When I pray to Dionysus, as one does, I like to use the Orphic Hymn dedicated to them. (I use the Thomas Taylor translation because things in poetic meter are easier to memorize.)
This is my favorite line: “Give me in blameless plenty to rejoice.”
This one hits hard in a capitalist society, where even our hobbies are supposed to be “productive,” and we’re made to feel bad for relaxing and having down-time.
This is Dionysus’ gift to his supplicants; to enjoy blameless plenty, to not feel bad about indulging yourself, to have some time that you're not weighed down by your responsibilities.
To the eternal enby of euphoria, Io Dionysus!
“Dionysos I call, loud-sounding and divine,
fanatic God, a two-fold shape is thine:
Thy various names and attributes I sing,
O, first-born, thrice begotten, Bacchic king:
Rural, ineffable, two-form'd, obscure,
two-horn'd, with ivy crown'd, euion, pure.
Bull-fac'd, and martial, bearer of the vine,
endu'd with counsel prudent and divine:
Triennial, whom the leaves of vines adorn,
of Jove and Proserpine, occultly born.
Immortal dæmon, hear my suppliant voice,
give me in blameless plenty to rejoice;
And listen gracious to my mystic pray'r,
surrounded with thy choir of nurses fair.”
-Orphic Hymn 29, translated by Thomas Taylor
