Greek Anthology Books 10-12

ToposText · Greek Anthology · 828 sections

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§ 12.132 MELEAGER Did I not cry it to thee, my soul, “By Cypris, thou wilt be taken, O thou love-lorn, that fliest again and again to the limed bough”? Did I not cry it? And the snare has caught thee. Why dost thou struggle vainly in thy bonds? Love himself hath bound thy wings and set thee on the fire, and sprays thee with scents when thou faintest, and gives thee when thou art athirst hot tears to drink.
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§ 12.132a By the same O sore-afflicted soul, now thou burnest in the fire and now thou revivest, recovering thy breath. Why dost thou weep? When thou didst nurse merciless Love in thy bosom knewest thou not that he was being nursed for thy bane? Didst thou not know it? Now learn to know the pay of thy good nursing, receiving from him fire and cold snow therewith. Thyself thou hast chosen this; bear the pain. Thou sufferest the due guerdon of what thou hast done, burnt by his boiling honey.
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§ 12.133 MELEAGER In summer, when I was athirst, I kissed the tender-fleshed boy and said, when I was free of my parching thirst, “Father Zeus, dost thou drink the nectareous kiss of Ganymede, and is this the wine he tenders to thy lips? ” For now that I have kissed Antiochus, fairest of our youth, I have drunk the sweet honey of the soul.
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§ 12.134 CALLIMACHUS Our guest has a wound and we knew it not. Sawest thou not with what pain he heaved his breath up from his chest when he drank the third cup? And all the roses, casting their petals, fell on the ground from the man's wreaths. There is something burns him fiercely; by the gods I guess not at random, but a thief myself, I know a thief's footprints.
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§ 12.135 ASCLEPIADES Wine is the proof of love. Nicagoras denied to us that he was in love, but those many toasts convicted him. Yes! he shed tears and bent his head, and had a certain downcast look, and the wreath bound tight round his head kept not its place.
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§ 12.136 Anonymous Ye chattering birds, why do you clamour? Vex me not, as I lie warmed by the lad's delicate flesh, ye nightingales that sit among the leaves. Sleep, I implore you, ye talkative women-folk; hold your peace.
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§ 12.137 MELEAGER Crier of the dawn, caller of evil tidings to a love-sick wight, now, thrice accursed, just when love has only this brief portion of the night left to live, thou crowest in the dark, beating thy sides with thy wings all exultant above thy bed, and makest sweet mockery over my pains. Is this the loving thanks thou hast for him who reared thee? I swear it by this dim dawn, it is the last time thou shalt chant this bitter song.
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§ 12.138 MNASALCAS Vine, dost thou fear the setting of the Pleiads in the west,i that thou hastenest to shed thy leaves on the ground? Tarry till sweet sleep fall on Antileon beneath thee; tarry till then, bestower of all favours on the fair.
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§ 12.139 CALLIMACHUS There is, I swear it by Pan, yea, by Dionysus, there is some fire hidden here under the embers. I mistrust me. Embrace me not, I entreat thee. Often a tranquil stream secretly eats away a wall at its base. Therefore now too I fear, Menexenus, lest this silent crawler find his way into me and cast me into love.
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§ 12.140 Anonymous When I saw Archestratus the fair I said, so help me Hermes I did, that he was not fair; for he seemed not passing fair to me. I had but spoken the word and Nemesis seized me, and at once I lay in the flames and Zeus, in the guise of a boy, rained his lightning on me. Shall I beseech the boy or the goddess for mercy? But to me the boy is greater than the goddess. Let Nemesis go her way.
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§ 12.141 MELEAGER By Cypris, thou hast spoken what not even a god might, O spirit, who hast learnt to be too daring. Theron seemed not fair to thee. He seemed not fair to thee, Theron. But thou thyself hast brought it on thee, not dreading even the fiery bolts of Zeus. Wherefore, lo! indignant Nemesis hath exposed thee, once so voluble, to be gazed at, as an example of an unguarded tongue.
