Athena of Cempsibriga
From a raft with torn sail, a man burned by sun,
My father Arémori swam to our shore.
Half dead and half naked he sprawled on the sand
Where Bríga, my mother was walking that day.
Her shout to the fishermen raised the alarm.
My grandfather turned him to lie on his back
Then pressed on his chest til he drew a first breath
And seawater sprang from his lungs through his mouth.
Now this is the tale simple townspeople tell,
To sing in a story of love at first sight.
My father and mother both smile when they hear it
Exchanging a glance that is loaded with truth.
My name is Athena, the child of that man.
He taught me to see things that others cannot,
To understand portents from birds in the sky,
To run through a forest and not make a sound.
The day of my birth is when darkness and light
Are equal and signal the start of the year.
Adsálluta‘s festival falls at this time,
Her sister Rosmérta is honored as well.
While all Cempsibrigans roast fish and drink wine
And dance to the goddesses festival tunes
My father and I climb up high on the hill
To be sentries with eyes on the sea and the East.
To the child in his wake, he said: “Tread in my steps,
And sharpen your ears to what animals say,
And whether they tell us to walk or to run,
Or warn us with silence to stop before danger.”
I hid in the treetops and watched the young men
He trained to be stealthy and masters of guile.
Yet none of them ever discovered me where
My father allowed me to secretly be.
Up here in my lair I have arrows and spears
But fear is not one thing he taught me to hold.
He showed me that not being seen is the way
A goddess ensures that the enemy flees.
This festival day when my years reached thirteen
He stood at the edge of our bountiful sea
With his arms spread apart as about to embrace
A friend who was coming to him from afar.
His powerful voice rang with one final cry:
“Arémori, Oddys-is… no man and I…”
The largest of waves that had ever been seen
Came crashing down over his head of white hair
And sucked him out into the furious sea
Then spat him back out to where he was first found.
He told me he wanted his body to burn,
His bones with his ashes all placed in an urn
Which mother and I carried up to the shrine
Of goddess Athena, the source of my name.
My mother lives down in the house that he built
While I sleep alone at the top of this hill.
From here I survey both the town and the sea
And keep my mind clear for the dangers to come.
