Works and Days Devotion, Day 24: The God of the Triennial Feast, The God of the Annual Feast, Silenos, Satyros and the Bacchia
Orphic Hymns translated by Apostolos N. Athanassakis (52, 53, 54)
To the God of the Triennial Feast
I call upon you, blessed, many-named and frenzied Bacchos, Bull-horned Nysian redeemer, god of the wine-press, conceived in fire. Nourished in the thigh, O Lord of the Cradle, You marshal torch-lit processions in the night, O filleted and thyrsus-shaking Eubouleus. Threefold is your nature and ineffable your rites, O secret offspring of Zeus. Primeval, Erikepaios, father and son of gods, You take raw flesh, and, sceptered, you lead into the madness of revel and dance In the frenzy of triennial feasts that bestow calm on us. You burst forth from the earth in a blaze O son of two mothers, And, horned and clad in fawnskin, you roam the mountains, O lord worshiped in annual feasts. Paian of the golden spear, nursling, decked with grapes, Bassaros, exulting in ivy, followed by many maidens Joyous and all-abounding, come, O blessed one to the initiates.
To the God of the Annual Feast
I call upon the Bacchos we worship annually, chthonic Dionysos, Who, together with the fair-tressed nymphs, is roused. In the sacred halls of Persephone he slumbers, And puts to sleep pure, Bacchic time every third year. When he himself stirs up the triennial revel again he sings a hymn, Accompanied by his fair-girdled nurses, And, as the seasons revolve he puts to sleep and wakes up the years. But, O blessed and fruit-giving Bacchos, O horned spirit of the unripe fruit, Come to this most sacred rite with the glow of joy on your face, Come all-abounding in fruit that is holy and perfect.
To Silenos, Satyros, and the Bacchia
Hear me Bacchos’ foster father and nurturer, by far the best of the Silenoi, Honored by all the gods and by mortal men in the same triennial feasts. Pure and honored marshal of pastoral band, Wakeful reveler and companion of the fair-girt nurses, Leader of the ivy-crowned Naiads and Bacchantes, Take all the Satyrs- half men, half beasts- and come howling to the Bacchic lord. With the Bacchantes escort the holy Lenean procession, In sacred litanies revealing torch-lit rites, Shouting, thyrsus-loving, finding calm in the revels.












