Greek Anthology Books 1-6

ToposText · Greek Anthology · 820 sections

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§ 5.149 MELEAGER Who pointed Zenophila out to me, my talkative mistress? Who brought to me one of the three Graces? He really did a graceful deed, giving me a present and throwing in the Grace herself gratis.
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§ 5.150 ASCLEPIADES The celebrated Nico promised to come to me for to-night and swore by solemn Demeter. She comes not and the first watch of night is past. Did she mean then to forswear herself? Servants, put out the light.
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§ 5.151 MELEAGER Ye shrill-voiced mosquitoes, ye shameless pick, suckers of men's blood, Night's winged beasts of prey, let Zenophila, I beseech ye, sleep a little in peace, and come and devour these my limbs. But why do I supplicate in vain? Even pitiless wild beasts rejoice in the warmth of her tender body. But I give ye early warning, cursed creatures: no more of this audacity, or ye shall feel the strength of jealous hands.
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§ 5.152 MELEAGER Fly for me, mosquito, swiftly on my message, and lighting on the rim of Zenophila's ear whisper thus into it: “He lies awake expecting thee, and thou sleepest, O thou sluggard, who forgettest those who love thee.” Whrr! away! yea, sweet piper, away! But speak lowly to her, lest thou awake her companion of the night and arouse jealousy of me to pain her. But if thou bringest me the girl, I will hood thy head, mosquito, with the lion's skin and give thee a club to carry in thy hand.
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§ 5.153 ASCLEPIADES Nicarete's sweet face, bathed by the Loves, peeping often from her high casement, was blasted, dear Cypris, by the flame that lightened from the sweet blue eyes of Cleophon, standing by her door,
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§ 5.154 MELEAGER By Cypris, swimming through the blue waves, Tryphera is truly by right of her beauty try ph era (delicate).
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§ 5.155 MELEAGER Within my heart Love himself fashioned sweetspoken Heliodora, soul of my soul.
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§ 5.156 MELEAGER Love-loving Asclepias, with her clear blue eyes, like summer seas, persuadeth all to make the love-voyage.
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§ 5.157 MELEAGER Love made it grow and sharpened it, Heliodora's finger-nail; for her light scratching reaches to the heart.
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§ 5.158 ASCLEPIADES I played once with captivating Hermione, and she wore, O Paphian Queen, a zone of many colours bearing letters of gold; all round it was written, “Love me and be not sore at heart if I am another's.”
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§ 5.159 SIMONIDES Boidion, the flute-player, and Pythias, both most lovable once upon a time, dedicate to thee, Cypris, these zones and pictures. Merchant and skipper, thy purse knows whence the zones and whence the pictures.
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§ 5.160 MELEAGER White-cheeked Demo, some one hath thee naked next him and is taking his delight, but my own heart groans within me. If thy lover is some Sabbath-keeper no great wonder! Love burns hot even on cold Sabbaths.
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§ 5.161 HEDYLUS or ASCLEPIADES Euphro, Thais and Boidion, Diomede's old women, the twenty-oared transports of ship-captains, have cast ashore, one apiece, naked and worse off than shipwrecked mariners, Agis, Cleophon and Antagoras. But fly from Aphrodite's corsairs and their ships; they are worse foes than the Sirens.
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§ 5.162 ASCLEPIADES Cruel Philaenion has bitten me; though the bite does not show, the pain reaches to my finger-tips. Dear Loves, I am gone,'tis over with me, I am past hope; for half-asleep I trod upon a whore, I know it, and her touch was death.
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§ 5.163 MELEAGER O flower-nurtured bee, why dost thou desert the buds of spring and light on Heliodora's skin? Is it that thou wouldst signify that she hath both sweets and the sting of Love, ill to bear and ever bitter to the heart? Yea, meseems, this is what thou sayest. “Off with thee back to thy flowers, thou flirt! It is stale news thou bringest me.”
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§ 5.164 ASCLEPIADES Night, for I call thee alone to witness, look how shamefully Nico's Pythias, ever loving to deceive, treats me. I came at her call and not uninvited. May she one day stand at my door and complain to thee that she suffered the like at my hands.
