Angeliki Of Perrhaebia E-Book

Patrice Martinez

• Herausgeber: Patrice Martinez
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

Angeliki Of Perrhaebia

Leseprobe

Angeliki of Perrhaebia

Patrice Martinez

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Translated by E.S. Dempsey 

“Angeliki of Perrhaebia”

Written By Patrice Martinez

Copyright © 2016 Patrice Martinez

All rights reserved

Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

www.babelcube.com

Translated by E.S. Dempsey

“Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Angeliki of Perrhaebia

Sources

Phanès

Angeliki of Perrhaebia

A Short Story

About Mysterious Perrhaebia

by Patrice Martinez

Translated by E.S. Dempsey

Phanès-éditions

ISBN : 979-10-91877-35-0

Illustration: Jules Breton – Summer – 1891

Copyright © May 2016 Second edition of Phanès-éditions

by Patrice Martinez

1 allée des Monts d'Olmes 31770 Colomiers FRANCE

The sun chariot’s shield covered the summits of Mounts Ossa and Pelion in the Levant. Helios had torn these peaks from the belly of Gaia, the Earth, to offer a bloodstained libation to dark Hades, Lord of the Underworld.

The dense foliage of Perrhaebia extended a purpurin shroud over ancient Thessaly. A breeze from Euros[i] brought salty coolness from the Aegean Sea, depositing a veil of moisture on the tormented skin of the old goddess of the Earth, Ghé.

My name was Angeliki, a child from the land of Argos and Sicyon. I had a dark complexion with the black eyes of a Hecate and skin hardened by the winds of the region. The arc of my eyebrows bridged the temples of my forehead, making a bony relief of raised arches, perhaps to confirm the rolling hills of this rough country.

I was about to pass my 15th spring and I knew all about the scene that unfolded before my eyes. With my finger I could sketch for you the topography of the land, either the banks of the river Titaresios or along the river Peneus, meandering shoulder to shoulder with the black soil tilled by the farmer’s plow.

I didn’t have sensuous lips like the bourgeois or aristrocratic daughters from Athens, but my mouth could savor the tart, pungent and spicy flavors of the dishes created by my mother. And my eyes enjoyed the many earthly pleasures that dotted the fertile soil of the Vale of Tempe. I watched over the herd and let my dog Ouranos round up the rebellious goats.

The trail of the pasture went round an outer wall of tall conifers, leaving space for frail rafts of scrub that had been deformed by Euros’ winds. I paused and caressed the first branch within my reach while I scanned the plateau of Perrhaebia spread out at my feet, a vast natural amphitheater enclosed by the hills of the Transfiguration. There were mountains behind mountains, their summits exposing a belly deformed by the Titans. Ouranos barked and disturbed my Pelasgian shepherd’s daydreams. Starting off again, I only had to cross the pass to get to the fertile slopes of the sacred highlands.

Hyperion progressed towards his zenith and lowered for a time Nyx’s dark veil of night. Already the earlier heat of day fell from giant Olympus, draped with a snowy mantle. The herd was feasting on salty green shoots covering the southern face of the mountain. Just as the cows of Epirus provided an amphora and a half of good milk from each teat, the goats and sheep produced a feta that was ambrosia for the Lord of Heaven.

My life flowed tranquilly, far from the conflicts of existence that reigned in every Hellenic polis[ii] located on the same rock. I admired my lively Hound of Epirus, a noble animal that never failed to return a stubborn goat to the herd, and would even chew off a leg to bring it back to its senses.

Phaethon’s chariot began to descend towards the western ponant, tracing its downward curve to the dark house of Hades. The shadows were progressing slowly and devouring the tortured terrain of the Olympian massif. A roar shook the region; I turned and watched as the dwelling of the Lord of the Immortals was wrapped in a dark scarf of clouds. The goddess Néphélé[iii] was hiding the quarrels of the divine couple from ordinary mortals!

A new roll of thunder echoed in the heart of the canton of Epirus: Zeus’s Europa was roaring with anger! Lightning flashed across the Olympian bastion and after a brief instant crashed into a steep hillside. I collected the herd and took them to the hut built by my ancestors long ago. The sky put on a dark and dense overcoat, and not even a sliver of light from flickering Phoebus could break through it.

Abruptly the night of Erebus dropped over the canton and a capricious blizzard blew through the tall trees, bending their spines. The wild Hyléores[iv] cloistered themselves in the conifers, frightened by the force of the wind. After that the snow rose up and offered me his lustful dance. I grabbed the neck of a goat, frightened by the fury of the elements. The dark canopy faded away and left an ethereal ballet, stars of snow that filled Mother Nature’s panorama.

Zeus’s angry rattle subsided, leaving the Hamadryades nymphs to proclaim their joy. I stepped out of the barn; a kid followed me and plunged its nose into the fresh air. A chiffon gown of snow dressed the rugged heights of Thessaly.

A shadow dressed in a dark Dionysian disguise emerged from a thicket; a black goat presented to my modest self the unsettling picture of his horned lyre. With an Olympian air, he walked to the barn door and went inside.

I followed and the goat was transformed into the image of a dazzling Egipan.[v] He presented himself to the virgin that I am. Standing on two hooves, the forest god wore a coat of onyx and had eyes of red amaranth. His two-horned lyre glorified him like the crown of a great Hellenic king. Time was running out and the Auloniads, the wood nymphs of Tempe, were anxious. Soon the bacchanalia would begin...

I had a dream: Wearing the horns of a ram, Lord Zeus Ammon sat upon his throne of gold, inlaid with rare wood and precious emeralds. Divine Zeus pierced the plain of Thessaly with his smouldering eyes, and with a slight breath from Aeolus the last clouds were swept away.

Zeus smiled, knowing that a new fruit would grow within me!

Sources

Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities (Dictionnaire des Antiquités Grecques et Romaines) by Charles Victor Daremberg and Edmond Saglio, digitized on the website of the University of Toulouse le Mirail, France. http://dagr.univ-tlse2.fr/ 

The National Library of France (Bibliothèque Nationale de France) Gallica website. http://gallica.bnf.fr/

The Kernos journal. http://web.philo.ulg.ac.be/kernos/en/

The Internet

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