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§ 12.142 RHIANUS Dexionicus, having caught a blackbird with lime under a green plane-tree, held it by the wings, and it, the holy bird, screamed complaining. But I, dear Love, and ye blooming Graces, would fain be even a thrush or a blackbird, so that in his hand I might pour forth my voice and sweet tears.
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§ 12.143 Anonymous “O Hermes, when shot he extracted the bitter arrow,..” “And I, O stranger, met with the same fate.” “But desire for Apollophanes wears me away.” “O lover of sports, thou hast outstripped me; we both have leapt into the same fire.”
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§ 12.144 MELEAGER To Love Why weepest thou O stealer of the wits? Why hast thou cast away thy savage bow and arrows, folding thy pair of outstretched wings? Doth Myiscus, ill to combat, burn thee, too, with his eyes? How hard it has been for thee to learn by suffering what evil thou wast wont to do of old!
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§ 12.145 Anonymous Rest, ye lovers of lads, from your empty labour; cease from your troubles, ye perverse men; we are maddened by never fulfilled hopes. It is like to baling the sea on to the dry land and reckoning the number of grains in the Libyan sand to court the love of boys, whose vainglorious beauty is sweet to men and gods alike. Look on me, all of you; for all my futile toil of the past is as water shed on the dry beach.
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§ 12.146 RHIANUS I caught the fawn and lost him; I, who had taken countless pains and set up the nets and stakes, go away empty-handed, but they who toiled not carry off my quarry, O Love. May thy wrath be heavy upon them.
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§ 12.147 MELEAGER They have carried her off! Who so savage as to do such armed violence? Who so strong as to raise war against Love himself? Quick, light the torches! But a footfall; Heliodora's! Get thee back into my bosom, O my heart.
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§ 12.148 CALLIMACHUS I know my hands are empty of wealth, but, by the Graces I beseech thee, Menippus, tell me not my own dream. It hurts me to hear continually these bitter words. Yes, my dear, this is the most unloving thing in all thy bearing to me.
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§ 12.149 CALLIMACHUS “You will be caught, Menecrates, do all you can to escape,” I said on the twentieth of Panemus; and in Loius on what day? — the tenth — the ox came of his own accord under the yoke of the plough. Well done, my Hermes! well done, my own! I don't complain of the twenty days' delay.
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§ 12.150 CALLIMACHUS How capital the charm for one in love that Polyphemus discovered! Yea, by the Earth, he was not unschooled, the Cyclops. The Muses make Love thin, Philippus; of a truth learning is a medicine that cures every ill. This, I think, is the only good that hunger, too, has to set against its evils, that it extirpates the disease of love for boys. I have plenty of cause for saying to Love “Thy wings are being clipped, my little man. I fear thee not a tiny bit.” For at home I have both the charms for the severe wound.
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§ 12.151 Anonymous Stranger, if thou sawest somewhere among the boys one whose bloom was most lovely, undoubtedly thou sawest Apollodotus. And if, having seen him, thou wast not overcome by burning fiery desire, of a surety thou art either a god or a stone.
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§ 12.152 Anonymous Heraclitus, my beloved, is a Magnet, not attracting iron by stone, but my spirit by his beauty.
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§ 12.153 ASCLEPIADES (The Complaint of a Girl) Time was when Archeades loved to sit close to me, but now not even in play does he turn to look at me, unhappy that I am. Not even Love the honeyed is ever sweet, but often he becomes a sweeter god to lovers when he torments them.
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§ 12.154 MELEAGER Sweet is the boy, and even the name of Myiscus is sweet to me and full of charm. What excuse have I for not loving? For he is beautiful, by Cypris, entirely beautiful; and if he gives me pain, why, it is the way of Love to mix bitterness with honey.
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§ 12.155 Anonymous A. Don't speak to me again like that. B. How am I to blame? He sent me himself. A. What! will you say it a second time? B. A second time. He said “Go.” But come, don't delay, they are waiting for you. A. First of all I will find them and then I will come. I know from experience what the third story will be.