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§ 5.165 MELEAGER. Mother of all the gods, dear Night, one thing I beg, yea I pray to thee, holy Night, companion of my revels. If some one lies cosy beneath Heliodora's mantle, warmed by her body's touch that cheateth sleep, let the lamp close its eyes and let him, cradled on her bosom, lie there a second Endymion.
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§ 5.166 By the same O night, O longing for Heliodora that keepest me awake, O tormenting visions of the dawn full of tears and joy, is there any relic left of her love for me? Is the memory of my kiss still warm in the cold ashes of fancy? Has she no bed-fellow but her tears and does she clasp to her bosom and kiss the cheating dream of me? Or is there another new love, new dalliance? Mayst thou never look on this, dear lamp; but guard her well whom I committed to thy care.
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§ 5.167 ASCLEPIADES It was night, it was raining, and, love's third burden, I was in wine; the north wind blew cold and I was alone. But lovely Moschus overpowered all. “Would thou didst wander so, and didst not rest at one door.” So much I exclaimed there, drenched through. “How long Zeus? Peace, dear Zeus! Thou too didst learn to love.”
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§ 5.168 Anonymous Hurl fire and snow upon me, and if thou wilt, strike me with thy bolt, or sweep me to the cliffs or to the deep. For he who is worn out by battle with Desire and utterly overcome by Love, feels not even the blast of Jove's fire.
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§ 5.169 ASCLEPIADES Sweet in summer a draught of snow to him who thirsts, and sweet for sailors after winter's storms to feel the Zephyr of the spring. But sweeter still when one cloak doth cover two lovers and Cypris hath honour from both
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§ 5.170 NOSSIS “Nothing is sweeter than love; all delightful things are second to it, and even the honey I spat from my mouth.” Thus saith Nossis, but if there be one whom Cypris hath not kissed, she at least knows not what flowers roses are.
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§ 5.171 MELEAGER The wine-cup feels sweet joy and tells me how it touches the prattling mouth of Zenophila the friend of love. Happy cup! Would she would set her lips to mine and drink up my soul at one draught.
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§ 5.172 MELEAGER Why dost thou, Morning Star, the foe of love, look down on my bed so early, just as I lie warm in dear Demo's arms? Would that thou couldst reverse thy swift course and be the Star of Eve again, thou whose sweet rays fall on me most bitter. Once of old, when he lay with Alcmena, thou didst turn back in sight of Zeus; thou art not unpractised in returning on thy track.
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§ 5.173 MELEAGER O Morning-star, the foe of love, slowly dost thou revolve around the world, now that another lies warm beneath Demo's mantle. But when my slender love lay in my bosom, quickly thou earnest to stand over us, as if shedding on me a light that rejoiced at my grief.
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§ 5.174 MELEAGER Thou sleepest, Zenophila, tender flower. Would I were Sleep, though wingless, to creep under thy lashes, so that not even he who lulls the eyes of Zeus, might visit thee, but I might have thee all to myself.
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§ 5.175 MELEAGER I know thy oath is void, for they betray thy wantonness, these locks still moist with scented essences. They betray thee, thy eyes all heavy for want of sleep, and the garland's track all round thy head. Thy ringlets are in unchaste disorder all freshly touzled, and all thy limbs are tottering with the wine. Away from me, public woman; they are calling thee, the lyre that loves the revel and the clatter of the castanets rattled by the fingers.
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§ 5.176 MELEAGER Dreadful is Love, dreadful! But what avails it though I say it again and yet again and with many a sigh, “ Love is dreadful ”? For verily the boy laughs at this, and delights in being ever reproached, and if I curse, he even grows apace. It is a wonder to me, Cypris, how thou, who didst rise from the green sea, didst bring forth fire from water.
