Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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A Yule Carol by (I Kid You Not) Margaret Murray

Early 20th-century maverick archaeologist Margaret Murray (1863-1963) needs no introduction, her 1921 Witch-Cult in Western Europe having been instrumental in getting the whole witchcraft-revival wheel turning.

Before becoming a revisionist historian, however, she was first and foremost an Egyptologist. Her somewhat libertarian translation of a 19th Dynasty hymn to the Sun’s rebirth makes a charming (if rather ponderous) addition to the repertoire of Yule carols, especially for those of us weary of “little Lord Sun God, asleep in the hay”-type rewrites.

For the non-Egyptians among us, I've appended a de-Kemetized version as well.

 

King Who Is Born in the Night

 

He is born! He is born! O come and adore Him!

Life-giving mothers, the mothers who bore Him,

Stars of the heavens, the daybreak adorning,

Ancestors, ye, of the Star of the Morning.

Women and Men, O come and adore Him,

Child who is born in the night.

 

He is born! He is born! O come and adore Him!

Dwellers in Duat, be joyful before Him,

Gods of the heavens, come near and behold Him,

People of Earth, O come and adore Him!

Bow down before Him, kneel down before Him!

King who is born in the night.

 

He is born! He is born! O come and adore Him!

Young like the Moon in its shining and changing,

Over the heavens His footsteps are ranging,

Stars never-resting and stars never-setting,

Worship the child of God’s own begetting!

Heaven and Earth, O come and adore Him!

Bow down before Him, kneel down before Him!

Worship, adore Him, fall down before Him!

God who is born in the night.

 

M. A. Murray, tr., Egyptian Religious Poetry (1949). John Murray, p. 68

 

King Who Is Born in the Night

 

He is born! He is born! O come and adore Him:

Son of the Mother, the Mother who bore Him!

Stars of the heavens, the daybreak adorning,

Shout to proclaim the Star of the Morning.

Women and Men, O come and adore Him,

Child who is born in the night.

 

He is born! He is born! O come and adore Him!

Beasts of the field, be joyful before Him,

Birds of the heavens, come near and behold Him,

People of Earth, O come and adore Him!

Bow down before Him, kneel down before Him!

King who is born in the night.

 

He is born! He is born! O come and adore Him!

Young like the Moon in Her shining and changing,

Over the heavens His footsteps are ranging,

Stars never-resting and stars never-setting,

Worship the child of His own begetting!

Women and men, O come and adore Him!

Bow down before Him, kneel down before Him!

Worship, adore Him, fall down before Him!

God who is born in the night.

 

M. A. Murray; revisions: S. W. Posch

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

Comments

  • Haley
    Haley Tuesday, 29 December 2015

    Thank you, Steven. What sort of tune do you have in mind with this?

  • Steven Posch
    Steven Posch Wednesday, 30 December 2015

    Good question, Haley. Judging from the lyrics, I could imagine something joyous, triumphant, maybe a little bombastic, rather like the ode to Zeus from Mikis Theodorakis' Canto Olympico. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1yMm2e9dOU

    But something with a note of tenderness, too. After all, it's a song about a birth.

  • Haley
    Haley Thursday, 31 December 2015

    But, of course! Thank you.

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