Category: English version included

Gottheit der Woche 46: Hermes

18. August 2018

An einer Kreuzung warte ich auf dich,

Hermes,

Gott der vielen Wege,

doch wer dich sucht und deine Botschaft,

steht eher vor einem Irrgarten!

Schutzpatron der Reisenden und des Verkehrs,

und zugleich ein Schelm, der gerne in die Irre führt!

Schutzpatron der Kaufleute,

und zugleich der der Diebe!

Gott der Wissenschaften,

aber auch der Magie!

Ich wende mich heute an dich als den Gott,

der einst mit von Gott gesandter menschlicher Vernunft gleichgesetzt wurde:

Sei gegrüßt von einem Science Fiction Fan,

du, der schneller als das Licht reisen kann!

Sei gegrüßt von einer, die das Logos im Berufstitel führt!

Ich heiße dich an meinem Feuer willkommen,

wenn dich deine Reise hierher führt!

Schenke mir eine Kostprobe deiner Redekunst

und nimm dafür meine Geschenke an!

 

I wait at the crossroads for you,

Hermes,

god of the many ways,

but whoever is searching for you and your message,

finds himself likely in front of a maze!

Patron of traffic and voyagers,

and at the same time trickster!

Patron of merchants,

and  even so god of thieves!

God of science

and god of magic!

Today I call to you as the one

who has been equalled with god sent human reason!

Be greeted by a science fiction fan,

you who travels faster than light!

Be greeted by one whose job description has the word logos in it, too! *

Be welcome at my fire, should your journey go this way!

Present me with an example of your elocution,

and take my presents in return!

 

  • The German word Logopädin means Speech-Language-Therapist/Pathologist in British/American English.

Gottheit der Woche 47: Hekate

18. August 2018

Hekate Atropeia, du die das Böse fernhält

Hekate Kourotrophos, Pflegerin

Hekate Soleira, Heilerin, Erlöserin

ich grüße dich!

 

Hekate Enodia, die am Wege

Hekate Kleidukos, Schlüsseltragende,

Hekate Propylaia, Torhüterin

ich grüße dich!

 

Hekate Chtonia, von der Erde

Hekate Skotia, die des dunklen Ortes

Hekate Phosporos und Ourania,

Lichtbringerin und Himmlische zugleich

ich grüße dich!

 

Dreifaltige Göttin,

gewandelt im Laufe der Zeit,

Jungfrau, starke unabhängige Mutter und weise Alte

Hüterin der Magie zwischen Sonne und Mond

ich lade dich ein:

Lass deinen Weg durch das Dunkel hindurch an mein Feuer führen

und lehre mich, was du zu geben hast!

Entzünde eine Fackel in meiner Dunkelheit

und nimm im Gegenzug, was ich dir geben kann, an!

 

 

 

In English:

Hekate Atropeia, you who keeps away bad things

Hekate Kourotrophos, caretaker

Hekate Soleira, healer, redeemer

I say hello to you!

 

Hekate Enodia, who stands at the way

Hekate Kleidukos, who carries the keys,

Hekate Propylaia, gatekeeper

I say hello to you!

 

Hekate Chtonia, of the earth

Hekate Skotia, of the dark place

Hekate Phosporos and Ourania,

lightbringer and heavenly one all together

I say hello to you!

 

Triple goddess

whose image changed with the times,

young virgin, strong independant mother and wise old crone

guardian of magic between sun and moon,

I invite you:

Let your path wander trough the dark towards my fire

and teach me what you have to give!

Lighten a torch in my darkness

and take in return, what I have to offer you!

 

Gottheit der Woche 41: Laima

15. August 2018

Ich höre dich im Ruf des Kuckucks,

Laima, göttliche Prophetin von Glück und Unglück,

du, die alles weiß.

Ich höre dich im Blöken des Lammes,

Laima, Zemynas Schwester,

Bringerin von Wohlstand und Reichtum.

Ich höre dich im Gesang der Meise,

Laima, die den Lebensfaden spinnt.

Leben und Tod liegen in deiner Hand.

Du erschaffst und du zerstörst,

damit aus den Ruinen etwas Neues entstehen kann.

Laima, Göttin der Kreativität,

du lenkst das Schicksal von Göttern und Menschen.