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§ 5.177 MELEAGER The town-crier is supposed to speak Lost! Love, wild Love! Even now at dawn he went his way, taking wing from his bed. The boy is thus, — sweetly-tearful, ever chattering, quick and impudent, laughing with a sneer, with wings on his back, and a quiver slung on it. As for his father's name I can't give it you; for neither Sky nor Earth nor Sea confess to the rascal's parentage. For everywhere and by all he is hated; but look to it in case he is setting now new springes for hearts. But wait! there he is near his nest! Ah! little archer, so you thought to hide from me there in Zenophila's eyes!
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§ 5.178 MELEAGER Sell it! though it is still sleeping on its mother's breast. Sell it! why should I bring up such a little devil? For it is snub-nosed, and has little wings, and scratches lightly with its nails, and while it is crying often begins to laugh. Besides, it is impossible to suckle it; it is always chattering and has the keenest of eyes, and it is savage and even its dear mother can't tame it. It is a monster all round; so it shall be sold. If any trader who is just leaving wants to buy a baby, let him come hither. But look! it is supplicating, all in tears. Well! I will not sell thee then. Be not afraid; thou shalt stay here to keep Zenophila company.
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§ 5.179 MELEAGER By Cypris, Love, I will throw them all in the fire, thy bow and Scythian quiver charged with arrows. Yea, I will burn them, by —. Why laugh so sillily and snicker, turning up thy nose? I will soon make thee laugh to another tune. I will cut those rapid wings that show Desire the way, and chain thy feet with brazen fetters. But a sorry victory shall I gain if I chain thee next my heart, like a wolf by a sheep -fold. No! be off! thou art ill to conquer; take besides these light, winged shoes, and spreading thy swift wings go visit others.
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§ 5.180 MELEAGER What wonder if murderous Love shoots those arrows that breathe fire, and laughs bitterly with cruel eyes! Is not Ares his mother's lover, and Hephaestus her lord, the fire and the sword sharing her? And his mother's mother the Sea, does she not roar savagely flogged by the winds? And his father has neither name nor pedigree. So hath he Hephaestus' fire, and yearns for anger like the waves, and loveth Ares' shafts dipped in blood.
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§ 5.181 ASCLEPIADES Buy us some... (but when will he come?) and five rose wreaths. — Why do you say “pax ”? You say you have no change! We are ruined; won't someone string up the Lapith beast! I have a brigand not a servant. So you are not at fault! Not at all! Bring your account. Phryne, fetch me my reckoning counters. Oh the rascal! Wine, five drachmae! Sausage, two! ormers you say, mackerel.... honeycombs! We will reckon them up correctly tomorrow; now go to Aeschra's perfumery and get five silver bottles (?) Tell her as a token that Bacchon kissed her five times right off", of which fact her bed was entered as a witness.
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§ 5.182 MELEAGER Give her this message, Dorcas; look! tell her it twice and repeat the whole a third time. Off with you! don't delay, fly! — just wait a moment, Dorcas! Dorcas, where are you off to before I've told you all? Just add to what I told you before — or rather (what a fool I am!) don't say anything at all — only that — Tell her everything, don't hesitate to say everything. But why am I sending you, Dorcas? Don't you see I am going with you — in front of you?
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§ 5.183 POSIDIPPUS We are four at the party, and each brings his mistress; since that makes eight, one jar of Chian is not enough. Go, my lad, to Aristius and tell him the first he sent was only half full; it is two gallons short certainly; I think more. But look sharp, for we all meet at five.
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§ 5.184 MELEAGER I know it; you did not take me in; why call on the gods? I have found you out; I am certain; don't go on swearing you didn't; I know all about it. That was what it was then, you perjured girl! Once more you sleep alone, do you, alone? Oh her brazen impudence! still she continues to say “Alone.” Did not that fine gallant Cleon, eh? — and if not he — but why threaten? Away with you, get out double quick, you evil beast of my bed! Nay but I shall do just what will please you best; I know you long to see him; so stay where you are my prisoner.
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§ 5.185 ASCLEPIADES Go to the market, Demetrius, and get from Amyntas three small herrings and ten little lemon-soles 1; and get two dozen fresh prawns (he will count them for you) and come straight back. And from Thauborius get six rose-wreaths — and, as it is on your way, just look in and invite Tryphera.
