By Torsten Schwanke
I
My girlfriend, who has gifts to forgive lust,
She gives men what they so ardently desire,
After their art of love they are called hetaerae,
Like whores, they are not common pornography.
So you love the hetaera, you are her hangover? -
Yes, brother, she is wise and fair, by God the Father!
II
Take heed, my Platonic, that thou dost not unnaturally
Be with boys, which is unnatural,
And thus offend the goddess, the goddess of true desire,
For that but stains the soul in the breast.
The boys are indeed beautiful, the young men in the town,
And have no beard and are as sweet as girls,
But they are no longer beautiful when they get a beard.
Glykere once revealed it to me.
III
It may be, it wonders some of my dear hearers,
With good reason it wonders some among the bewitchers,
Whether somewhere in the realm of good Attica
Is to be found a woman, if ever a suitor saw
A woman in Attica that was called Mania?
That would be a shame (by Hagia Sophia),
For this name is that of a Phrygian!
If this Athenian name came into the mind of a harlot,
It would be shameful, the work of idiots,
If the city of Athens had not forbidden it.
Athens is a city where men are tried and tested.
And the heresy of wise men is praised!
IV
Philyra fornicated in her charm of youth,
Then later she became a lady of virtue.
So did Scione, so did Hippophesis
And Theocleia too with her firm belly,
In her old age, the beautiful Theocleia became honourable,
So did Psamathe, and so did Antheia.
V
O my hetaera, my wife, O Nais with the lyre,
Knowest thou also the harlot, the false Anticyra,
Who bore false witness and loved to lie?
How pale were her eyes, dull and languid!
Her name was actually Oia, as reported
Aristophanes, who wrote of that woman.
But she was called Anticyra, because she liked to drink
With one who sank into delirium and lustful intoxication
And sunk in passion in a bed of pleasures,
Because Anticyra made him drunk with wine!
VI
I have in my house the mild Sophrosyne
And the righteous one too, the woman Dikaiosyne,
Arete dwells with me, the pious and virtuous,
Andreia walks with me, strong and full of strength,
Akesis well masters of the disciplines of love,
The women all serve me with their graces. -
My friend, how I am filled with the fiercest envy!
Give me one, oh a young maiden!
I would also like to court a slave,
Surely, women are but feminine slaves? -
But Apollonius answered his friend,
Who broke the rod of judgment on these women,
No, these women are not feminine slaves,
You cannot, my envious friend, court a girl,
No, respectable are the ladies! Every maiden
Is a sovereign of holy glory!
VII
If ever a good man came in distress and in sorrow,
So the hetaera in the evening and in the morning
Greeted him lovingly, made him free from grief,
His soul with gentle flattery caressed
And then kissed him. The kisses, though of no avail,
To suck out his soul like the worst enemy,
Nay, the hetaera kisses, as a dove nods.
And how she coos and how she pecks with her beak.
She sits at table with him, they dine without haste,
They chat wisely and piously, without a moment's boredom,
She takes the torment away from him, with her charming smile.
And with sweet chattering mouth she makes him happy again.
VIII
The naked whore can also be given the name
Of the wonderful Sphinx of the distant land of Thebes,
She chattereth not, nor gabbeth, nor speaketh with her mouth,
She speaks in riddles, she proclaims secret wisdom.
How sweet love is, how licking flames lick,
How gladly she comes with her friend.
When she speaks in riddles, the Sphinx says very kindly,
Four legs has the wide love-bed,
On a three-chair slurs Pythia in the little town,
Two legs long and slender, so are the young girls.
IX
I know hetaeras too, they are very conceited
Of their beauty. And the others are educated,
They are well brought up. The pedagogical
Hetaerae like to talk to wise men, logical
Sophists, also like to be with poets in order to learn.
They know the names of all the heavenly stars.
X
O wise Socrates, said Aspasia,
In thee there is a longing for the dear boys,
They bite at thy heart! But thou shalt take heed
And do not proudly despise my good advice.
(My body is consumed by the fire current of happiness,
But dew of tears hangs on the lashes of my gaze):
Encourage your heart and serve all the muses,
That will give you new strength. Trust in my bosom
And on my faithful heart. I will help you to see the Son,
To see the Son again on his throne of the gods.