Vom Feuer deines Herdes bitte ich dich an das Feuer in meiner Mitte,

Laima!

Was du mich lehren kannst,

tausche ich gegen meine Opfergaben!

 

I hear you in the song of the cuckoo,

Laima, divine prophetess of luck and bad luck,

you who knows everything!

Ich hear you in the call of the lamb,

Laima, Zemyna’s sister,

bringer of wealth and fortune.

I hear you in the song of the tit/chickadee,

Laima, who sins the thread of life.

Life and death are at your hand.

You create and destroy,

so something new can be created from the ruins.

Laima, goddess of creativity,

you guide the fate of gods and humans alike.

From the fire of your hearth I invite you to the fire in my center,

Laima!

That what you can teach me,

I will exchange for my offerings!

 

Gottheit der Woche 39: Teutates

15. August 2018

Mit der Macht des Feuers verbrennst du unsere Fesseln,

was uns bindet und blockiert.

Mit der Macht der Erde erschütterst du das Selbstbewusstsein unserer Gegner,

was uns verunsichert und klein macht.

Mit der Macht des Wassers spülst du Hindernisse und Blockaden aus unserem Weg,

was unser freies Denken untergräbt und unser Bild von uns selbst verzerrt.

 

Teutates zwischen Himmel, Land und Meer,

Teutates auf der Grenze,

Teutates, Gott des Stammes:

Beschützer des Volkes,

Bewahrer der Traditionen,

Bindeglied zwischen Vergangenheit und Zukunft,

ich rufe dich!

 

Erfülle mich mit der Weisheit des Kriegers,

der Weisheit, die wahren Feinde zu erkennen,

der Weisheit, welche Kämpfe notwendig sind oder wert, gekämpft zu werden,

der Weisheit, zu begreifen, wann Schluss ist.

 

Erfülle mich mit der Kraft des Kriegers,

dem Mut, den Dingen ins Auge zu sehen,

der Integrität, die richtigen Werte hochzuhalten,

der Stärke, den Weg bis zum Ende zu gehen.

 

Lehre mich, an deiner Seite zu kämpfen,

Teutates,

und nimm im Gegenzug meine Geschenke an!

 

In Zeiten von AFD und CSU und immer mehr rechtgerichteten Regierungen um uns herum bitte ich um göttlichen Beistand, wenn es darum geht zu erkennen, welche Werte wirklich wichtig sind, was Heimat wirklich bedeutet und wo Populismus anfängt.

 

In English:

You burn our shackles with the power of fire,

that which binds and hinders us.

You shatter the self-confidence of our adversaries with the power of the earth,

that which makes us feel insecure and small.

You take away obstacles and handicaps with the power of water,

that which undermines our independant thinking and distorts our self-perception.

 

Teutates between sky, land and sea,

Teutates on the borders,

Teutates, patron of the tribe:

Guardian of the people,

keeper of the traditions,

link between past and future,

I call out to you!

 

Fill me with the wisdom of the warrior:

the wisdom to know your true enemies,

the wisdom to know which fights are neccessary and worth to be fought

the wisdom to know when it has to be over.

 

Fill me with the strength of the warrior:

the courage to look things in the eye,

the integrity to hold up the good values,

the power to keep on going rith to the end.

 

Teach me to fight at your side,

Teutates,

and take my offerings in return!

 

At this time, with all those right-wing governments and parties around us, I ask for divine guidance to show me which are the true values, what home truly means and where the fine line is between that and populism.

Gottheit der Woche 44: Veles

29. Juli 2018

Ein Kind der Erde ruft zu dir:

Veles,

für dich erklingt mein Lied!

Die Quelle trägt meinen Ruf zu dir,

bis in die Tiefen der Unterwelt folgt dir meine Stimme.

Patron der Künstler, Schauspieler und Barden:

Möge dir gefallen, was ich dir zu bieten habe!

Du, der über die Toten wacht,

du, der über das Vieh wacht,

du, der über die Rechtsordnung wacht,

du, der über den Besicht wacht!

Vielfältiger, wandelbarer Veles,

ich bitte dich:

Such dir einen Weg an mein Feuer,

erfreu dich an meinen Gaben für dich!

