Brass-beating Salians, ministers of Mars,
Who wear his arms the instruments of wars;
Whose blessed frames, heaven, earth, and sea compose,
And from whose breath all animals arose:
Who dwell in Samothracia’s sacred ground,
Defending mortals through the sea profound.
Deathless Curetes, by your power alone,
The greatest mystic rites to men at first were shown.
Who shake old Ocean thundering to the sky,
And stubborn oaks with branches waving high.
It’s yours in glittering arms the earth to beat,
With lightly leaping, rapid, sounding feet;
Then every beast the noise terrific flies,
And the loud tumult wanders through the skies:
The dust your feet excites, with matchless force
Flies to the clouds amid their whirling course;
And every flower of variegated hue
Grows in the dancing motion formed by you;
Immortal daemons, to your powers consigned,
The task to nourish and destroy mankind,
When rushing furious with loud tumult dire,
Overwhelmed, they perish in your dreadful ire;
And live replenished with the balmy air,
The food of life, committed to your care.
When shook by you, the seas, with wild uproar,
Wide-spreading, and profoundly whirling, roar.
The concave heavens with echo’s voice resound,
When leaves with ruffling noise bestrew the ground.
Curetes, Corybantes, ruling kings,
Whose praise the land of Samothracia sings;
Great Jove’s assessors; whose immortal breath
Sustains the soul, and wafts her back from death;
Aerial-formed, who in Olympus shine
The heavenly Twins all-lucid and divine:
Blowing, serene, from whom abundance springs,
Nurses of seasons, fruit-producing kings.