| Theocritus, Idylls (English) (XML Header) [genre: poetry] [word count] [lemma count] [Theoc. Id.]. | ||
| <<Theoc. Id. 7.1 | Theoc. Id. 7.71 (Greek) | >>Theoc. Id. 7.147 |
7.42 So said I of set purpose, and master Goatherd with a merry laugh “I offer you this crook,” says he, “as to a sprig note of great Zeus that is made to the pattern of truth. Even as I hate your mason who will be striving to rear his house high as the peak of Mount Oromedon, note so hate I likewise your strutting cocks o’ the Muses’ yard whose crowing makes so pitiful contention against the Chian nightingale. note But enough; let’s begin our country-sons, Simichidas. First will I – pray look if you approve the ditty I made in the hills ‘tother day: (sings)
7.52 What though the Kids note above the flight of wave before the wind
Hang westward, and Orion’s foot is e’en upon the sea?
Fair voyage to Mitylenè town Agéanax shall find,
Once from the furnace of his love his Lycidas be free.
The halcyons note – and of all the birds whose living’s of the seas
The sweet green Daughters of the Deep love none so well as these –
O they shall still the Southwind and the tangle-tossing East,
And lay for him wide Ocean and his waves along to rest.
Ageanax late though he be for Mitylene bound
Heav’n bring him blest wi’ the season’s best to haven safe and sound;
And that day I’ll make merry, and bind about my brow
The anise sweet or snowflake neat or rosebuds all a-row,
And there by the hearth I’ll lay me down beside the cheerful cup,
And hot roast the beans shall make my bite and elmy wine note my sup;
And soft I’ll lie, for elbow-high my bed strown thick and well
Shall be of crinkled parsley, mullet, note and asphodel;
And so t’ Ageanax I’ll drink, drink wi’ my dear in ind,
Drink wine and wine-cup at a draught and leave no lees behind. 7.71 My pipers shall be two shepherds, a man of Acharnae he,
And he a man of Lycópè; singer shall Tityrus be,
And sing beside me of Xénea and neatherd Daphnis’ love,
How the hills were troubled around him and the oaks sang dirges above,
Sang where they stood by Himeras flood, when he a-wasting lay
Like snow on Haemus or Athos or Caucasus far far away. 7.78 And I’ll have him sing how once a king, of wilful malice bent,
In the great coffer all alive the goatherd-poet pent,
And the snub bees came from the meadow to the coffer of sweet cedar-tree,
And fed him there o’ the flowerets fair, because his lip was free
O’ the Muses’ wine note; Comàtas! ‘twas joy, all joy to thee;
Though thou wast hid ‘neath cedarn lid, the bees they meat did bring,
Till thou didst thole, right happy soul, thy twelve months’ prisoning.
And O of the quick thou wert this day! How gladly then with mine
I had kept thy pretty goats i' the hills, the while ‘neath oak or pine
Thou ‘dst lain along and sun me a song, Comatas the divine!” 7.90 So much sang Lycidas and ended; and thereupon “Dear Lycidas” said I, “afield with my herds on the hills I also have learnt of the Nymphs, and there’s many a good song of mine which Rumour may well have carried up to the throne of Zeus. But this of all is far the choicest, this which I will sing now for your delight. Pray give ear, as one should whom the Muses love: (sings) 7.96 The Loves have sneezed, note for sure they have, on poor Simichidas:
For he loves maid Myrto as goats the spring: but where he loves a lass
His dear’st Aratus sighs for a lad. Aristis, dear good man –
And best in fame as best in name, the Lord o’ the Lyre note on high
Beside his holy tripod would let him make melody 0
Aristis knows Aratus’ woes. O bring the lad, sweet Pan,
Sweet Lord of lovely Homolè, bring him unbid to ‘s fere,
Whether Philínus, sooth to say, or other be his dear.
This do, sweet Pan, and never, when slices be too few,
May the leeks note o’ the lads of Arcady beat thee back black and blue;
But O if othergates thou go, may nettles make thy bed
And set thee scratching tooth and nail, scratching from heel to head,
And be thy winter-lodging nigh the Bear up Hebrus way
I’ the hills of Thrace; when summer’s in, mid furthest Africa
Mayst feed thy flock by the Blemyan rock beyond Nile’s earliest spring. 7.115 O come ye away, ye little Loves like apples red-blushing,
From Byblis’ fount and Oecus’ mount that is fair-haired Dion’s note joy,
Come shoot the fair Philinus, shoot me the silly boy
That flouts my friend! Yet after all, the pear’s o’er-ripe to taste,
And the damsels sigh and the damsels say ‘Thy bloom, child, fails thee fast’;
So let’s watch no more his gate before, Aratus o’ this gear, note
But ease our aching feet, note my friend, and let old chanticleer
Cry ‘shiver’ to some other when he the dawn shall sing;
One scholar o’ that school’s note enough to have met his death i' the ring.