The Muse helps alone, the Muse chosen,
Your whisper of love poured into this boy's ears,
The beginning of all pleasure, that is the muse's art,
With her help thou dost awaken his ardour,
Get his spirit, serve him with wise jests,
Pour love's word in his heart's ear.
XI
Philaenis wrote this book: Serve wisdom freely
And knowledge - but not fornication!
XII
The Olympian hero came victorious to the hetaera
And said to the beautiful woman, All honour to beauty!
See how the neck of the strong goat breaks
The overpowering charm of the young girl's skirt!
XIII
O dear mother of mine, by the father of all light,
How could I take to bed that good-for-nothing,
Who would have all the girls in his bed,
That all they may unite in his bed to feed him?
XIV
Go another way, thou grey-haired man,
At the hour of death, think not of love then
With a trollop's wife! If thou wilt consecrate thyself to God,
Then die not with sexual cries!
XV
Gnathaena invited me, we drank red wine.
Diphilus, she said, now we two are alone.
Gnathaena, I said, how cold is your cup,
The drinker's lip is frozen to the rim of the cup!
That is the punishment, she smiled back at me,
For appearing so often in thy plays.
XVI
Gnathäna feared who might exaltedly
Learn the arts, and be richer in the gifts
Of the art of love than she. Diphilus pays her,
By shining her face in his plays.
XVII
Now tell me, my poet, why do you write such things?
Away, all you sinners who do such wicked things!
Euripides stood there and was deeply astonished
And thus in his beard he murmurs softly and murmurs,
You whore, is it not you who do bad things?
Why are you surprised when a poet writes about it?
The whore said, Poet, I give the body to you,
It is but evil to them that think evil of it!
XVIII
O by Athena and the gods of all delights!
How cold the waters are in thy deep fountain! -
The punishment is that thy word deceived me
And let me speak in the most foolish prologue!
XIX
A man from a foreign land, a heroic warrior,
Who thought himself victor in all battles,
Who once came to Athens and looked around,
Then sent to Mania the messenger,
He would pay money to the Phrygian hetaera
And give her whatever she desires.
To the banquet he now invited a drinking companion,
Such a drinking companion, who also, full of wild madness,
Who likes to bathe his cracked gullet in red wine
And strays in intoxication from the narrow path of mercy,
Our husband asked him, My brother, tell me,
What in this world is the swiftest beast of all?
The riddle was subtle and witty,
How to hunt antelopes like black panthers.
Mania was in the room, was more beautiful than a dream,
And now and then left the room of the carousal,
And the woman said wittily, The fastest animal? You, warrior!
The fastest animal of all? It is you, victor!
For I remember, my soul‘s guest,
How you once dropped your shield in war!
XX
Mania smiled, My darling, by the prophets,
I only want to learn from Olympic athletes,
The shot-putters who thrust and thrust and thrust!
So thrust in the night, you too, in my lap!
XXI
Callisto once spoke, the dissolute harlot,
O Socrates, you man with furrows in your brow,
With thy oratory thou canst entice no son away,
Who wants Callisto's worthless whore's wages!
In reply Socrates gave the hooker of hookers:
The gods are with thee, erotes, naked cherubs,
Thou hast it also very easy, thy way is richly ornamented,
The gate open, wide, that leads to damnation!
But I led them the road, a steep one,
Up the narrow path through thorns to salvation!
The broad way down through dark whores' alleys
Rather go the people, the rabble of stupid masses.
The path of virtue is steep, is without sinful charm,
And few there be that go the way to the cross!
XXII
The strumpet Thais spoke to Euthydemus thus,
What then is a sophist with his A and O,
What else but a woman, who lasciviously as a hetaera
Gives herself to the man when he desires the woman?
As the hetaera the sophist has only in mind
Mammon's favour and grace, earthly gain.
XXIII
The wise Solon once saw many men in Athens,
The all-knowing he saw and the all-skilful,
Who were ever full of lust and ever potent,
But they still lacked the female element.
So Solon planted in his city, the pure,
The prostitutes, the beloved and vulgars.
They stood in the market, stripped bare, stark naked,
Let the man try them, if they are fit for the act.
O man of Greece, are you plagued by life's sorrows?
Away with sadness! Enter thou that chamber,
Only give thy denars, though thou be overflowing,
She'll do thee as thou wilt, she'll love thee as thou wilt!
XXIV
Zeus-father knows it well, ye old wives,
The strumpets have not a silvery grey hair.