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§ 12.156 Anonymous Even like unto a storm in springtime, Diodorus, is my love, determined by the moods of an uncertain sea. At one time thou displayest heavy rain-clouds, at another again the sky is clear and thy eyes melt in a soft smile. And I, like a shipwrecked man in the surge, count the blind waves as I am whirled hither and thither at the mercy of the mighty storm. But show me a landmark either of love or of hate, that I may know in which sea I swim.
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§ 12.157 MELEAGER Cypris is my skipper and Love keeps the tiller, holding in his hand the end of my soul's rudder, and the heavy gale of Desire drives me storm-tossed; for now I swim verily in a Pamphylian sea of boys.
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§ 12.158 MELEAGER The goddess, queen of the Desires, gave me to thee, Theocles; Love, the soft-sandalled, laid me low for thee to tread on, all unarmed, a stranger in a strange land, having tamed me by his bit that grippeth fast. But now I long to win a friendship in which I need not stoop. But thou refusest him who loves thee, and neither time softens thee nor the tokens we have of our mutual continence. Have mercy on me. Lord, have mercy! for Destiny ordained thee a god; with thee rest for me the issues of life and death.
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§ 12.159 MELEAGER My life's cable, Myiscus, is made fast to thee; in thee is all the breath that is left to my soul. For by thy eyes, dear boy, that speak even to the deaf, and by thy bright brow I swear it, if ever thou lookest at me with a clouded eye I see the winter, but if, thy glance be blithe, the sweet spring bursts into bloom.
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§ 12.160 Anonymous Bravely shall I bear the sharp pain in my vitals and the bond of the cruel fetters. For it is not now only, Nicander, that I learn to know the wounds of love, but often have I tasted desire. Do both thou, Adrasteia, and thou. Nemesis, bitterest of the immortals, exact due vengeance for his evil resolve.
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§ 12.161 ASCLEPIADES Dorcion, who loves to sport with the young men, knows how to cast, like a tender boy, the swift dart of Cypris the Popular, flashing desire from her eye, and over her shoulders... with her boy's hat, her chlamys showed her naked thigh.
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§ 12.162 ASCLEPIADES My Love, not yet carrying a bow, or savage, but a tiny child, returns to Cypris, holding a golden writing tablet, and reading from it he lisps the love-charms that Diaulus' boy, Philocrates, used to conquer the soul of Antigenes.
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§ 12.163 ASCLEPIADES Love has discovered what beauty to mix with beauty; not emerald with gold, which neither sparkles nor could ever be its equal, nor ivory with ebony, black with white, but Cleander with Eubiotus, two flowers of Persuasion and Friendship.
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§ 12.164 MELEAGER Sweet it is to mix with wine the bees' sugary liquor, and sweet to love a boy when oneself is lovely too, even as Alexis now loves soft-haired Cleobulus. These two are the immortal metheglin of Cypris.
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§ 12.165 MELEAGER Cleobulus is a white blossom, and Sopolis, who stands opposite him, is of honey tint — the two flowerbearers of Cypris... Therefrom comes my longing for the lads; for the Loves say they wove me of black and white.
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§ 12.166 ASCLEPIADES Let this that is left of my soul, whatever it be, let this at least, ye Loves, have rest for heaven's sake. Or else no longer shoot me with arrows but with thunderbolts, and make me utterly into ashes and cinders. Yea! yea! strike me, ye Loves; for withered away as I am by distress, I would have from you, if I may have aught, this little gift.
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§ 12.167 MELEAGER Wintry is the wind, but Love the sweet-teared bears me, swept away by the revel, towards thee, Myiscus. And Desire's heavy gale tosses me. But receive me, who sail on the sea of Cypris, into thy harbour.
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§ 12.168 POSIDIPPUS Pour in two ladles of Nanno and Lyde and one of the lovers' friend, Mimnermus, and one of wise Antimachus, and with the fifth mix in myself, Heliodorus, and with the sixth say, “Of everyone who ever chanced to love.” Say the seventh is of Hesiod, and the eighth of Homer, and the ninth of the Muses, and the tenth of Mnemosyne. I drink the bowl full above the brim, Cypris, and for the rest the Loves... not very displeasing when either sober or drunk.
