Greek Anthology Books 1-6

ToposText · Greek Anthology · 820 sections

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§ 5.49 GALLUS Lyde, who serves three men to one end, one above the belly, one below, one behind: “I'll take a pederast, a womanizer, a pervert. If you're in a hurry, and arrive with two others, you won't have to wait.”
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§ 5.50 Anonymous Poverty and Love are my two woes. Poverty I will bear easily, but the fire of Cypris I cannot.
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§ 5.51 Anonymous I fell in love, I kissed, I was favoured, I enjoyed, I am loved; but who am I, and who is she, and how it befel, Cypris alone knows.
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§ 5.52 DIOSCORIDES To Love we offered the vow we made together; by an oath Arsinoe and Sosipater plighted their troth. But false is she, and her oath was vain, while his love survives, and yet the gods have not manifested their might. For a wedding song, Hymen, chant a dirge at her door, rebuking her faithless bed.
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§ 5.53 DIOSCORIDES Winning Aristonoe wounded me, dear Adonis, tearing her breasts by thy bier. If she will do me the same honour, when I die, I hesitate not; take me away with thee on thy voyage.
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§ 5.54 DIOSCORIDES Don't take her pregnant to your bed to enjoy child-begetting Love face to face. For in the middle is a great wave and you will be not a little trouble, when she is being rowed and you are going up and down. But turn her over and enjoy her rosy bottom, pretending it is sex with a man-child bedmate.
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§ 5.55 DIOSCORIDES Stretching out rosy-bottomed Doris above the bed I became immortal in the lush blossoms. For she straddled my middle with her preternatural feet and unswerving traversed the long race course of the Cyprian, gazing with sleepy eyes while they like ruddy leaves in the wind trembled as she oscillated up and down, until the white strength was poured out on both and Doris was spent, with quivering limbs.
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§ 5.56 DIOSCORIDES They drive me mad, those rosy prattling lips, soul-melting portals of the ambrosial mouth, and the eyes that flash under thick eyebrows, nets and traps of my heart, and those milky paps well-mated, full of charm, fairly formed, more delightful than any flower. But why am I pointing out bones to dogs? Midas' reeds testify to what befalls taletellers.
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§ 5.57 MELEAGER Love, if thou burnest too often my scorched soul, she will fly away; she too, cruel boy, has wings.
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§ 5.58 ARCHIAS Little Love, thou layest me waste of a truth; empty all thy quiver on me, leave not an arrow. So shalt thou slay me alone with thy shafts, and when thou wouldst shoot at another, thou shalt not find wherewith.
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§ 5.59 ARCHIAS You say “one should fly from Love.” It is labour lost; how shall I on foot escape from a winged creature that pursues me close?
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§ 5.60 RUFINUS The silver-footed maiden was bathing, letting the water fall on the golden apples of her breast, smooth like curdled milk. Her rounded buttocks, their flesh more fluid than water, rolled and tossed as she moved. Her outspread hand covered swelling Eurotas, not the whole but as much as it could.
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§ 5.61 RUFINUS Playing at Condax with dark-eyed Philippa I made her laugh sweetly with all her heart. “I have thrown you,” I said, “twelve, and tomorrow I will throw you another twelve or even more, as I know how.” Then when she was told she came, and laughing I said to her “I wish I had called you at night too when you were coming.”
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§ 5.62 RUFINUS Time has not yet quenched your beauty, but many relics of your prime survive. Your charm has not aged, nor has the loveliness departed from your bright apples or your rose. Ah! how many hearts did that once god-like beauty burn to ashes!
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§ 5.63 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS Antigone, I used to think you were Sicilian, but now you have become an Aetolian I have become a Mede.
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§ 5.64 ASCLEPIADES Snow, hail, make darkness, lighten, thunder, shake out upon the earth all thy black clouds! If thou slayest me, then I shall cease, but if thou lettest me live, though I pass through worse than this, I will go with music to her doors; for the god compels me who is thy master too, Zeus, he at whose bidding thou, turned to gold, didst pierce the brazen chamber.
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§ 5.65 Anonymous Zeus came as an eagle to god-like Ganymede, as a swan came he to the fair-haired mother of Helen. So there is no comparison between the two things; one person likes one, another likes the other; I like both.