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§ 5.186 POSIDIPPUS Don't think to deceive me, Philaenis, with your plausible tears. I know; you love absolutely no one more than me, as long as you are lying beside me; but if you were with someone else, you would say you loved him more than me.
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§ 5.187 MELEAGER Tell to Lycaenis, Dorcas, “See how thy kisses are proved to be false coin. Time will ever reveal a counterfeit love.”
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§ 5.188 LEONIDAS OF TARENTUM It is not I who wrong Love. I am gentle, I call Cypris to witness; but he shot me from a treacherous bow, and I am all being consumed to ashes. One burning arrow after another he speeds at me and not for a moment does his fire slacken. Now I, a mortal, shall avenge myself on the transgressor though the god be winged. Can I be blamed for self-defence?
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§ 5.189 ASCLEPIADES The night is long, and it is winter weather, and night sets when the Pleiads are half-way up the sky. I pass and repass her door, drenched by the rain, smitten by desire of her, the deceiver. It is not love that Cypris smote me with, but a tormenting arrow red-hot from the fire.
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§ 5.190 MELEAGER O briny wave of Love, and sleepless gales of Jealousy, and wintry sea of song and wine, whither am I borne? This way and that shifts the abandoned rudder of my judgement. Shall we ever set eyes again on tender Scylla?
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§ 5.191 MELEAGER O stars, and moon, that lightest well Love's friends on their way, and Night, and thou, my little mandoline, companion of my serenades, shall I see her, the wanton one, yet lying awake and crying much to her lamp; or has she some companion of the night? Then will I hang at her door my suppliant garlands, all wilted with my tears, and inscribe thereon but these words, “ Cypris, to thee doth Meleager, he to whom thou hast revealed the secrets of thy revels, suspend these spoils of his love.”
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§ 5.192 MELEAGER Stranger, were you to see Callistion naked, you would say that the double letter of the Syracusans L has been changed into T.
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§ 5.193 DIOSCORIDES Tender Cleo took me captive, Adonis, as she beat her breasts white as milk at thy night funeral feast. Will she but do me the same honour, if I die. I hesitate not; take me with thee on thy voyage.
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§ 5.194 POSEIDIPPUS or ASCLEPIADES The Loves themselves escorted soft Irene as she issued from the golden chamber of Cypris, a holy flower of beauty from head to foot, as though carved of white marble, laden with virgin Graces. Full many an arrow to a young man's heart did they let fly from their purple bow-strings.
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§ 5.195 MELEAGER The Graces three wove a triple crown for Zenophila, a badge of her triple beauty. One laid desire on her skin and one gave love-longing to her shape, and one to her speech sweetness of words. Thrice blessed she, whose bed Cypris made, whose words were wrought by Peitho ( Persuasion ) and her sweet beauty by Love.
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§ 5.196 MELEAGER Zenophila's beauty is Love's gift, Cypris charmed her bed, and the Graces gave her grace.
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§ 5.197 MELEAGER Yea! by Timo's fair-curling love-loving ringlets, by Demo's fragrant skin that cheateth sleep, by the dear dalliance of Ilias, and my wakeful lamp, that looked often on the mysteries of my love-revels, I swear to thee, Love, I have but a little breath left on my lips, and if thou wouldst have this too, speak but the word and I will spit it forth.
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§ 5.198 MELEAGER No, by Timo's locks, by Heliodora's sandal, by Demo's door that drips with scent, by great-eyed Anticlea's gentle smile, by the fresh garlands on Dorothea's brow, I swear it, Love, thy quiver hath no winged arrows left hidden; for all thy shafts are fixed in me.
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§ 5.199 HEDYLUS Wine and treacherous toasts and the sweet love of Nicagoras sent Aglaonice to sleep; and here hath she dedicated to Cypris these spoils of her maiden love still all dripping with scent, her sandals and the soft band that held her bosom, witnesses to her sleep and his violence then.