They have not made their mouths scarlet,
Not dark-blue tinted the slit of the eye flash.
And when the sun glows, from front and back,
Not tears they weep like dark blue inks,
And not make-up mixes, the blue with the red.
Not grey is the thin hair. They do not tremble at death.
The young hurdles are certainly not like those
Wizened wives with dull grey strands.
XXV
Oh, just for the profit of robbing the neighbour,
That's why the turtledoves coo in love!
And they make webs, a sweet spider's web,
That's sticky and hungry for a woman's pleasure.
Ah, all the hetaeras, they are not what they seem,
The naked body is hidden under the linen.
One of them is too small, so she adds to it
And high heels she wears under her shoe.
The woman's pelvis is beautifully wide? To imagine this,
She wears her girdle to show her charms.
The other woman's eye is nothing but a slit,
She then deceives with a woman's wit
And paints the lips with fiery red make-up,
That each may wish to drink from her mouth.
The other's breast is small, not splendidly large,
Whereas great breasts are the delight of all men,
That the woman then fills with an artificiality.
The other woman's belly is fat, is too broad,
Her hips like a ring, she wears wide skirts,
That the horny he-goats do not notice.
There is a part of the body very well built - a fact
Is what I tell you - then they show it naked.
When their breasts are like white foam waves,
Then they let their breasts spill out of their shirts.
If a tooth is white, she surely often laughs
And shows the snow of her teeth and the power of her beauty.
And if she is sad, she wants to be tickled,
A poet then shall jest as a fool before her,
Thus the teeth she shows again, the string of pearls.
So wise in art is each, each harlot.
XXVI
Diogenes once spoke, the cynic, the dog,
To Aristippus, the Socratic, announced,
My Aristippus, you love a naked whore?
Turn and accept the teaching that is pure
And become a cynic like me, a poor dog!
But Aristippus spoke with a smile around his mouth,
Diogenes, it seems bad for you to live there,
Where many have dwelt for eons?
No, said Diogenes, it does not seem bad to me at all.
And Aristippus said, And has not one the right,
To sail in the ship in which many have sailed?
But, said Diogenes, what of the harlots?
And Aristippus said, Then will I delight myself
In the woman, who with her sweet body
Has refreshed many, in this world of shadows
I will give myself also to the naked harlot in lust!
XXVII
The courtesan there, how beautifully she knows how to eat!
You don't see her eating the flesh as roughly as men,
She does not open her mouth to gulp down
What, hunter her, in the net for her table catches,
Not with her teeth does she wolfishly tear at the flesh,
Nay, she dines with moderation, like a pious chaste
Consecrated maiden of Miletus, so full of measure
The courtesan beautifully ate the roast duck.
XXVIII
O goddess Muse, sing to me of the manner of women,
As I have often seen them on earth!
The one is full of strength and is strong like men,
The other is full of lust, sucking juice from the marrow,
The other is very prudent, they almost call her wise,
The other, unjust, is severe in every way,
The other chases away the suitor that loves her
And yet accepts all that he gives her in sacrifice.
XXIX
Thus said Socrates to the harlot Theodote,
In thy body dwelleth the soul unto death,
The soul instructs thee how the body's splendour
Gives the pleasures that men rejoice in,
And how the speeches of thy warm heart
Are as wise as learned from the ancient rolls,
As thou dost welcome the pious guest of soul,
That thou hate the wicked man with all thy heart!
And when a friend of yours comes to the sick
In the hospital, as thou art, the gods will thank,
You shall visit him and hold his hand.
And if a friend found happiness already on earth,
That thou with him rejoice to give thanks to the great God.
But if a sickness comes into his mind
And great sadness, then give him your hand
And smile sweetly on him and comfort him charmingly!
XXX
The old mother spoke an admonition to her daughter,
Diphilus told me, I have a presentiment,
That thou hast drunk with the company
Of the friend, and danced with all the charm's strength,
That with the cymbal's swing thou didst feast all men.
And that then you gave his friend many kisses.
XXXI
So Socrates said of the girl Theodote,
She was so beautiful in Aphrodite's fashion,
Who was a girlfriend who honours all men
And gives every man what he desires of her.
A painter saw her once, he wanted to paint her,
That he saw Urania radiate around the girl,
Then she became his model. He saw, if you believe it,
The fair lady as naked as virtue allows.