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§ 5.66 RUFINUS Finding Prodike happily alone, I besought her, and clasping her ambrosial knees, “Save,” I said “a man who is nearly lost, and grant me the little breath that has not left me.” When I said this, she wept, but wiped away the tears and with her tender hands gently repulsed me.
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§ 5.67 CAPITO Beauty without charm only pleases us, but does not hold us; it is like a bait floating without a hook.
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§ 5.68 LUCILIUS or POLEMO OF PONTUS Either put an entire stop to loving, Eros, or else add being loved, so that you may either abolish desire or temper it.
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§ 5.69 RUFINUS When Pallas and golden-sandalled Hera looked on Maeonis, they both cried out from their hearts: “We will not strip again; one decision of the shepherd is enough; it is a disgrace to be worsted twice in the contest of beauty.”
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§ 5.70 RUFINUS Thou hast the beauty of Cypris, the mouth of Peitho, the form and freshness of the spring Horae, the voice of Calliope, the wisdom and virtue of Themis, the skill of Athene. With thee, my beloved, the Graces are four.
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§ 5.71 PALLADAS OF ALEXANDRIA Zenon, since you have married the daughter of Protomachus (first in fight) and of Nicomache (conquering in fight) you have war in your house. Search for a kind seducer, a Lysimachus (deliverer from fight) who will take pity on you and deliver you from Andromache (husband-fighter) the daughter of Protomachus.
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§ 5.72 PALLADAS OF ALEXANDRIA This is life, and nothing else is; life is delight; away, dull care! Brief are the years of man. To-day wine is ours, and the dance, and flowery wreaths, and women. To-day let me live well; none knows what may be tomorrow.
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§ 5.73 RUFINUS Ye gods! I knew not that Cytherea was bathing, releasing with her hands her hair to fall upon her neck. Have mercy on me, my queen, and be not wrath with my eyes that have looked on thy immortal form. Now I see! It is Rhodoclea and not Cypris. Then whence this beauty! Thou, it would seem, hast despoiled the goddess.
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§ 5.74 RUFINUS I send thee this garland, Rhodoclea, that with my own hands I wove out of beautiful flowers. There are lilies and roses and dewy anemones, and tender narcissus and purple-gleaming violets. Wear it and cease to be vain. Both thou and the garland flower and fade.
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§ 5.75 RUFINUS Know Aphrodite that Amymone, a young girl, was my neighbour and set my heart on fire not a little. She herself would jest with me, and whenever I had the opportunity I grew venturesome. She used to blush. Well! that did not help matters; she felt the pang. With great pains I succeeded; I am told now that she is with child. So what am I to do, be off or remain?
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§ 5.76 RUFINUS Once her complexion was lovely, her breasts like the spring-tide; all were good, her ankles, her height, her forehead, her hair. But time and old age and grey locks have wrought a change and now she is not the shadow of her former self, but wears false hair and has a wrinkled face, uglier even than an old monkey's.
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§ 5.77 RUFINUS If women had as much charm when all is over as before, men would never tire of intercourse with their wives, but all women are displeasing then.
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§ 5.78 PLATO My soul was on my lips as I was kissing Agathon. Poor soul! she came hoping to cross over to him.
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§ 5.79 PLATO I throw the apple at thee, and thou, if thou lovest me from thy heart, take it and give me of thy maidenhead; but if thy thoughts be what I pray they are not, take it still and reflect how short-lived is beauty.
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§ 5.80 PLATO I am an apple; one who loves thee throws me at thee. But consent, Xanthippe; both thou and I decay.
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§ 5.81 DIONYSIUS THE SOPHIST You with the roses, rosy is your charm; but what do you sell, yourself or the roses, or both?
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§ 5.82 Anonymous Proud waitress of the bath, why dost thou bathe me so fiercely? Before I have stripped I feel the fire.
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§ 5.83 Anonymous Oh, would I were the wind, that walking on the shore thou mightest bare thy bosom and take me to thee as I blow.
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§ 5.84 Anonymous Oh, would I were a pink rose, that thy hand might pluck me to give to thy snowy breasts.
