by Dionysos Thriambos
The heart of heaven beams forth life and bliss
As worlds are hidden in the serpent's coil.
The horns of mortal change, twixt which there is
A gate of love, are turned towards the soil.
Brood of the snake! Droop down your heads and shoot
Forth venom's ice into the steaming earth.
There germinates the secret branching root
That surfaces in green and vital birth
Of stems uplifting leaves and fragrant blooms.
The final fruits lie rotting on the ground;
And far beyond the tombs, the kings are crowned.