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§ 12.169 DIOSCORIDES I escaped from your weight, Theodorus, but no sooner had I said “I have escaped from my most cruel tormenting spirit ” than a crueller one seized on me, and slaving for Aristocrates in countless ways, I am awaiting even a third master.
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§ 12.170 By the same Libation and Frankincense, and ye Powers mixed in the bowl, who hold the issues of my friendship, I call you to witness, solemn Powers, by all of whom the honey-complexioned boy Athenaeus swore.
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§ 12.171 By the same Zephyr, gentlest of the winds, bring back to me the lovely pilgrim Euphragoras, even as thou didst receive him, not extending his absence beyond a few months' space; for to a lover's mind a short time is as a thousand years.
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§ 12.172 EVENUS If to hate is pain and to love is pain, of the two evils I choose the smart of kind pain.
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§ 12.173 — PHILODEMUS Demo and Thermion are killing me. Thermion is a courtesan and Demo a girl who knows not Cypris yet. The one I touch, but the other I may not. By thyself, Cypris, I swear, I know not which I should call the more desirable. I will say it is the virgin Demo; for I desire not what is ready to hand, but long for whatever is kept under lock and key.
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§ 12.174 FRONTO How long wilt thou resist me, dearest Cyrus? What art thou doing? Dost thou not pity thy Cambyses? tell me. Become not a Mede, for soon thou shalt be a Scythian and the hairs will make thee Astyages.
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§ 12.175 STRATO Either be not jealous with your friends about your slave boys, or do not provide girlish-looking cupbearers. For who is of adamant against love, or who succumbs not to wine, and who does not look curiously at pretty boys? This is the way of living men, but if you like, Diophon, go away to some place where there is no love and no drunkenness, and there induce Tiresias or Tantalus to drink with you, the one to see nothing and the other only to see.
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§ 12.176 STRATO Why are you draped down to your ankles in that melancholy fashion, Menippus, you who used to tuck up your dress to your thighs? Or why do you pass me by with downcast eyes and without a word? I know what you are hiding from me. They have come, those things I told you would come.
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§ 12.177 STRATO Last evening Moeris, at the hour when we bid good night, embraced me, I know not whether in reality or in a dream. I remember now quite accurately everything else, what he said to me and the questions he asked, but whether he kissed me too or not I am at a loss to know; for if it be true, how is it that I, who then became a god, am walking about on earth?
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§ 12.178 STRATO I caught fire when Theudis shone among the other boys, like the sun that rises on the stars. Therefore I am still burning now, when the down of night overtakes him, for though he be setting, yet he is still the sun.
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§ 12.179 STRATO I swore to thee, son of Cronos, that never, not even to myself, would I utter what Theudis told me I might have. But my froward soul flies high in exultation and cannot contain the good. But I will out with it: pardon me, Zeus, “He yielded.” Father Zeus, what delight is there in good fortune that is known to none?
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§ 12.180 STRATO I feel some burning heat; but cease, boy, from waving in the air near me the napkin of fine linen. I have another fire within me lit by the wine thou didst serve, and aroused more with thy fanning.
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§ 12.181 STRATO It is a lying fable, Theocles, that the Graces are good and that there are three of them in Orchomenus; for five times ten dance round thy face, all archers, ravishers of other men's souls.
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§ 12.182 STRATO Now thou givest me these futile kisses, when the fire of love is quenched, when not even apart from it do I regard thee as a sweet friend. For I remember those days of thy stubborn resistance. Yet even now, Daphnis, though it be late, let repentance find its place.
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§ 12.183 STRATO What delight, Heliodorus, is there in kisses, if thou dost not kiss me, pressing against me with greedy lips, but on the tips of mine with thine closed and motionless, as a wax image at home kisses me even without thee.
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§ 12.184 STRATO Study not to capture Menedemus by craft, but sign to him with your eyebrows and he will say openly, “Go on, I follow.” For there is no delay, and he even “outrunneth him who guides him,” and is more expeditious not than a water-channel but than a river.
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§ 12.185 STRATO These airified boys, with their purple-edged robes, whom we cannot get at, Diphilus, are like ripe figs on high crags, which the vultures and ravens eat.