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§ 5.85 ASCLEPIADES Thou grudgest thy maidenhead? What avails it? When thou goest to Hades thou shalt find none to love thee there. The joys of Love are in the land of the living, but in Acheron, dear virgin, we shall lie dust and ashes.
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§ 5.86 CLAUDIANUS Have mercy on me, dear Phoebus; for thou, drawer of the swift bow, wast wounded by the swift arrows of Love.
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§ 5.87 RUFINUS Melissias denies she is in love, but her body cries aloud that it has received a whole quiverful of arrows. Unsteady is her step and she takes her breath in snatches, and there are dark purple hollows under her eyes. But, ye Loves, by your mother, fairwreathed Cytherea, burn the rebellious maid, till she cry, “I am burning! ”
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§ 5.88 RUFINUS Fire-bearer Love, if thou canst not set two equally alight, put out or transfer the flame that burns in one.
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§ 5.89 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS That is not love if one, trusting his judicious eyes, wishes to possess a beauty. But he who seeing a homely face is pierced by the arrows and loves, set alight by fury of the heart — that is love, that is fire; for beauty delights equally all who are good judges of form.
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§ 5.90 Anonymous I send thee sweet perfume, ministering to scent with scent, even as one who to Bacchus offers the flowing gift of Bacchus.
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§ 5.91 Anonymous I send thee sweet perfume, not so much honouring thee as it; for thou canst perfume the perfume.
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§ 5.92 RUFINUS Rhodope is exalted by her beauty, and if I chance to say “Good day,” salutes me only with her proud eyebrows. If I ever hang garlands over her door, she crushes them under her haughty heels in her wrath. Come quicker, wrinkles and pitiless old age; make haste. Do you at least unbend Rhodope.
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§ 5.93 RUFINUS I have armed my breast with wisdom against Love; nor will he conquer, if it be a single combat. I, a mortal, will stand up against an immortal. But if he has Bacchus to help him, what can I alone against two?
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§ 5.94 RUFINUS Thou hast Hera's eyes, Melite, and Athene's hands, the breasts of Aphrodite, and the feet of Thetis. Blessed is he who looks on thee, thrice blessed he who hears thee talk, a demigod he who kisses thee, and a god he who takes thee to wife.
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§ 5.95 Anonymous Four are the Graces, there are two Aphrodites and ten Muses. Dercylis is one of all, a Grace, an Aphrodite, and a Muse.
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§ 5.96 MELEAGER Timarion, thy kiss is bird-lime, thy eyes are fire. If thou lookest at me, thou burnest, if thou touchest me, thou hast caught me fast.
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§ 5.97 RUFINUS Love, if thou aimest thy bow at both of us impartially thou art a god, but if thou favourest one, no god art thou.
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§ 5.98 ARCHIAS or Anonymous Prepare thy bow, Cypris, and find at thy leisure another target; for I have no room at all left for a wound.
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§ 5.99 Anonymous I would like, Lyre-singer, standing beside you, to pluck the top string and loosen the middle one.
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§ 5.100 Anonymous If anyone blame me because, a skilled servant of Love, I go to the chase, my eyes armed with birdlime to catch ladies, let him know that Zeus and Hades and the Lord of the Sea were slaves of violent desire. If the gods are such and they bid men follow their example, what wrong do I do in learning their deeds?
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§ 5.101 Anonymous He. Good day, my dear. She. Good day. He. Who is she who is walking in front of you? She. What is that to you? He. I have a reason for asking. She. My mistress. He. May I hope? She. What do you want? He. A night. She. What have you for her? He. Gold. She. Then take heart. He. So much {shewing the amount). She. You can't.
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§ 5.102 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS “You will see Dioclea, a rather slim little Venus, but blessed with a sweet disposition.” “Then there won't be much between us, but falling on her thin bosom I will lie all the nearer to her heart.”
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§ 5.103 RUFINUS For how long, Prodice, shall I weep at thy door? Till when shall thy hard heart be deaf to my prayers? Already the grey hairs begin to invade thee, and soon thou shalt give thyself to me as Hecuba to Priam.
