Antinous for Everybody

I worship a dead gay teenager and you can too

Archive for the tag “saturnalia”

Saturnalia (belatedly)

On the first day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A golden acorn for the golden age.

 

On the second day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A bale of hay in honor of Epona

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

 

On the third day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

 

On the fourth day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

 

On the fifth day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A bottle of wine for Antinous and Bacchus,

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

 

On the sixth day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A jar of honey, a dish of salt for the Lares Permarines,

A bottle of wine for Antinous and Bacchus,

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

 

On the seventh day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

Sweet beeswax candles for the Sigillaria,

A jar of honey, a dish of salt for the Lares Permarines,

A bottle of wine for Antinous and Bacchus,

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

msgfr-academic-ru-etruskischer-meister

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Saturnalia: Lares Permarines

On the sixth day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A jar of honey, a dish of salt for the Lares Permarines,

A bottle of wine for Antinous and Bacchus,

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

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Antinous Epiphanes

On the fifth day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A bottle of wine for Antinous and Bacchus,

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

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To Antinous Dionysus

Come, Antinous Dionysus! Antinous Epiphanes, come!

Come crowned with ivy and bring surcease of sorrow.

Come shaking and stamping your thyrsus and bring the joy of dance.

Come with amphorai of wine, with sweet grapes sprouting

from your wild curls, and bring laughter, intoxication, and release into sleep.

Come let us see you, let us hear you, be near you,

let us get close enough to touch you, embrace you and kiss you,

taste the wine of your mouth and smell the perfume of your hair.

O Antinous Dionysus, you may be kindly, you may be cruel,

you may be severe, you may be mirthful, but what you never are

is distant, and in your intimate closeness is my ecstasy.

Saturnalia

On the fourth day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

Four shining rings in honor of planet Saturn,

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

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Opalia

210px-livia_statueOn the third day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A horn of plenty in honor of the fruitful Ops,

A bale of hay in honor of Epona,

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

 

A commentary on the season

“Io Saturnalia,” a reflection on the festival from astrological, historical, and magical angles.

Eponalia

On the second day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends

A bale of hay in honor of Epona

And a golden acorn for the golden age.

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Io Saturnalia!

On the first day of Saturnalia I gave to all my friends
A golden acorn for the golden age.

msgfr-academic-ru-etruskischer-meister

Saturnalia: To the Mothers

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Mother is a place to rest, a warmth, a tuneless song.
Mother is a voice that cuts.
Mother is a lady in a blue veil, a blue robe.
Mother is a lady with a baby in her arms.
Mother is a grandmother fixing hot tea and cold cereal on a school morning
Mother is a grandmother putting my clothes near the radiator
Mother is a woman who sleeps late while I rise early
Mother is a woman who smokes and drinks coffee
Mother is a May Day procession dressed in white
Mother is an ivory statue of the Virgin and Child with a Gothic sway
Mother is a possibly heretical vierge ouvrante
Mother is the goddess Isis with baby Horus on her lap
Mother is an icon with stars on the Virgin’s brow and shoulders
Mother is a Middle Eastern woman wrapped in layers of veils and shawls
carrying her child away from danger, shielding it with her body
Mother is my mother’s mother’s mother, who died when I was one
Mother is my mother’s father’s mother, was her name Louisa?
Mother is my father’s mother Grace, his adoptive mother,
and his mother Clara, his birth mother, whose last name was Gunsales
Mother is the woman who bore my husband a child
who bore her second husband a child
Mother is my sister, who bore my niece
Mother is my niece, who has borne a son
Mother is a link in a chain, a cell in the umbilical cord
Mother is the land I walk on, the nourishing earth, the turning planet
Mother is the night sky, spangled with stars
the brightness of the stars
and the darkness between
the beginning
and the end

Saturnalia II: Eponalia

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All in grey my love comes riding
Lady goddess, mare and queen
Bird and hound and hare and horses
In her sacred train are seen

Now a woman sadly weeping
Now a stamping heated mare
Life and death are in her keeping
Sack and keys are in her care

Grain she gives to those who hunger
Guidance gives to those who stray
Wise are those who fear her anger
Happy those who bid her stay

Ave, Epona Regina
Rigantona, Mari Llwyd,
Macha, Demeter Despoina,
May we all your wrath avoid

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