Im Gegenzug teil dein Wissen mit mir,

deine Inspiration oder was du mich sonst lehren kannst!

 

In English:

A child of the earth calls out to you:

Veles.

my song is just for you!

The well will carry my call to you,

down into the depths of the underworld

my voice will follow you.

Patron of the artists,

of actors and bards:

May you be pleased by my offerings to you!

You who watches over the dead,

you who watches over the cattle,

you who watches over jurisdiction,

you who watches over what belongs to me!

Multifaceted, changeable Veles,

I ask you:

Find a way to my fire,

enjoy what I have to give!

In return share your knowledge with me,

your inspiration or what else you wish to teach me.

Gottheit der Woche 30: Dazbog

29. Juli 2018

Jetzt hatte ich glatt vergessen, den Post einzustellen. Aber hier ist er:

 

Dazbog,

du Spender alles Guten,

Grundlage allen Lebens auf der Erde,

du, der das Feuer auf der Erde repräsentiert,

ich grüße dich und lade dich ein:

Komm an mein Feuer,

erfüll mein Feuer mit deiner Kraft!

Güter des Gesetzes,

lass deine Sonne über mir erstrahlen und lehre mich,

was du mich lehren kannst und möchtest!

 

In English:

Dazbog,

provider of all good things,

foundation for all life on earth,

you, who represents fire on our planet,

I greet you and invite you:

Come to my fire,

fill my fire with your powers!

Guardian of the laws,

let your sun shine down on me and teach me

what you can and want to.

The story of the land wight who wanted to know who had lost his hammer

16. Juni 2018

One morning Beorl, the little land wight, wanted to leave his cavern to get a bit of fresh air and have a swim in a lake nearby, but he couldn’t get out. In front of his cavern entrance lay something. It was really huge, heavy and hard, and no pushing or showing helped. Finally Beorl took a shovel and built a tunnel under the thing. Once outside he took a deep breath. What in the name of all nine worlds had happened here?

Beorl took a closer look at the thing: It looked like a big hammer, with an enormous head from metal and some nice engravings, and a relatively short handle that still was rising high enough that Beorl could hardly see the end. Haven’t I been lucky, he thought by himself. That thing could have easily crashed through my ceiling! But how can I get rid of it? The hammer just can’t lie there forever. I can’t use my cavern properly right now!

Beorl thought hard. Something as big as this hammer had to belong to a either a giant or a god. Humans and spirits couldn’t possibly handle such a heavy weapon. And he hadn’t seen a jotun, a giant, in these parts for ages. So a god had to be the culprit.

He washed his face, because that was really necessary after all this shoveling, and started to search for the hammer’s owner.

The way to Asgard wasn’t long, and at Bifröst, the rainbow bridge, Beorl already met the first god. It was Heimdall, who guards the bridge.

„Have you lost a hammer?“, Beorl asked him. „I?“ Heimdall was surprised. „No, I don’t use a hammer. I have a horn.“ And he took a big horn from his back. „You see? But I mustn’t blow it until Ragnarök, when the worlds come to an end.“

But he let the little land wight cross the bridge so that he could search further.

Next Beorl met the goddess Idun who was sitting in her garden.

„Have you lost a hammer?“, Beorl asked her. „Who, I?“ Idun laughed. „No, I have apples, not a hammer. What would I need a hammer for?“ And she plucked an apple and showed it to Beorl. „Here! One of those will keep you healthy and alive for a long time. The gods eat them all the time!“

And she gave it to Beorl, in case he got hungry on his way.

When he moved on he encountered Odin, who was riding his horse Sleipnir. Beorl stopped the god.

„Have you lost a hammer?“ he asked and carefully avoided Sleipnir’s eight dancing legs. „I?“ Odin droned with a deep voice. „No, I don’t need a hammer. I have some ravens instead.“ He whistled, and two ravens sat down on his shoulders. „May I introduce you to Hugin and Munin? They fly around and tell me everything they have seen.“ But they hadn’t seen who had dropped the hammer in front of Beorl’s cavern, so Odin rode on and left the land wight fast behind.