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§ 5.104 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS Take off these nets, Lysidice, you tease, and don't roll your hips on purpose, as you walk. The folds of your thin dress cling well to you, and all your charms are visible as if naked, and yet are invisible. If this seems amusing to you, I will cover myself and my erection in linen.
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§ 5.105 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS The cosmos of Menophila is called one thing by wanton women, another thing when she tastes of mixed company. Hurry near her, Chaldaeans, for her sky has both Dog and Twins in it.
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§ 5.106 DIOTIMUS OF MILETUS Granny, dear nurse, why do you bark at me when I approach; and cast me into torments twice as cruel. You accompany a lovely girl, and look how treading in her steps I go my own way, only gazing at her sweet form. Why be jealous of eyes, ill-fated nurse? We are allowed to look on the forms of even the immortals.
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§ 5.107 PHILODEMUS “I know, charming lady, how to love him who loves me, and again I know right well how to bite him who bites me. Do not vex too much one who loves thee, or try to provoke the heavy wrath of the Muses.” So I ever cried to thee and warned, but thou didst hearken to my words no more than the Ionian Sea. So now thou sobbest sorely and complainest, while I sit in Naias' lap.
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§ 5.108 CRINAGORAS {Epitaph on a lady called Prote) Unhappy! what first shall I say, what last? Unhappy! that is the essence of all woe. Thou art gone, O lovely lady, excelling in the beauty of thy body, in the sweetness of thy soul. Rightly they named thee Prote (First): for all was second to the peerless charm that was thine.
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§ 5.109 ANTIPATER OF THESSALONICA You can have the Attic Europa for a drachma with none to fear and no opposition on her part, and she has perfectly clean sheets and a fire in winter. It was quite superfluous for you, dear Zeus, to turn into a bull.
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§ 5.110 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS Pour in ten ladles of Lysidice, cup-bearer, and of charming Euphrante give me one ladle. You will say I love Lysidice best. No! I swear by sweet Bacchus, whom I drain from this cup. But Euphrante is as one to ten. Doth not the light of the moon that is single overcome that of countless stars?
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§ 5.111 ANTIPHILUS I said even formerly, when Tereina's charms were yet infantile, “She will consume us all when she grows up.” They laughed at my prophecy: but lo! the time I once foretold is come, and for long I suffer myself from the wound. What am I to do? To look on her is pure fire, and to look away is trouble of heart, and if I pay my suit to her, it is “I am a maid.” All is over with me.
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§ 5.112 PHILODEMUS I loved. Who hath not? I made revels in her honour. Who is uninitiated in those mysteries? But I was distraught. By whom? Was it not by a god? — Good-bye to it; for already the grey locks hurry on to replace the black, and tell me I have reached the age of discretion. While it was playtime I played; now it is over I will turn to more worthy thoughts.
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§ 5.113 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS You fell in love, Sosicrates, when rich; now you are poor, you are in love no longer. What an admirable cure is hunger! And Menophila, who used to call you her sweety and her darling Adonis, now asks your name. “What man art thou, and whence, thy city where? ” You have perforce learnt the meaning of the saying, “None is the friend of him who has nothing.”
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§ 5.114 MAECIUS That persistently cruel Philistion, who never tolerated an admirer unless he had money, seems less insufferable now than formerly. It is not a great miracle her seeming so, but I don't believe her nature is changed. The unfeeling asp grows tamer at times, but when it bites, it always means death.
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§ 5.115 PHILODEMUS I fell in love with Demo of Paphos — nothing surprising in that: and again with Demo of Samos — well that was not so remarkable: and thirdly with Demo of Naxos — then the matter ceased to be a joke: and in the fourth place with Demo of Argos. The Fates themselves seem to have christened me Philodeme; as I always feel ardent desire for some Demo.
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§ 5.116 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS The love of women is best for those men who are serious in their attachments. But if you are also fond of male desire, I know the cure by which you conquer this morbid ailment. Turn over Menophile with the beautiful hips and pretend you have the male Menophilus in your embrace.
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§ 5.117 MAECIUS Cornelius' beauty melts me; but I fear this flame, which is already becoming a fierce fire.
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§ 5.118 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS Isias, though thy perfumed breath be ten times sweeter than spikenard, awake, and take this garland in thy dear hands. Now it is blooming, but as dawn approaches thou wilt see it fading, a symbol of thine own fresh youth.