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§ 5.200 Anonymous The saffron robe of Alexo, and her dark green ivy crown, still smelling of myrrh, with her snood she dedicates to sweet Priapus with the effeminate melting eyes, in memory of his holy night-festival.
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§ 5.201 Anonymous Leontis lay awake till the lovely star of morn, taking her delight with golden Sthenius, and ever since that vigil it hangs here in the shrine of Cypris, the lyre the Muses helped her then to play.
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§ 5.202 ASCLEPIADES or POSEIDIPPUS Plango dedicated on the portals of the equestrian god her purple whip and her polished reins, after winning as a jockey her race with Philaenis, her practised rival, when the horses of the evening had just begun to neigh. Dear Cypris, give her unquestioned glory for her victory, stablishing for her this favour not to be forgotten.
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§ 5.203 ASCLEPIADES Lysidice dedicated to thee, Cypris, her spur, the golden goad of her shapely leg, with which she trained many a horse on its back, while her own thighs were never reddened, so lightly did she ride; for she ever finished the race without a touch of the spur, and therefore hung on the great gate of thy temple this her weapon of gold.
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§ 5.204 MELEAGER No longer, Timo, do the timbers of your spruce corsair hold out against the strokes of Cypris' oarsmen, but your back is bent like a yard-arm lowered, and your grey forestays are slack, and your relaxed breasts are like flapping sails, and the belly of your ship is wrinkled by the tossing of the waves, and below she is all full of bilgewater and flooded with the sea, and her joints are shaky. Unhappy he who has to sail still alive across the lake of Acheron on this old coffin-galley.
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§ 5.205 Anonymous Nico's love-charm, that can compel a man to come from oversea and boys from their rooms, carved of transparent amethyst, set in gold and hung upon a soft thread of purple wool, she, the witch of Larissa presents to thee Cypris, to possess and treasure.
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§ 5.206 LEONIDAS Melo and Satyra, the daughters of Antigenides, now advanced in age, the willing work-women of the Muses, dedicate to the Pimpleian Muses, the one her swift-lipped flute and this its box-wood case, and Satyra, the friend of love, her pipe that she joined with wax, the evening companion of banqueters, the sweet whistler, with which all night long she waited to see the day dawn, fretting not because the portals would not open.
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§ 5.207 ASCLEPIADES Bitto and Nannion of Samus will not go to the house of Cypris by the road the goddess ordains, but desert to other things which are not seemly. O Lady Cypris, look with hate on the truants from thy bed.
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§ 5.208 MELEAGER I do not have a boy-mad heart. What pleasure is there, Loves, in mounting a man, if he wants to take something without giving anything? For one hand washes the other. Let a lovely wife remain for me; begone, all you men with your masculine pincers.
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§ 5.209 POSEIDIPPUS or ASCLEPIADES By thy strand, O Paphian Cytherea, Cleander saw Nico swimming in the blue sea, and burning with love he took to his heart dry coals from the wet maiden. He, standing on the land, was shipwrecked, but she in the sea was received gently by the beach. Now they are both equally in love, for the prayers were not in vain that he breathed on that strand.
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§ 5.210 ASCLEPIADES Didyme by the branch she waved at me has carried me clean away, alas! and looking on her beauty, I melt like wax before the fire. And if she is dusky, what is that to me? So are the coals, but when we light them, they shine as bright as roses.
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§ 5.211 POSEIDIPPUS Tears and revel, why do you incite me before my feet are out of the name to rush into another of Cypris' fires? Never do I cease from love, and tireless desire ever brings me some new pain from Aphrodite.
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§ 5.212 MELEAGER The noise of Love is ever in my ears, and my eyes in silence bring their tribute of sweet tears to Desire. Nor night nor daylight lays love to rest, and already the spell has set its well-known stamp on my heart. O winged Loves, is it that ye are able to fly to us, but have no strength at all to fly away?
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§ 5.213 POSEIDIPPUS If anyone is with Pythias, I am off, but if she sleeps alone, for God's sake admit me for a little, and say for a token that drunk, and through thieves, I came with daring Love for my guide.
