Hessiod: Works and Days 1-34

Translated by David Lindstrom

Let us begin to sing of the muses of Helicon first who have and inhabit their shrine on that large and numinous mountain. Furthermore round some spring that is violet-colored on tender feet they are dancing or round the altar of Zeus the almighty, bathing their delicate skin in the spring of Permessus or in the spring of the horse or of sacred Olmeius, they often create their lovely and beautiful dances on top of mt helicon's summit.  Thence they arise and they go forth wholly enveloped in darkness, walking abroad in the night, projecting their beautiful voices, singing of Zeus who sustains the aegis and reverend Hera, lady of Argos;--wherever she wanders her sandals are golden-- hymning the daughter of Zeus who carries the aegis, Athena with grey eyes, and apollo and Artemis lover of arrows, also Poseidon who holds the earth and occasionally shakes it, reverend themis and coy Aphrodite who glances askance, too, beautiful Hebe whose garland is gold and lovely Dione, Leto, Iapetus, also Kronos whose counsel is crooked, dawn, the magnificent sun, and the moon with her radiant visage, earth and the might of the ocean, and night who personifies blackness, all of the sacred race of immortals enduring forever.  Such are the goddesses who taught Hesiod beautiful songs once while he was shepherding lambs in the shadow of helicon's holy mountain, and these were the very first words they uttered to me, those nymphs of Olympus, the daughters of Zeus who carries the aegis. “Wilderness shepherds, ignoble excuses for men, merely bellies. We are accustomed to tell many lies that resemble the facts, and we are accustomed to speak, when we wish to, the literal truth, too.” So the articulate daughters of Zeus the magnificent spoke, and gave me a staff, a sprout they had plucked of the vigorous laurel: it was a marvelous thing. They inspired me with vocal, prophetic song, to enunciate matters to come and others that have been. Me they commanded to sing of the race of the blessed immortals, hymning themselves at beginning and end of every poem.