He reached a house with ‘Fensal’ written on the doors. Said doors and all windows were wide open. Beorl, being a polite land wight, knocked first and entered. A fire was burning brightly in the hearth, and next to it sat a woman he recognized as Frigga.

„Have you lost a hammer?“, he asked her. „I?“, Frigga shook her head. „No, I don’t own a hammer. I always use a spindle.“ She reached into a basket, took a spindle out of it and started spinning. The thread made a bulk around the spindle, and when she let go, the spindle sailed through the open window, rose to the sky and changed into a little cloud.

„Oh!“, Beorl marveled the sight, and then went on, before it started raining.

On a meadow there sat the god Frey and was feeding his golden boar Gullinborsti some acorns.

„Have you lost a hammer?“, Beorl asked him. „I?“ Frey was surprised. „No, not a hammer. I lost a sword, but, to be honest, I didn’t really lose it. I gave it to my friend Skirnir, so he would bring me my beloved wife.“ He smiled sheepishly. „But I still have got my ship!“ He drew a piece of cloth from his bag. It didn’t look very impressive to Beorl, and he said so.

Frey smiled. „I know, but if I throw it into the water I transforms into a big ships with enough place for all the other gods.“ Beorl had to admit that this sounded like a cool trick.

It didn’t take long and he met the next goddess. Freya was going for a ride with her chariot. The cats that drew the chariot were meowing loud when they saw Beorl. „Hello! Have you lost a hammer?“, Beorl asked the goddess and admired her beauty. „What, a hammer? I?“ Freya shook her head. „The only use I might have for a hammer is as a trinket, and I have better things for that.“ She opened her cloak a little bit and showed him the sparkling necklace underneath. „Isn’t she wonderful? The dwarfs made her for me. In never go anywhere without Brisingamen. Not even into a fight. One always should enjoy the beautiful things in life, don’t you think?“ Beorl agreed and thought by himself how beautiful it would be to finally get rid of this hammer!

Next he met the god Loki. He seemed to take a rest, but he was wide awake when Beorl asked him his usual question. „I? A hammer?“ Loki smiled with a mischievous grin. „No, but I could use one. Why?“ Beorl had a weird feeling. „Ah, it was just an idea.“, he answered with care and hurried on. Somehow he wasn’t inclined to give this specific god more details.

He was getting more and more frustrated. He had been searching all morning now, and still hadn’t found the owner. Who might it be? Tired he decided to go home again. Just before he reached the rainbow bridge he encountered a god who had just crossed the bridge. Beorl recognized Thor because of his wild red beard.

„Have you lost a ha-“ he wanted to ask, when Thor quick as a lightening clapped a hand across his mouth. „Pssst!“, the thunder god hissed. „Make sure that no one hears us!“ Carefully he loosened his grip.

„Have you found my hammer?“, he then breathed into Beorls ear. The land wight nodded. „He sits in front of my cavern and blocks the entrance.“ he declared. Thor straightened. „Mjölnir fell out of my pocket yesterday during a race against Loki. If the giants know that I lost him, they will raid Midgard and Asgard in no time and cause chaos. Bring me to your cavern, little land wight! Let’s save the world!“

He got his goats and quickly they reached Beorl’s cavern. There lay the hammer, and hadn’t moved a single bit.

Thor beamed, put on a pair of gloves and lifted the hammer as if he were as light as a feather. „There he is, my Mjölnir!“, he shouted happily and banged the hammer on the ground. Thunder rolled.

„Little Beorl, let me thank you!“

„Not necessary!“, Beorl grumbled softly.

Thor invited him for a dinner with goat steaks to celebrate Mjölnir’s return, but Beorl was too tired after his long search. He crawled through his now open entrance into his cavern, fell on his bed and was fast asleep even before the god had left.

The sleeping chieftain under Gochfortzberg

16. Juni 2018

Right behind Uedem, on the way to Xanten, there is a hill named Gochfortsberg. Earlier the hill had an arrow shaped front that towered over the country, but that part had broken in ages ago. Some mysterious ravines go through the mountain slopes and in the bushes along the hillsides many birds are nesting. It is told that once upon a time a chieftain had his castle on the hill and that he had been buried up there with all his servants. But nothing can be seen.