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§ 12.186 STRATO How long. Mentor, shalt thou maintain this arrogant brow, not even bidding “good day,” as if thou shouldst keep young for all time or tread for ever the pyrrhic dance? Look forward and consider thy end too. Thy beard will come, the last of evils but the greatest, and then thou shalt know what scarcity of friends is.
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§ 12.187 STRATO How, Dionysius, shall you teach a boy to read when you do not even know how to make the transition from one note to another? You have passed so quickly from the highest note to a deep one, from the slightest rise to the most voluminous. Yet I bear you no grudge; only study, and striking both say Lambda and Alpha to the envious.
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§ 12.188 STRATO If I do you a wrong by kissing you, and you think this an injury, kiss me too, inflicting the same on me as a punishment.
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§ 12.189 STRATO Who crowned all thy head with roses? If it was a lover, blessed is he, but if it was thy father, he too has eyes.
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§ 12.190 STRATO Blest is he who painted thee, and blest is this wax that knew how to be conquered by thy beauty. Would I could become a creeping wood-worm that I might leap up and devour this wood.
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§ 12.191 STRATO Wast thou not yesterday a boy, and we had never even dreamt of this beard coming? How did this accursed thing spring up, covering with hair all that was so pretty before? Heavens! what a marvel! Yesterday you were Troilus and today how have you become Priam?
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§ 12.192 STRATO I am not charmed by long hair and needless ringlets taught in the school of Art, not of Nature, but by the dusty grime of a boy fresh from the playground and the colour given to the limbs by the gloss of oil. My love is sweet when unadorned, but a fraudulent beauty has in it the work of female Cypris.
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§ 12.193 STRATO Thou dost not even take to heart, Artemidorus, what the Avenging Goddesses of Smyrna say to thee, “Nothing beyond due measure,” but thou art always acting, talking loud in a tone so arrogant and savage, not even becoming in an actor. Thou shalt remember all this, haughty boy; thou, too, shalt love and play the part of “The barred-out lady.”
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§ 12.194 STRATO If Zeus still carried off mortal boys from earth to the sky to be ministrants of the sweet nectar, an eagle would ere this have borne my lovely Agrippa on his wings to the service of the immortals. For yea, by thyself I swear it. Son of Cronos, Father of the world, if thou lookest on him thou wilt at once find fault with the Phrygian boy of the house of Dardanus.
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§ 12.195 STRATO The meads that love the Zephyr are not abloom with so many flowers, the crowded splendour of the spring-tide, as are the high-born boys thou shalt see, Dionysius, all moulded by Cypris and the Graces. And chief among them, look, flowers Milesius, like a rose shining with its sweet-scented petals. But perchance he knows not, that as a lovely flower is killed by the heat, so is beauty by a hair.
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§ 12.196 STRATO Thy eyes are sparks, Lycinus, divinely fair; or rather, master mine, they are rays that shoot forth flame. Even for a little season I cannot look at thee face to face, so bright is the lightning from both.
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§ 12.197 STRATO “Know the time” said one of the seven sages; for all things, Philippus, are more loveable when in their prime. A cucumber, too, is a fruit we honour at first when we see it in its garden bed, but after, when it ripens, it is food for swine.
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§ 12.198 STRATO I am a friend of youth and prefer not one boy to another, judging them by their beauty; for one has one charm, another another.
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§ 12.199 STRATO I have drunk already in sufficient measure, for both my mind's and my tongue's steadiness is relaxed. The flame of the lamp is torn into two, and I count the guests double, though I try over and over again. And now not only am I in a flutter for the wine-pourer, but I look, out of season, at the Water-pourer too.
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§ 12.200 STRATO I hate resistance to my embrace when I kiss, and pugnacious cries, and violent opposition with the hands, but at the same time I have no great desire for him who, when he is in my arms, is at once ready and abandons himself effusively. I wish for one half-way between the two, such as is he who knows both how to give himself and how not to give himself.
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§ 12.201 STRATO If Cleonicus does not come now I will never receive him in my house, by —. I will not swear; for if he did not come owing to a dream he had, and then does appear tomorrow, it is not all over with me because of the loss of this one day.