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§ 5.214 MELEAGER This Love that dwells with me is fond of playing at ball, and to thee, Heliodora, he throws the heart that quivers in me. But come, consent to play with him, for if thou throwest me away from thee he will not brook this wanton transgression of the courtesies of sport.
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§ 5.215 MELEAGER I pray thee, Love, reverence the Muse who intercedes for me and lull to rest this my sleepless passion for Heliodora. I swear it by thy bow that hath learnt to shoot none else, but ever pours the winged shafts upon me, even if thou slayest me I will leave letters speaking thus: “Look, O stranger, on the murderous work of Love.”
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§ 5.216 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS If you love, do not wholly let your spirit bend the knee and cringe full of oily supplication, but be a little proof against approaches, so far at least as to draw up your eyebrows and look on her with a scanting air. For it is more or less the business of women to slight the proud, and to make fun of those who are too exceedingly pitiful. He is the best lover who mixes the two, tempering piteousness with just a little manly pride.
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§ 5.217 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Zeus, turned to gold, piercing the brazen chamber of Danae, cut the knot of intact virginity. I think the meaning of the story is this, “Gold, the subduer of all things, gets the better of brazen walls and fetters; gold loosens all reins and opens every lock, gold makes the ladies with scornful eyes bend the knee. It was gold that bent the will of Danae. No need for a lover to pray to Aphrodite, if he brings money to offer.”
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§ 5.218 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS The arrogant Polemo, who in Menander's drama cut off his wife's sweet locks, has found an imitator in a younger Polemo, who with audacious hands despoiled Rhodanthe of her locks, and even turning the comic punishment into a tragic one flogged the limbs of the slender girl. It was an act of jealous madness, for what great wrong did she do if she chose to take pity on my affliction? The villain! and he has separated us, his burning jealousy going so far as to prevent us even looking at each other. Well, at any rate, he is “The Hated Man” and I am “The Ill-Tempered Man,” as I don't see “The Clipped Lady.” l
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§ 5.219 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Let us steal our kisses, Rhodope, and the lovely and precious work of Cypris. It is sweet not to be found out, and to avoid the all-entrapping eyes of guardians: furtive amours are more honied than open ones.
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§ 5.220 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS If grey hairs now have lulled your desires, Cleobulus, and that glowing goad of love-madness is blunted, you should, when you reflect on the passions of your youth, take pity now on the pains of younger people, and not be so very wroth at weaknesses common to all mankind, robbing the slender girl of all the glory of her hair. The poor child formerly looked upon you as a father, (anti patros), and now all at once you have become a foe (antipalos).
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§ 5.221 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS How long shall we continue to exchange stolen glances, endeavouring to veil their fire. We must speak out and reveal our suffering, and if anyone hinders that tender union which will end our pain, the sword shall be the cure for both of us; for sweeter for us, if we cannot live ever together, to go together to death.
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§ 5.222 AGATHIAS To a harp-player and tragic actress called Ariadne Whenever she strikes her harp with the plectrum, it seems to be the echo of Terpsichore's strings, and if she tunes her voice to the high tragic strain, it is the hum of Melpomene that she reproduces. Were there a new contest for beauty too, Cypris herself were more likely to lose the prize than she, and Paris would revise his judgement. But hush! let us keep it to our own selves, lest Bacchus overhear and long for the embraces of this Ariadne too.
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§ 5.223 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL O star of the morning, press not hard on Love, nor because thou movest near to Mars learn from him to be pitiless. But as once when thou sawest the Sun in Clymene's chamber, thou wentest more slowly down to the west, so on this night that I longed for, scarce hoping, tarry in thy coming, as in the Cimmerian land.
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§ 5.224 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL Cease Love to aim at my heart and liver, and if thou must shoot, let it be at some other part of me.
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§ 5.225 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL My love is a running sore that ever discharges tears for the wound stancheth not; I am in evil case and find no cure, nor have I any Machaon to apply the gentle salve that I need. I am Telephus, my child; be thou faithful Achilles and staunch with thy beauty the desire wherewith thy beauty smote me.