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§ 5.119 CRINAGORAS Crinagoras, though thou tossest now to the left, now to the right on thy empty bed, unless lovely Gemella lie by thee, thy rest will bring thee no sleep, but only weariness.
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§ 5.120 PHILODEMUS By midnight, eluding my husband, and drenched by the heavy rain, I came. And do we then sit idle, not talking and sleeping, as lovers ought to sleep?
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§ 5.121 By the same Philaenion is short and rather too dark, but her hair is more curled than parsley, and her skin is more tender than down: there is more magic in her voice than in the cestus of Venus, and she never refuses me anything and often refrains from begging for a present. Such a Philaenion grant me, golden Cypris, to love, until I find another more perfect.
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§ 5.122 DIODORUS Son of illustrious Megistocles, I beseech thee, not even though he seem to thee more precious than thy two eyes, though he be glowing from the bath of the Graces, hum not around the lovely boy. Neither gentle nor simple-hearted is he, but courted by many, and no novice in love. Beware, my friend, and fan not the flame.
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§ 5.123 PHILODEMOS Shine, Moon of the night, horned Moon, who lovest to look on revels, shine through the lattice and let thy light fall on golden Callistion. It is no offence for an immortal to pry into the secrets of lovers. Thou dost bless her and me, I know, O Moon; for did not Endymion set thy soul afire?
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§ 5.124 PHILODEMOS Thy summer's flower hath not yet burst from the bud, the grape that puts forth its first virgin charm is yet green, but already the young Loves sharpen their swift arrows, Lysidice, and a hidden fire is smouldering. Let us fly, we unlucky lovers, before the arrow is on the string. I foretell right soon a vast conflagration.
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§ 5.125 BASSUS I am never going to turn into gold, and let some one else become a bull or the melodious swan of the shore. Such tricks I leave to Zeus, and instead of becoming a bird I will give Corinna my two obols.
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§ 5.126 PHILODEMUS So-and-so gives so-and-so five talents for once, and possesses her in fear and trembling, and, by Heaven, she is not even pretty. I give Lysianassa five drachmas for twelve times, and she is better looking, and there is no secret about it. Either I have lost my wits, or they ought to take off his twin parts with an axe.
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§ 5.127 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS I was very fond of a young girl called Alcippe, and once, having succeeded in persuading her, I brought her secretly to my room. Both our hearts were beating, lest any superfluous person should surprise us and witness our secret love. But her mother overheard her talk, and looking in suddenly, said, “We go shares, my daughter.”
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§ 5.128 MARCUS ARGENTARIUS Breast to breast supporting my bosom on hers, and pressing her sweet lips to mine I clasped Antigone close with naught between us. Touching the rest, of which the lamp was entered as witness, I am silent.
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§ 5.129 AUTOMEDON The dancing-girl from Asia who executes those lascivious postures, quivering from her tender fingertips, I praise not because she can express all variations of passion, or because she moves her soft arms so softly this way and that, but because she knows how to dance around a worn stake and does not flee the wrinkles of old age. She tongues, tickles, embraces; if she throws a leg on top she brings your club back up from Hades.
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§ 5.130 MAECIUS Why so gloomy, and what do these untidy ruffled locks mean, Philaenis, and those eyes suffused with tears? Did you see your lover with a rival on his lap? Tell me; I know a cure for sorrow. You cry, but don't confess; in vain you seek to deny; eyes are more to be trusted than the tongue.
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§ 5.131 PHILODEMUS Xanthippe's touch on the lyre, and her talk, and her speaking eyes, and her singing, and the fire that is just alight, will burn thee, my heart, but from what beginning or when or how I know not. Thou, unhappy heart, shalt know when thou art smouldering.
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§ 5.132 PHILODEMUS O feet, O legs, O thighs for which I justly died, O buttocks, O pubis, O flanks, O shoulders, O breasts, O slender neck, O arms, O eyes I am mad for, O accomplished movement, O admirable kisses, O exclamations that excite! If she is Italian and her name is Flora and she does not sing Sappho, yet Perseus was in love with Indian Andromeda.
