Caravaggio, Dionysos, in Bacchus (1596), Uffizi Gallery, Florence
Though slain by the thunderbolt's roar,
long-locked Semele lives on Olympus;
Athena loves her to bits, Father Zeus
even
more, and her ivy-crowned kid sends kisses.
--Pindar, Olympian 2: For Theron of Acragas on His Victory in the Chariot Race in the Seventy-Seventh Olympiad (476 BCE), 27–30*
Thebes is a dull town, dree
days there are, even for the
daughter of the king, Kadmos,
who taught you the ABC.
Oh, Dia! In the dark He treated me
okay!
Don’t expect too much of men,
you say?
He loved his Semele!
But on that dreary plain
I asked to know his name,
that it was no monster,
who’d knocked up Semele.
In thunder then,
sharp lightning,
rain in the dismal ditch
below the cold Kadmea,
swift fire swept me away
that droumy day.
Three months more were wanting,
three more months went by.
The infant from the ashes
He drew like a sword from his thigh.
And while my grave still smoldered
my boy came down to Hell
to fetch me to Olympus
where we and Pallas dwell.
Though Zeus did me wrong,
the ending’s happy: I’m Dionysos’ mom!
*Epigraph trans. Peter Dreyer.