XXXII
Thus said Socrates of the maiden Theodote,
O that the beautiful woman in Aphrodite's fashion
Showed us her beauty and gracious grace,
That we worshipped Urania in pious worship,
That she let herself be seen from crown to calf,
That to those who saw was God's great mercy.
Who was more blessed, she who let herself be seen,
We who looked upon this woman of Paradise?
Who profited more, the woman who let herself be seen,
We that looked the fairest of women naked?
XXXIII
Praxiteles created the form of Eros,
He thus revealed the power of Eros
And thus revealed as genius modest,
What he had to suffer from Eros' power.
He made the model according to his inner sense
And then gave it to Phryne as a love offering.
Eros' spell no longer comes from weapons,
It comes now from the image that the genius made.
XXXIV
The naked queen of love and lust
Now stands as Knidia with her breast exposed
In her place of worship, accessible to all men,
Who gaze upon her with eyes of connoisseurship,
And as the goddess would have it, the lust born,
The naked goddess is seen from behind and in front.
The goddess is beautiful in every way, the naked one!
Miss Phryne was the model for this Venus nude.
XXXV
Cythere Paphia walked on the sea,
So as to reach the temple at Knidos,
And looked upon her effigy, the marble goddess beautiful,
And sighed softly then with loving moan,
Praxiteles, my friend, how am I to understand,
When did you see Paphia Kythere naked?
XXXVI
Miss Phryne smiling spoke to the artist, her friend,
Have no fear, my friend. Thou hast, it seems to me,
The goddess's nude made, the one and only, incomparable,
The naked queen of love unattainable,
As never a man made. The mistress of thy flesh
Thou hast thus immortalised. Your work of art is a chaste one.
I, Phryne, was the model for Aphrodite's nude,
You saw me, your model and your muse, naked.
The fifty-year-old woman Phryne, your model,
Is now worshipped as a deity here in the temple.
XXXVII
Miss Phryne once stood before judges, advocates,
The sentence in the court they were already pronouncing,
When Phryne, in a moment, for posterity to know,
Took off her shirt from her bosom,
In the presence of advocates there, and in the presence of lawyers strange,
She stood bare-chested and with her shirt rent,
She revealed to the court her naked breasts
And they all cheered loudly before the epitome of lust!
And her defender spoke thus before the court,
The goddess of all lust in her seat of the shell
Preserves the priestess, the prophetess of her delights,
The queen of lust is well disposed to Phryne!
So gracious in judgment the goddess of all pleasure
To the fairest Phryne was with bosom bared.
XXXVIII
For good reason sacred sanctuaries are build
For the hetaeras beautifully in love of women-glories,
But in Greece in no place is there to be seen
A temple erected by husbands to their wives.
XXXIX
But the hetaeras are called girlfriends alone,
The hetaeras will only be dedicated to the goddess of love,
The goddess of friendship, praised in many a myth,
As Saint Urania, Hetaira Aphrodite!
The goddess first establishes the beautiful bond of friendship
Of men and women with many-kissed mouths.
XL
It is a pious custom, as pious customs are,
That in the seaport of Corinth they pray,
To the goddess-queen, the sea-foam's blossom,
The men pray to the goddess Aphrodite
And beseech the goddess for the grace of the hetaera,
That the hetaeras in the cult of Aphrodite
Give themselves lovingly to feed the men.
The harlots then come with their offerings.
XLI
Ye young girls, ye servants of love,
Slaves of Peitho, rulers of lust,
You burn the incense on the sacred altar
And offer hot prayers to the Great Mother!
It is guaranteed to you, one may with most beautiful shoots
In the ransacked bed you fancifully love!
But I ask myself, what will the Father God say
To this song? Will he mock with derision,
That I have sung sweetly with honeyed tongue,
As I loved on my feet the lovely, the young?
XLII
O port of Corinth, O most happy port,
With a thousand harlots will I sleep in the temple,
Many thousand harlots are in the port of Corinth,
Are hierodules and hetaeras, lovely are
The girls! And the city has become rich,
Because men from all over the world come to Corinth
And many a sailor comes and many a captain,
To see this paradise on earth!
XLIII
In the port of Corinth a festival of love
Is celebrated, a festival of free impulses!
