When Boreas, lashing Skiron's tail,

Freeing the winter storms from jail,

With icy fingers grips your hand,

Howling through the windswept land,

Bringing snow from northern pole,

To numb your body, heart and soul,

Do you long to sit by burning fires

Which warm the hearths of Northern Shires?


When Kaikias, rattling shield of hail,

Cuts your face with knife-edged gale,

And Eurus pours the streaming rains,

Inverting now the vase he drains;

When with the sharp and stormy squalls

Twofold adverse fortune calls,

Do you look for soft, caressing bales

Of lambswool spun in Northern Dales?


When humid Notus rends in twain,

Apeliotes' shortlived, gentle reign,

Whose harvest-laden boots and cloak,

On dripping wings he swoops to soak;

When his foggy mists protect the thief,

And sailors fear the storm-wrecked reef,

Do you think of mellow harvest stands

Which deck the halls of Northern Lands?


When Livas now through waves of foam,

With hand on stern, guides sailors home,

But blasting in with searing heat,

Scorches fields of golden wheat;

When oppressed beneath his torpid air,

Your spirits languish in despair,

Does your arid soul seek belamours  

By cooling streams on Northern Moors?


When Zephyrus to the farmer brings

The gentle winds which herald springs,

And from his laden basket pours

His fruit and flowers on marble floors,

Why choose to leave those ancient shores,

Unless, when savage Notus roars,

You'd rather hear the peeling chimes

Of bells which ring in Northern Climes.


When bearded Skiron tips his cauldron,

Be mindful of north-western Acheron,

For his glowing ashes wither fruit,

Heralding winter's raw salute;

When through the conch the polar gusts

Your vine-clad lands with ice encrust;

Do you yearn to watch on freezing nights,

The shimmering glow of Northern Lights?


When Boreas howls and Eurus pours,

When Notus storms and Zephyr soars,

Do you dare to pass the mountains dire,

Where Boreas guards Elysian shire?

Do you dare to seek eternal spring

In realm where Helios reigns as king?

The immortal land of Northern Lore,

The golden Hyperboreal Shore.


©  Heloisa Hodierna



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This work by Heloisa Hodierna, Francisca Parva is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.