Hyacinthus, the fairest of youths, was a young Spartan prince loved by men and gods.
Thamyris the first male to love other males, fell in love with Hyakinthos. When Apollo saw the boy, he was seized with love for him, and would not leave him (Thessalian's version).
They were just playing a game with no rivalry between them. Apollo hurled the discus with his mighty strength and set it flying through the air.
Zephyr, the West Wind, was also in love with the handsome prince.
In a fit of jealous rage, as the prince preferred the sun god to him, he blew upon the discus and made it strike Hyacinth.
The god was horror-struck to see blood gushed forth and the lad, deathly pale, fell to the ground. Apollo tried desperately to staunch the blood flowing from the wound but it was all in vain. He cried out "Oh, if only I could pay for my deed
by joining you in your journey to the cheerless realms of the
dead. Oh, why am I cursed to live forever?"
A fragrant red flower rose from Hyacinth's
blood and on its petals you can still
read the letters "Ay," the sigh of pain that rose from
Apollo's breast.
No comments:
Post a Comment