The free citizen's wife does not take part in the feast,
But all the slave girls are lustful and horny
And the playmates and suitors are drunk!
Oh bliss, at the bosom suck drunk!
XLIV
King Gyges once, the lord of Lydia,
Possessed by the maid of Saint Urania,
Possessed by the woman, the free love‘s fool,
Possessed like a fool by his flesh's mistress,
Of the kingdom's half he offered to the beloved
And loved this woman even after her death
And built a monument of greatness to her spirit,
Because he was possessed by this lap of laps!
The monument was so great, the monument of love,
That from the top of Tmolus you can still see it.
XLV
The great Harpatus of Macedonia,
Who plundered Alexander's treasure, once saw
Pythionice and coveted the hetaera
And gave her all, money and vigour and honour,
Though the fair woman, Pythionice, was but a hetaera,
A hætaera and nothing but common whore.
And when the harlot died, the harlot of all harlots,
Then he built for her the greatest of figures,
Built for her a gigantic monument,
To which the whole world burns in hot lust!
And when they buried her coffin in the earth,
Their flutes blew beautifully the shepherds of her flock
And choirs sang aloud when the flutes were blown,
That Pythionice went to God in Paradise!
XLVI
On the sacred road to sacred Athens,
Athena's temple can be seen from afar.
There stands a monument, which is regarded by keen connoisseurs
As a monument of a great wise man,
The democrat's mark, the great Pericles,
It would also be worthy of the wise Socrates.
But if you look closer, the monument
Is adorned with the name of a woman,
The name of a woman who had been
A prostitute, kown as Pythionice,
Her friend once built her this gigantic monument.
XLVII
In sacred Athens, the navel of the gods' wisdom,
A monument is to be seen, as also in daughter Babel,
Which Alexander's friend erected,
The most beautiful monument in the ancient world,
Where Pythionice was the example of love's lust,
A temple was erected for her by her friend,
Where Pythionice was besought by suitors,
As Pythionice, yes, as Venus in prayer!
XLVIII
The great Harpatus commanded the people,
The king's commandment of power, that had to mean,
To offer him the crown of a lord,
So may all the world, by the goddess of the Morning Star,
First offer the diadem, the pure,
To the lord's favourite, the fairest naked whore,
For as he was king in his noble mind,
So was the favourite queen of the realm,
The naked whore was the great Basilissa
Of the Basilea, handmaid of the goddess Aphrodite!
Heed the commandment, ye men, most carefully,
Honour the queen more than mother or wife!
XLIX
Ah, that most beautiful woman,
Who shares the temple of the gods
With Eros, that woman, love's model!
Wherein is this woman skilled in magic,
With which she her suitors enslave and oppress?
L
I saw the marble image of Cottina, the hetaera.
When I look at the marble image, I desire,
Cottina I desire at once. Like snow the breasts bright!
Cottina's name is also near a brothel,
Colona near, where on top of everything
There's also a temple to Saint Dionysus.
The brothel is well known in this little town,
There mature women and astonished girls serve
And offer sacrifices. Athena also watches
Cottina's marble breast, a cow's udder!
LI
There was once a woman, the beautiful little hurdle Thais,
She was just as beautiful as that little hurdle Lais.
To Alexander said the strumpet Thais then,:
O Alexander, come now to Persia,
Intoxicate with fire wine the women all,
That they, intoxicated with wine, with wild-eyed hands
Tear down the temples of Persia in revenge,
Because Persians once stormed the grove of Aphrodite!
And so it came to pass. The many young men
In drunken smoke, of wine learned wise connoisseurs,
And drunken women in ecstasy and intoxication
Tearing down the temples in bows and in heaps
And stormed through the city with flaming torches!
The woman's pelvis dances! The woman's breasts shake!
LII
It was in Abydos that the slaves lurked cunningly
And the hetaeras all conquered the walls
And entered the city and set it on fire
And murdered in their sleep the men and the boys.
Then they consecrated the city, which now glowed in the fire,
To the goddess of sex, the goddess Aphrodite!
LIII
As Persians invaded from the dark Orient,
To murder Greece in the pious Occident,
The harlots prayed to the goddess Aphrodite,
That Aphrodite might protect the blossom of the West,
The hetaeras worshipped and consecrated Greece
To the Queen of Heaven, trusted in her hand
Wise Greece, Athenian citadels.
Prayers arose from heavenly brothels!