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§ 12.202 STRATO Winged Love bore me through the air, Damis, when I saw your letter which told me you had arrived here; and swiftly I flew from Smyrna to Sardis; if Zetes or Calais had been racing me they would have been left behind.
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§ 12.203 STRATO You kiss me when I don't wish it, and you don't wish it when I kiss you; when I fly you are facile, when I attack you are difficult.
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§ 12.204 STRATO Now you may say, “Golden gifts for brazen.” Sosiades the fair and Diocles the bushy are playing at “Give and take.” Who compares roses with brambles, or figs with toadstools? Who compares a lamb like curdled milk with an ox? What dost thou give, thoughtless boy, and what dost thou receive in return? Such gifts did Diomede give to Glaucus.
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§ 12.205 STRATO My neighbour's quite tender young boy provokes me not a little, and laughs in no novice manner to show me that he is willing. But he is not more than twelve years old. Now the unripe grapes are unguarded; when he ripens there will be watchmen and stakes.
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§ 12.206 STRATO A. “If you are minded to do thus, take your adversary by the middle, and laying him down get astride of him, and shoving forward, fall on him and hold him tight.” B. “You are not in your right senses, Diophantus. I am only just capable of doing this, but boys' wrestling is different. Fix yourself fast and stand firm, Cyris, and support it when I close with you. He should learn to practise with a fellow before learning to practise himself.” ■
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§ 12.207 STRATO Yesterday Diocles in the bath brought up a lizard from the tub, “ Venus Anadyomene.” If someone had shown it to Paris then in Ida, he would have pronounced the three goddesses to be less fair than it.
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§ 12.208 STRATO Happy little book, I grudge it thee not; some boy reading thee will rub thee, holding thee under his chin, or press thee against his delicate lips, or will roll thee up resting on his tender thighs, O most blessed of books. Often shalt thou betake thee into his bosom, or, tossed down on his chair, shalt dare to touch without fear, and thou shalt talk much before him all alone with him; but I supplicate thee, little book, speak something not unoften on my behalf.
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§ 12.209 STRATO Lie not by me with so sour a face and so dejected, Diphilus, and be not a boy of the common herd. Put a little wantonness into your kisses and the preliminaries, toying, touching, scratching, your look and your words.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.210
§ 12.210 STRATO Those on the bed number three, two of whom act and two receive. I seem to be saying something miraculous but it is not a lie. One in between serves for two, giving pleasure from behind, enjoying pleasure in front.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.211
§ 12.211 STRATO If you were still uninitiated in the matter about which I go on trying to persuade you, you would be right in being afraid, thinking it is perhaps something formidable. But if your master's bed has made you proficient in it, why do you grudge granting the favour to another, receiving the same? For he, after summoning you to the business, dismisses you, and being your lord and master, goes to sleep without even addressing a word to you. But here you will have other enjoyments, playing on equal terms, talking together, and all else by invitation and not by order.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.212
§ 12.212 STRATO Woe is me! Why in tears again and so woebegone, my lad? Tell me plainly; don't give me pain; what do you want? You hold out the hollow of your hand to me. I am done for! You are begging perhaps for payment; and where did you learn that? You no longer love slices of seed-cake and sweet sesame, and nuts to play at shots with, but already your mind is set on gain. May he who taught you perish! What a boy of mine he has spoilt!
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.213
§ 12.213 STRATO You rest your splendid loins against the wall, Cyris. Why do you tempt the stone? It is incapable.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.214
§ 12.214 STRATO Grant it me and take the coin. You will say “I am rich.” Then, like a king, make me a present of the favour.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.215
§ 12.215 STRATO Now thou art spring, and afterward summer, and next what shalt thou be, Cyris? Consider, for thou shalt be dry stubble too.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.216
§ 12.216 STRATO Now straight and well-toned to no purpose, accursed tool, because yesterday you weren't breathing at all.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.217
§ 12.217 STRATO So soon thou rushest to the wars still an ignorant boy and delicate. What art thou doing? Ho I look to it, change thy resolve. Alas! who persuaded thee to grasp the spear? Who bad thee take the shield in thy hand or hide that head in a helmet? Most blessed he, whoe'er he be, who, some new Achilles, shall take his pleasure in the tent with such a Patroclus!
