngsters,
Your truth so terrifying and lethal.

And you sing and laugh with pureness,
You dance among the piled bodies,
So pure as death, so clear as emptiness,
Your voice commands Thanathos
And the powers of shadow are yours,
For only you can withdraw light.

And we tremble before the dark side,
You who truthfully give us Dionysus,
Whom is both happiness of drunkenness
And the dark myst of death,
For we are fool and cannot see the balance,
How the body must fall and blood be spilled
So our truth self, the divine offered by the Gods,
Whom is both dark and light,
May be released and meet in ecstasy
With the Gods below.

And so you continue to laugh
With a voice that stops our hearts,
You remain in your eternal song
Of death and void beyond our comprehension,
Eternally you dance in the pool of blood.
Oh, so Dark and Plagueful,
Great Apollo, whom strikes from afar!

Apollo the Purifier

Dark as the night you come with your light
Shining upon the world, in your hand the bow
In your eyes so pure the truth of ages to come
From your mouth song flows like a stream
From you skin a perfume of a thousand flowers
And in your hands a golden sword dances.

Lord of the darkness within and without
Great power, with your being of shining light
Disperse the mists of doom and evil.

As you come from the land of the warm sun
All untruth and impure trembles before you
And the whole world shines with you radiance.
With your sword of golden waters and fire,
With your bow which strikes from afar
You fight the serpent of chaos and undoing.
With your eyes which gaze across the time,
With your hands of perfect works
You honour the serpent of origins and mind.

For only you other than Zeus are called Moiragetes,
Only you can read the mind of even the Great King,
Only you can see beyond the being and the mists
And tell the truth from lies. Teach us with your balance.

We who are impure stand before your might
And wonder fills our hearts and our eyes sparkle.
And with your soft hands you touch our forehead
And your light enters our being:
All that was me becomes yours,
All I thought I controlled slips through my hands
In the rape of your golden touch.
But as the sudden bright fills our soul
We become one with ourselves,
We are aware of the divine Ananke
Which permeates our existence.

Divine Apollo Purifier,
I ask you bless your followers
And dispel all evil and darkness
Which is too much from us.
Hail, Great Phoibos!