‘Tis peace of mind, lad, we must find, and have a beldame nigh
To sit for us and spit for us and bid all ill go by.”
Hang westward, and Orion’s foot is e’en upon the sea?
Fair voyage to Mitylenè town Agéanax shall find,
Once from the furnace of his love his Lycidas be free.
The halcyons note – and of all the birds whose living’s of the seas
The sweet green Daughters of the Deep love none so well as these –
O they shall still the Southwind and the tangle-tossing East,
And lay for him wide Ocean and his waves along to rest.
Ageanax late though he be for Mitylene bound
Heav’n bring him blest wi’ the season’s best to haven safe and sound;
And that day I’ll make merry, and bind about my brow
The anise sweet or snowflake neat or rosebuds all a-row,
And there by the hearth I’ll lay me down beside the cheerful cup,
And hot roast the beans shall make my bite and elmy wine note my sup;
And soft I’ll lie, for elbow-high my bed strown thick and well
Shall be of crinkled parsley, mullet, note and asphodel;
And so t’ Ageanax I’ll drink, drink wi’ my dear in ind,
Drink wine and wine-cup at a draught and leave no lees behind. 7.71 My pipers shall be two shepherds, a man of Acharnae he,
And he a man of Lycópè; singer shall Tityrus be,
And sing beside me of Xénea and neatherd Daphnis’ love,
How the hills were troubled around him and the oaks sang dirges above,
Sang where they stood by Himeras flood, when he a-wasting lay
Like snow on Haemus or Athos or Caucasus far far away. 7.78 And I’ll have him sing how once a king, of wilful malice bent,
In the great coffer all alive the goatherd-poet pent,
And the snub bees came from the meadow to the coffer of sweet cedar-tree,
And fed him there o’ the flowerets fair, because his lip was free
O’ the Muses’ wine note; Comàtas! ‘twas joy, all joy to thee;
Though thou wast hid ‘neath cedarn lid, the bees they meat did bring,
Till thou didst thole, right happy soul, thy twelve months’ prisoning.
And O of the quick thou wert this day! How gladly then with mine
I had kept thy pretty goats i' the hills, the while ‘neath oak or pine
Thou ‘dst lain along and sun me a song, Comatas the divine!” 7.90 So much sang Lycidas and ended; and thereupon “Dear Lycidas” said I, “afield with my herds on the hills I also have learnt of the Nymphs, and there’s many a good song of mine which Rumour may well have carried up to the throne of Zeus. But this of all is far the choicest, this which I will sing now for your delight. Pray give ear, as one should whom the Muses love: (sings) 7.96 The Loves have sneezed, note for sure they have, on poor Simichidas:
For he loves maid Myrto as goats the spring: but where he loves a lass
His dear’st Aratus sighs for a lad. Aristis, dear good man –
And best in fame as best in name, the Lord o’ the Lyre note on high
Beside his holy tripod would let him make melody 0
Aristis knows Aratus’ woes. O bring the lad, sweet Pan,
Sweet Lord of lovely Homolè, bring him unbid to ‘s fere,
Whether Philínus, sooth to say, or other be his dear.
This do, sweet Pan, and never, when slices be too few,
May the leeks note o’ the lads of Arcady beat thee back black and blue;
But O if othergates thou go, may nettles make thy bed
And set thee scratching tooth and nail, scratching from heel to head,
And be thy winter-lodging nigh the Bear up Hebrus way
I’ the hills of Thrace; when summer’s in, mid furthest Africa
Mayst feed thy flock by the Blemyan rock beyond Nile’s earliest spring. 7.115 O come ye away, ye little Loves like apples red-blushing,
From Byblis’ fount and Oecus’ mount that is fair-haired Dion’s note joy,
Come shoot the fair Philinus, shoot me the silly boy
That flouts my friend! Yet after all, the pear’s o’er-ripe to taste,
And the damsels sigh and the damsels say ‘Thy bloom, child, fails thee fast’;
So let’s watch no more his gate before, Aratus o’ this gear, note
But ease our aching feet, note my friend, and let old chanticleer
Cry ‘shiver’ to some other when he the dawn shall sing;
One scholar o’ that school’s note enough to have met his death i' the ring.
‘Tis peace of mind, lad, we must find, and have a beldame nigh
To sit for us and spit for us and bid all ill go by.”
| Theocritus, Idylls (English) (XML Header) [genre: poetry] [word count] [lemma count] [Theoc. Id.]. | ||
| <<Theoc. Id. 7.1 | Theoc. Id. 7.71 (Greek) | >>Theoc. Id. 7.147 |