Our story happens a century or two ago, I can’t get more precise. Life wasn’t too advanced and whoever wanted to visit the neighbor town had to go by horse or on his own feet.

So it did happen that the blacksmith of Kervenheim wanted to go home on this gray foggy day in September. He had had an important well-paid job in Uedem, but now it was late and he wanted to get home. Dawn had set in already, but he was a big and strong man, and the darkness couldn’t frighten him.

His way went across Gochfortzberg. His lantern’s lights were dancing in the ravines and threw weird shadows an the ground, because there was quite some wind and the tree branches were bowing to the wind. Far away he heard a hare’s cry. Probably an owl had caught her.

Suddenly he heard s a swoosh and a swarm of black birds rose and surrounded him,

Startled the blacksmith jumped into the bushes and ducked between the brambles. The birds circles around for a while and then rose higher an higher until they became invisible between the fog and early darkness.

Their croaking kept on ringing in the black smith’s ears. While he tried to get rid of the thorns he say something shiny between the brambles, something he had never seen there before. He held his lantern higher and -yes, he hadn’t misjudged. Under all these twines a door was hidden, and not just any door: It was decorated with heavy iron dress plates, very artfully done, even if they seemed corroded in many places.

The smith was impressed: Some colleague had done a great job with this door. But why, he asked himself. Curiously he shoved some more blackberry twines away and soon he found the door knob.

Carefully he pulled the knob. He was half afraid the rusty knob might come off. But the door opened without a sound and there was a dark tunnel behind her.

Our smith wasn’t Irish: He’d never heard those stories about dangerous fairy hills, so he just allowed his curiosity to lead on and walked along the tunnel. After a few passes he saw a light and soon the tunnel opened into into a chamber. The whole room was shimmering golden, with good reason: The floor was covered with the finest carpeting. Coins, jewels and golden cups were stacked in cupboards along the walls. But most impressive was the golden throne standing in the middle of the room.

The blacksmith was quite surprised when he saw that the room wasn’t lifeless. A man was sitting on the throne, a very old man sporting a long white beard. And next to the throne there was another man in a servant’s uniform that might have been modern ages ago. Both seemed to sleep, but when smith came closer, the man on the throne stirred and opened his eyes. His facial features became smoother and all of a sudden he seemed far younger than before. He straigthened upand now the smith saw that he wore a kind of tiara decorated with jewels. He stopped, but the man had already seen him and signaled him to come before the throne.

How long did I sleep?“ he asked with a booming voice. „I, I don’t know, sir.“ the smith stuttered. „How did you get here?“ „Through the door. There was a door under the brambles. I swear that door hasn’t been there before, but suddenly I saw something shimmer and – „

It’s alright.“, the man nodded. „The door can’t be seen by everyone. I take it that you know about iron magic?“ „I have no idea of magic!“, the smith replied, down to the earth man from the Lower Rhine that he was, „but I am a smith. I know a lot about iron.“

So be it.“, the other man agreed. „Tell me: Are there still birds circling the hill?“

The smith thought of the swarm that had surrounded him just then. „You might say that.“

His dialog partner sighed deeply and said: „So I have to sleep a bit longer. My time hasn’t come yet.“

The smith stopped short at this comment, and thousand questions rushed his head, but the old man already closed his eyes again.

My servant will show you the way out. Farewell, my good smith!“

The servant bowed slightly, took the smith’s lantern and hurried away. At the upper end of the tunnel he returned the lantern and presented him a golden coin with a strange embossment. „Take this as a sign of our gratitude.“

This whole thing had been a little too much even for our tough smith, and so he hurried home to his smithy in Kervenheim. By now it was pitch black outside and raining hard.

At home everybody was sleeping already. So he crawled under the blankets and slept as well. Tomorrow he would tell his wife everything.

But when the morning came and the smith reached for the golden coin in his pocket, it was gone. He searched all his pockets and even went back the whole way to Gochfortzberg, but the door was gone, too. Without any proof his story seemed to be far to adventurous and far-fetched, that years went by until he finally told somebody about it. The only thing he got from this adventure were some gray hairs.

The door stayed lost, and nobody has seen the sleeping chieftain and his servant ever since. And this is how it will remain until the birds stop circling the hill.