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§ 5.226 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS How long, O eyes, quaffing boldly beauty's untempered wine, will ye drain the nectar of the Loves! Let us flee far away, far as we have the strength, and in the calm to a milder Cypris I will pour a sober offering. But if haply even there the fury possesses me, I will bid ye be wet with icy tears, and suffer for ever the pain ye deserve; for it was you alas! who cast me into such a fiery furnace.
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§ 5.227 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL Every year is the vintage, and none in gathering the grapes looks with reluctance on the curling tendrils. But thee, the rosy-armed, the crown of my devotion, I hold enchained in the gentle knot of my arms, and gather the vintage of love. No other summer, no spring do I hope to see, for thou art entirely full of delight. So may thy prime endure for ever, and if some crooked tendril of a wrinkle comes, I will suffer it, for that I love thee.
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§ 5.228 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Tell me for whose sake shalt thou still tire thy hair, and make thy hands bright, paring thy finger nails? Why shalt thou adorn thy raiment with the purple bloom of the sea, now that no longer thou art near lovely Rhodope? With eyes that look not on Rhodope I do not even care to watch bright Aurora dawn in gold.
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§ 5.229 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL A herdsman, looking on Niobe weeping, wondered how a rock could shed tears. But Euippe's heart, the living stone, takes no pity on me lamenting through the misty darkness of so long a night. In both cases the fault is Love's, who brought pain to Niobe for her children and to me the pain of passion.
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§ 5.230 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Doris pulled one thread from her golden hair and bound my hands with it, as if I were her prisoner. At first I laughed, thinking it easy to shake off charming Doris' fetters. But finding I had not strength to break them, I presently began to moan, as one held tight by galling irons. And now most ill-fated of men, I am hung on a hair and must ever follow where my mistress chooses to drag me.
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§ 5.231 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL Thy mouth blossoms with grace and thy cheeks bloom with flowers, thy eyes are bright with Love, and thy hands aglow with music. Thou takest captive eyes with eyes and ears with song; with thy every part thou trappest unhappy young men.
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§ 5.232 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Kissing Hippomenes, my heart was fixed on Leander; clinging to Leander's lips, I bear the image of Xanthus in my mind; and embracing Xanthus my heart goes back to Hippomenes. Thus ever I refuse him I have in my grasp, and receiving one after another in my ever shifting arms, I court wealth of Love. Let whoso blames me remain in single poverty.
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§ 5.233 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL “Tomorrow I will see thee.” Yet tomorrow never comes, but ever, as thy way is, deferment is heaped upon deferment. That is all thou grantest to me who love thee; for others thou hast many gifts, for me but perfidy. “I will see thee in the evening.” But what is the evening of women? Old age full of countless wrinkles.
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§ 5.234 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS I who formerly in my youth with stubborn heart refused to yield to the sweet empire of Cypris, wielder of the goad, I who was proof against the consuming arrows of the Loves, now grown half grey, bend the neck to thee, O Paphian queen. Receive me and laugh elate that thou conquerest wise Pallas now even more than when ye contended for the apple of the Hesperides.
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§ 5.235 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL Against my hope thou art come to me, who longed for thee, and by the shock of wonder didst empty my soul of all its vain imagining. I tremble, and my heart in its depths quivers with passion; my soul is drowned by the wave of Love. But save me, the shipwrecked mariner, now near come to land, receiving me into thy harbour.
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§ 5.236 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Yea, maybe it is lighter than mine, the pain that Tantalus suffers in hell. Never did he see thy beauty and never was denied the touch of thy lips, more tender than an opening rose — Tantalus ever in tears. He dreads the rock over his head but he cannot die a second time. But I, not yet dead, am wasted away by passion, and am enfeebled even unto death.
