Hymn XVII: To Antinous Apollon, Lover

How many are your loves, Antinous Apollon,
and how many the stories with unhappy endings.
How often your beloveds shrink away in fear
or fall prey to jealous rivals; how often the light
of your regard turns mortals into plants.
Laurel and cypress and hyacinth bear testimony
to the terror your purity of love can inspire.
Yet to those who yield, you give joy and fruitfulness;
many are your sons by many mothers, and
how poor we would be without their gifts.
If you insist on loving us, father of Aristaios and
Asklepios, then make us worthy of your favor
and sensible of our worthiness in your sight.
O Antinous Apollon, if you approach us mortals,
be gentle; if we flee your light, do not pursue
too swiftly; if we hesitate between mortal and
immortal love, do not judge too harshly, for we
are as moths to your flame, dust motes in your
beams, herbs thrown onto the fire sweetly to burn.

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Hymn XVI: To Antinous Apollon, Navigator

With you is the light of day, O Antinous Apollon,
the light of music and poetry, the light of true prophecy,
the light of healing, all the light we need. In your light
we can walk a straight path, we can see our way clear,
we can reach our destination. Guide us, Antinous Apollon,
Navigator, guide us when the day is cloudy, when the rains
are falling, when the sun is setting; guide us, glorious Phoebus,
and do not forget us when the sun sets, when the night
has come, when the lyre is silent, when the lips are closed.
Be our light when there is no light, slayer of Python,
god of Delphi; be the light that shines from within.

Hymn XV: To Antinous Apollon, Liberator

Brightest of gods and fairest, purest of gods
and noblest, Antinous Apollon, far-shooter,
lyre-player, Muse-leader, health-giver,
you are the liberator because you are
the purifier, your rays shining through us
like lasers, searching and burning out
ill health, impurity, falsehood–temper
your light with warmth, your power with
compassion, python-killer, sybil-speaker,
lest you wound those who worship you
lest the cure exceed the disease.

Hymn VIII: To Antinous Apollon

You shoot from afar, but your aim is true,
Antinous Apollon, master of the hunt.
You speak from afar, but your words are true,
Antinous Apollon, giver of prophecy.
You sound the harp and the notes ring true,
Antinous Apollon, leader of the Muses.
Where your light shines, we can see what is true.
When you have spoken, we can hear what is true.
When you lead the dance, the harmony is true
between body and mind, soul and spirit, self and other.
Ever-shining one, brilliant by day or night,
let your light shine in me and through me;
let your voice sing in me and through me;
let your truth ring in me and through me, truly.