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.218
§ 12.218 STRATO How long shall I bear with thee, thus laughing only and never uttering a word? Tell me this plainly, Pasiphilus. I entreat and thou laughest; I entreat again and no answer; I weep and thou laughest. Cruel boy, is this a laughing matter?
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.219
§ 12.219 STRATO You want payment too, you schoolmasters! How ungrateful you are! For why? Is it a small thing to look on boys and speak to them, and kiss them when you greet them? Is not this alone worth a hundred pounds? If anyone has good-looking boys, let him send them to me and let them kiss me, and receive whatever payment they wish from me.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.220
§ 12.220 STRATO Thou art not in fetters for stealing the fire, ill-advised Prometheus, but because thou didst spoil the clay of Zeus. In moulding men thou didst add hairs, and hence comes the horrible beard, and hence boys' legs grow rough. For this thou art devoured by Zeus' eagle which carried off Ganymede; for the beard is a torment to Zeus, too.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.221
§ 12.221 STRATO Hie thee to holy Heaven, eagle; away, bearing the boy, thy twin wings outspread. Go, holding tender Ganymede, and let him not drop, the ministrant of Zeus' sweetest cups. And take heed not to make the boy bleed with the crooked claws of thy feet, lest Zeus, sore aggrieved thereby, suffer pain.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.222
§ 12.222 STRATO Once a wrestling-master, taking advantage of the occasion, when he was giving a lesson to a smooth boy, bending toward the knee was training the boy's middle, caressing his nuts with his hand. But by chance the master of the house came, wanting the boy. The teacher threw him quickly on his back, getting astride of him and grasping him by the throat. But the master of the house, who was not untrained himself, said to him, “Stop, you are choking the boy.”
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.223
§ 12.223 STRATO His face as he approaches seems altogether delightful to me, and that suffices, and I turn not my head to look at him again as he passes. For thus do we look at the statue of a god and a temple, in front, but need not look at the back chamber too.
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§ 12.224 STRATO We walk together in a good path, Diphilus, and take thou thought how it shall continue to be even as it was from the beginning. To the lot of each has fallen a winged thing; for in thee is beauty and in me love; but both are fugitive. Now they remain in unison for a season, but if they do not guard one another they take wing and are gone,
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.225
§ 12.225 STRATO Never in the dawn light of the rising sun should the flaming Dog have intercourse with the Bull, lest when fruit-bearing Demeter is moistened she rain on the hairy bedmate of Heracles.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.226
§ 12.226 STRATO All night long, my dripping eyes tear-stained, I strive to rest my spirit that grief keeps awake — grief for this separation from my friend since yesterday, when Theodorus, leaving me here alone, went to his own Ephesus. If he come not back soon I shall be no longer able to bear the solitude of my bed.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.227
§ 12.227 STRATO Even if I desire to avoid looking at a pretty boy when I meet him, I have scarcely passed him when I at once turn round.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.228
§ 12.228 STRATO That an immature boy should do despite to his insensible age carries more disgrace to the friend who tempts him than to himself, and for a grown-up youth to submit to that, his season for which is past, is twice as disgraceful to him who consents as it is to his tempter. But there is a time, Moeris, when it is no longer unseemly in the one, and not yet so in the other, as is the case with you and me at present.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.229
§ 12.229 STRATO What a good goddess is that Nemesis, to avert whom, dreading her as she treadeth behind us, we spit in our bosom! Thou didst not see her at thy heels, but didst think that for ever thou shouldst possess thy grudging beauty. Now it has perished utterly; the very wrathful goddess has come, and we, thy servants, now pass thee by.
urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001:12.230
§ 12.230 CALLIMACHUS If Theocritus, the beautifully brown, hate me, hate thou him, Zeus, four times as much, but if he love me, love him. Yea, by fair-haired Ganymede, celestial Zeus, thou too wert once in love. I say nothing further.

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.