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§ 5.133 MAECIUS By thy majesty, Cytherea, I swore to keep away two nights from Hedylion, and knowing the complaint of my poor heart, methinks thou didst smile. For I will not support the second, and I cast my oath to the winds. I choose rather to be impious to thee for her sake than by keeping my oath to thee to die of piety.
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§ 5.134 POSEIDIPPUS Shower on us, O Attic jug, the dewy rain of Bacchus; shower it and refresh our merry picnic. Let Zeno, the learned swan, be kept silent, and Cleanthes' Muse, and let our converse be of Love the bitter-sweet.
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§ 5.135 Anonymous To his Jug Round, well-moulded, one-eared, long-necked, babbling with thy little mouth, merry waitress of Bacchus and the Muses and Cytherea, sweetly-laughing treasuress of our club, why when I am sober are you full and when I get tipsy do you become sober? You don't keep the laws of conviviality.
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§ 5.136 MELEAGER To the Cup-bearer Fill up the cup and say again, again, again, “Heliodora's.” Speak the sweet name, temper the wine with but that alone. And give me, though it be yesternight's, the garland dripping with scent to wear in memory of her. Look how the rose that favours Love is weeping, because it sees her elsewhere and not in my bosom.
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§ 5.137 MELEAGER To the Cup-bearer One ladle for Heliodora Peitho and one for Heliodora Cypris and one for Heliodora, the Grace sweet of speech. For I describe her as one goddess, whose beloved name I mix in the wine to drink.
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§ 5.138 DIOSCORIDES Athenion sang “The Horse ” an evil horse for me. All Troy was in flames and I burning with it. I had braved the ten years' effort of the Greeks, but in that one blaze the Trojans and I perished.
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§ 5.139 MELEAGER Sweet is the melody, by Pan of Arcadia, that thou strikest from thy lyre, Zenophila; yea, by Pan, passing sweet is thy touch. Whither shall I fly from thee? The Loves encompass me about, and give me not even a little time to take breath; for either Beauty throws desire at me, or the Muse, or the Grace or — what shall I say? All of these! I burn with fire.
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§ 5.140 MELEAGER The melodious Muses, giving skill to thy touch, and Peitho endowing thy speech with wisdom, and Eros guiding thy beauty aright, invested thee, Zenophila, with the sovereignty of the Loves, since the Graces three gave thee three Graces.
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§ 5.141 MELEAGER By Love I swear, I had rather hear Heliodora's whisper in my ear than the harp of the son of Leto.
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§ 5.142 Anonymous Which is it? is the garland the rose of Dionysius, or is he the garland's rose? I think the garland is less lovely.
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§ 5.143 MELEAGER The flowers are fading that crown Heliodora's brow, but she glows brighter and crowns the wreath.
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§ 5.144 MELEAGER Already the white violet is in flower and narcissus that loves the rain, and the lilies that haunt the hillside, and already she is in bloom, Zenophila, love's darling, the sweet rose of Persuasion, flower of the flowers of spring. Why laugh ye joyously, ye meadows, vainglorious for your bright tresses? More to be preferred than all sweet-smelling posies is she.
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§ 5.145 ASCLEPIADES Abide here, my garlands, where I hang ye by this door, nor shake off your leaves in haste, for I have watered you with my tears — rainy are the eyes of lovers. But when the door opens and ye see him, shed my rain on his head, that at least his fair hair may drink my tears.
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§ 5.146 CALLIMACHUS The Graces are four, for beside those three standeth a new-erected one, still dripping with scent, blessed Berenice, envied by all, and without whom not even the Graces are Graces.
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§ 5.147 MELEAGER I will plait in white violets and tender narcissus mid myrtle berries, I will plait laughing lilies too and sweet crocus and purple hyacinths and the roses that take joy in love, so that the wreath set on Heliodora's brow, Heliodora with the scented curls, may scatter flowers on her lovely hair.
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§ 5.148 MELEAGER I foretell that one day in story sweet-spoken Heliodora will surpass by her Graces the Graces themselves.

Via ToposText (topostext.org), a project of the Aikaterini Laskaridis Foundation created by Brady Kiesling. Translated by William Roger Paton (1857-1921). Composed ca. 900 CE. Licence: public domain. Source.