Mænads - Årabrot

Let’s raise our glasses to the mænads

The drunken, raving ones

Who in intoxicated exaltation

Will hunt you down

Who will howl and bellow

Who will let you taste their naked flesh

Under fawn fox skins and with thieves' can’t

Wrap their snakes around

They lick the honey-trickle

From vine-clad long sticks

Let’s propose a toast to substitutes and prostitutes

Those who lay naked spread on panther skin

After the maniacal revelling and raging hysteria

And feats of madness and loud bang of drums

And crashing of cymbals, sparagmos and omophagia

Praise the rapture of these rites

You’ll find yourselves within a droning frenzy

You’ll find yourselves engirdled by moist, damp bodies

Of the women of the Amphissa

Whose mouths are greedy with blood

A drop of blood on carnal lips

Are licked with an ivy-poisoned tongue

Wild, lively eyes project venereal ardour

And what will you do?

You will raise your glass for good health

Pour me some more!

As I slide my fingertip down the rima vulva

As I suck milk from phantom breasts

Lap wine from Earth’s womb

While serpents glide through sweat

In a ritualistic movement

Let’s raise our glasses to these nurses

And praise their mere existence

To the mountains!

To the mountains!