There are quite a few stories about Gochfortzberg. One of them is this one, clearly a local variation of the Kyffhäuser myth. I heard about it during an presentation of archeological information and tried to shape those bits into a story. In some variations of this myth the sleeper under the mountain is a bringer of peace, in other he will return on doomsday. As a matter of fact traces of settmlements have been found on the hill that go back to the iron age. Some of them were of Roman origin as well and another interpretation of the origins of the ravines of Gochfortzberg says that the Romans tried to create a shortcut from Xanten to Uedem. Still the story about the sleeping chieftain is one of my favorites and it goes well along with all those other sleeper-stories. The importance of the birds related to the end of the world as we know it is know from the London Tower, too.

Why is this story so interesting for me? Because the hill is quite close to my home. Just a few kilometers away.

The competition between Sun, Frost and Thunder

16. Juni 2018

This story is based on an old Baltic fairy tale. I tried to re-paganize the whole story.

Once upon a time three gods met on a nice spring morning: The sun goddess was going for a ride in her chariot, the god of frost and ice was counting his snowflakes and the thunder god was happily herding a few little clouds. They started talking about this and that, and -because gods are like that- they began to boast who of them would be the mightiest and most powerful one.

The sun goddess shook her head, and her long golden hair flew: „It is quite obvious! People love me: I bring warmth and light to them. So I am surely the most powerful of us.“

But the ruler of the frost laughed: „You might be wrong. They love you, so much is true, but they fear me more. When the humans feel the chill in their bones, their fear grows and grows. That’s why I am definitely the mightiest of us all.“

Well!, the storm and thunder god, who hadn’t said much up to now, answered. „You must know that actually I am the most powerful god of us three.“

Sun and Frost laughed at him. „You? You think that you are the most powerful of us? You can’t truly believe that.“ And they laughed so hard that Sun became red cheeks and Frost lost some of his snowflakes. The storm god kept cool and simply smiled.

Why don’t we go and ask the people? Let’s go for a walk on earth and we’ll see who’s right.“

The other two lied the idea and so they went.

After a while they met a farmer returning home from his field. Upon seeing the three gods he bowed deeply to them.

Promptly the gods started discussing.

You see, he greeted me!“, Sun claimed. „His greeting was meant to me, so I am the winner.“

No, he greeted me.“, Frost was sure. „He bowed in my direction, so I must be the winner.“

You are both wrong, because he meant greeting me.“, Storm contradicted both.

Never!“, the others answered.

So the storm god went after the farmer and spoke to him: „You just bowed, but to whom did you bow?“

Of course to you, Mr. Thunder!“, the farmer replied immediately.

Whoa, Sun and Frost didn’t like that!

You’ll hear about that!“ the sun goddess promised, jumped on her chariot and away she went.

You’ll wait. When winter arrives, humankind will regret this deeply. Thunder, oh really!“ the frost god ranted and was gone as well.

The storm god waited until they were gone. Then he nodded to the farmer, who had gone pale with fear.

Don’t worry! If you need help, just call me!“ And with these words he left, too.

The farmer was working on his fields, and the first green grew like expected. Summer came, ans the fields began needing some water. Instead it became hotter and hotter, when Sun made her threat come true: The grain on the fields threatened to burn, the animals were suffering in thirst and the farmer became very, very worried. Suddenly he remembered the thunder god’s words, and he prayed:

Help me, god of storm and thunder!“

And the wind started blowing and became a real storm, that cooled down the heat and brought rain clouds to the sky. When the first thunderstorm poured down on the fields, the farmer knew: His harvest was saved!

Fall came and winter, too. And he came to stay. It seemed as if cold wouldn’t find an end. Slowly the storage and supplies were growing thin, and still there were mountains of snow around the farm. When the farmer brought his last stash of firewood into the house he remembered the thunder god again, and he prayed: „Dear Stormy One, if you can help me, please do so!“

In this night a strong wind came up and blew away the snow bearing clouds, and in the morning he had changed to a mild wind that melted down the frost. Soon the winter’s powers were broken.

The farmer and his family were very happy and they had a big party to honor the storm god.

From this day on the sun goddess and the frost god were much more friendly to the storm and thunder god and had to admit sheepishly that he truly was the mightiest god of them.