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§ 5.237 AGATHIAS SCHOLASTICUS of MYRINA All the night long I complain, and when dawn comes to give me a little rest, the swallows twitter around and move me again to tears chasing sweet slumber away. I keep my eyes sightless, but again the thought of Rhodanthe haunts my heart. Hush ye spiteful babblers! It was not I who shore the tongue of Philomela. Go weep for Itylus on the hills, and lament sitting by the hoopoe's nest amid the crags; that I may sleep for a little season, and perchance some dream may come and cast Rhodanthe's arms about me.
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§ 5.238 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL Why do I draw my sword from the scabbard? It is not, dear, I swear it by thyself, to do aught foreign to Love's service, but to show thee that Ares though he be of stubborn steel yields to soft Cypris. This is the companion of my love, and I need no mirror, but look at myself in it, though, being in love, I am blind. But if thou forgettest me, the sword shall pierce my flank.
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§ 5.239 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS The raging flame is extinct; I suffer no longer, O Cypris; but I am dying of cold. For after having devoured my flesh, this bitter love, panting hard in his greed, creeps through my bones and vitals. So the altar fire, when it hath lapped up all the sacrifice, cools down of its own accord for lack of fuel to feed it.
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§ 5.240 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL I pursue Love with gold; for bees do not work with spade or plough, but with the fresh flowers of spring. Gold, however, is the resourceful toiler that wins Aphrodite's honey.
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§ 5.241 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS “Farewell” is on my tongue, but I hold in the word with a wrench and still abide near thee. For I shudder at this horrid parting as at the bitter night of hell. Indeed thy light is like the daylight; but that is mute, while thou bringest me that talk, sweeter than the Sirens, on which all my soul's hopes hang.
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§ 5.242 ERATOSTHENES SCHOLASTICUS When I saw Melite, I grew pale, for her husband was with her, but I said to her trembling, “May I push back the bolts of your door, loosening the boltpin, and fixing in the middle the tip of my key pierce the damp base of the folding door? ” But she, laughing and glancing at her husband, said, “You had better keep away from my door, or the dog may worry you.”
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§ 5.243 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL I held the laughter-loving girl clasped in my arms in a dream. She yielded herself entirely to me and offered no protest to any of my caprices. But some jealous Love lay in ambush for me even at night, and frightening sleep away spilt my cup of bliss. So even in the dreams of my sleep Love envies me the sweet attainment of my desire.
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§ 5.244 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Galatea's kisses are long and smack, Demo's are soft, and Doris bites one. Which excites most? Let not ears be judges of kisses; but I will taste the three and vote. My heart, thou wert wrong; thou knewest already Demo's soft kiss and the sweet honey of her fresh mouth. Cleave to that; she wins without a bribe; if any take pleasure in another, he will not tear me away from Demo.
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§ 5.245 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL You titter and neigh like a mare that courts the male; you make quiet signs to me; you do everything to excite me, but in vain. I swore, I swore with three stones in my hand that I would never look with kindly eyes on the hard-hearted girl. Practise kissing by yourself and smack your lips, that pout in naked shamelessness, but are linked to no man's. But I go another way, for there are other better partners in the sports of Cypris.
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§ 5.246 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS Soft are Sappho's kisses, soft the clasp of her snowy limbs, every part of her is soft. But her heart is of unyielding adamant. Her love reaches but to her lips, the rest is forbidden fruit. Who can support this? Perhaps, perhaps he who has borne it will find it easy to support the thirst of Tantalus.
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§ 5.247 MACEDONIUS THE CONSUL Constance (Parmenis) in name but not in deed! When I heard your pretty name I thought you might be, but to me you are more cruel than death. You fly from him who loves you and you pursue him who loves you not, that when he loves you, you may fly from him too in turn. Your mouth is a hook with madness in its tip: I bit, and straight it holds me hanging from its rosy lips.
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§ 5.248 PAULUS SILENTIARIUS O all-daring hand, how could you seize her tightly by her all-golden hair and drag her about? How could you? Did not her piteous cries soften you, her torn hair, her meekly bent neck? Now in vain you beat my forehead again and again. Nevermore shall your palm be allowed to touch her breasts. Nay, I pray thee, my lady, punish me not so cruelly: rather than that I would gladly die by the sword.

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.