The Nursery Rhyme

Ciericati_Ceiling

“Hey Didal, Didal
Mew with your fiddle
Of the cow thrown over the Moon
Whose dogs howled
To see her fouled
Since Discia ran away from Typhoon!”, shouted the child as she ran into the workshop.

“Ha, Ha. Aren’t you a bit old for stories? And don’t call me Didal,” muttered Daedalus as he bent over his workbench.

“But I like your stories. Especially this one and you haven’t told it in a while,” pleaded the girl.

“Why should I little one? You know it by heart. Besides, didn’t I just hear Cleitus sing it last night?”

“Please?! It is so much better when you tell it. He does not tell it half so well as you!”

“Well I suppose, but you will have to listen without my “fiddle” as I must work while I talk.” He glanced up from his project in time to see the child reach up to grab something that caught her eye on the table. “Touch that and there will be no tale.”

The child quickly put her hands behind her back and stepped away from the table, away from temptation, eager to hear her favorite tale.

“Now how does it go?” he muttered, dropping a tool at his feet.

The child quickly ran over and picked it up, prompting him with “Typhoon, a giant born of his mother’s anger…”

“Ah yes. Thank you.” Taking the tool from her, he said, “Are you sure you don’t want to tell me the tale?”

“No, No. Please, Daedalus, please?!”

“Ok, Ok. Typhoon a giant born of his mother’s anger…”

“Because Zeus bore Athene…” pipes up the young voice.

“Who is telling this tale again?”

“Sorry. I’ll be quiet,” said the girl as she sat at his feet.

“Typhoon, a giant born
of his mother’s anger
of his mother’s revenge
for the daughter begot
by her husband alone.
Typhoon was fair of face
but of such bad temper
that he appeared monstrous
to all on the heavenly plane.
So gifted, he was, to Echidna
Mother of all Monsters
to raise as she saw fit
which is to say
his upbringing did nothing
to improve upon his temper.
In a nearby village
there was a maiden
lovely of form and face
called Discia, daughter
of a discus maker.
Typhoon was in love
with the gentle maiden
who found him terrifying.
One festival evening,
Typhoon made his way
with flowers and gifts
to woo the timid girl.
By Selene’s lamp,
he found her in a glade
not alone, but with another
a lover, unknown.
Roaring with anger,
Typhoon rampages
set to kill his rival
only to trip upon
a moon-shadowed root
hitting his head
consciousness fled
allowing for escape.
The lovers gone,
never to be seen again.
Typhoon mourned
the loss of his love
and bore a grudge
blaming bright Selene
for the loss of his hopes.
The next time he saw Mene
he was wiping the sweat
from his fevered brow
as he cussed and guided
the oxen pulled plow.
He glancing upwards
to see a silvered chariot
gliding across the heavens.
Its horned charioteer
beautiful to behold.
Anger in his giant’s heart
fueled his enormous strength.
Bellowing Typhoon grabbed
the ox from the plough tree
threw it at his offender.
The cow flew so high
it sailed over the moon
startling her in her course
causing hounds to bay
in confusion and distress.
From this day forward
until subdued by Zeus
many a bovine was lost
as Typhoon tried to knock
Selene out of the sky.”

Daedalus finished his task as his story ended.  He looked up in time to see the girl galloping out the door.  Just as she left his sight, he heard a clanging noise.  One of the servants muttered darkly as the child yelled, “You missed Typhoon!  Again!”

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