§7.79ζωὸν ἐόντα κακαῖσιν ἀτασθαλίαισιν ἄνακτος, §7.80ὥς τέ νιν αἱ σιμαὶ λειμωνόθε φέρβον ἰοῖσαι §7.81κέδρον ἐς ἁδεῖαν μαλακοῖς ἄνθεσσι μέλισσαι, §7.82οὕνεκά οἱ γλυκὺ Μοῖσα κατὰ στόματος χέε νέκταρ.
while being alive, because of the wicked outrage of the king, how the flat-nosed bees, coming from the meadow, fed him in the sweet cedar chest with soft flowers, those bees, because the Muse had poured sweet nectar down his mouth.
§7.83ὦ μακαριστὲ Κομάτα, τύ θην τάδε τερπνὰ πεπόνθεις, §7.84καὶ τὺ κατεκλᾴσθης ἐς λάρνακα, καὶ τὺ μελισσᾶν §7.85κηρία φερβόμενος ἔτος ὥριον ἐξεπόνασας.
O blessed Comatas, you indeed experienced these delightful things, and you were shut up in the chest, and you, feeding on the honeycombs of the bees, completed the seasonal year of toil.
§7.86αἴθʼ ἐπʼ ἐμεῦ ζωοῖς ἐναρίθμιος ὤφελες εἶμεν, §7.87ὥς τοι ἐγὼν ἐνόμευον ἀνʼ ὤρεα τὰς καλὰς αἶγας §7.88φωνᾶς εἰσαΐων, τὺ δʼ ὑπὸ δρυσὶν ἢ ὑπὸ πεύκαις §7.89ἁδὺ μελισδόμενος κατεκέκλισο θεῖε Κομάτα.
Would that you had been numbered among the living in my time, so that I might have herded your beautiful goats along the mountains, listening to your voice, while you lay under oaks or under pines, sweetly singing, divine Comatas.
§7.90χὡ μὲν τόσσʼ εἰπὼν ἀπεπαύσατο· τὸν δὲ μετʼ αὖθις §7.91κἠγὼ τοῖʼ ἐφάμαν· Λυκίδα φίλε, πολλὰ μὲν ἄλλα §7.92νύμφαι κἠμὲ δίδαξαν ἀνʼ ὤρεα βουκολέοντα §7.93ἐσθλά, τά που καὶ Ζηνὸς ἐπὶ θρόνον ἄγαγε φάμα· §7.94ἀλλὰ τόγʼ ἐκ πάντων μέγʼ ὑπείροχον, ᾧ τυ γεραίρειν §7.95ἀρξεῦμʼ· ἀλλʼ ὑπάκουσον, ἐπεὶ φίλος ἔπλεο Μοίσαις.
And he, having said so much, ceased; and after him, I too spoke to him thus: "Dear Lycidas, many other noble songs the Nymphs taught me too as I was herding cattle along the mountains, the fame of which has surely carried them even to the throne of Zeus; but this one, by far the most pre-eminent of all, with which to honor you I shall begin; but listen, since you have become dear to the Muses.
§7.96Σιμιχίδᾳ μὲν Ἔρωτες ἐπέπταρον· ἦ γὰρ ὁ δειλὸς §7.97τόσσον ἐρᾷ Μυρτοῦς, ὅσον εἴαρος αἶγες ἐρᾶντι.
Upon Simichidas the Loves sneezed; for indeed the wretched man loves Myrto as much as goats love the spring.
But Aratus, who is in all things most dear to that man, holds a desire for a boy deep within his heart.
οἶδεν Ἄριστις, §7.100ἐσθλὸς ἀνήρ, μέγʼ ἄριστος, ὃν οὐδέ κεν αὐτὸς ἀείδειν §7.101Φοῖβος σὺν φόρμιγγι παρὰ τριπόδεσσι μεγαίροι, §7.102ὡς ἐκ παιδὸς Ἄρατος ὑπʼ ὀστέον αἴθετʼ ἔρωτι.
Aristis knows— a noble man, by far the best, whom not even Phoebus himself with his lyre would grudge to sing beside his tripods— how Aratus is burned with love for a boy to the very bone.
§7.103τόν μοι Πάν, Ὁμόλας ἐρατὸν πέδον ὅστε λέλογχας, §7.104ἄκλητον κείνοιο φίλας ἐς χεῖρας ἐρείσαις, §7.105εἴτʼ ἐστʼ ἆρα Φιλῖνος ὁ μαλθακὸς εἴτέ τις ἄλλος.
O Pan, who have allotted to you the lovely plain of Homola, lay him unsummoned into the dear hands of that beloved one, whether indeed it is the tender Philinus or someone else.
§7.106κἢν μὲν ταῦτʼ ἔρδῃς ὦ Πὰν φίλε, μή τί τυ παῖδες §7.107Ἀρκαδικοὶ σκίλλαισιν ὑπὸ πλευράς τε καὶ ὤμους §7.108τανίκα μαστίσδοιεν, ὅτε κρέα τυτθὰ παρείη· §7.109εἰ δʼ ἄλλως νεύσαις, κατὰ μὲν χρόα πάντʼ ὀνύχεσσι §7.110δακνόμενος κνάσαιο καὶ ἐν κνίδαισι καθεύδοις, §7.111εἴης δʼ Ἠδωνῶν μὲν ἐν ὤρεσι χείματι μέσσῳ §7.112Ἕβρον πὰρ ποταμὸν τετραμμένος ἐγγύθεν ἄρκτω, §7.113ἐν δὲ θέρει πυμάτοισι παρʼ Αἰθιόπεσσι νομεύοις §7.114πέτρᾳ ὕπο Βλεμύων, ὅθεν οὐκέτι Νεῖλος ὁρατός.
And if you do this, dear Pan, may the Arcadian boys never scourge your ribs and shoulders with squills at that time when little meat is present; but if you should nod otherwise, may you scratch yourself being bitten by nails all over your skin, and sleep in nettles, and may you be in the mountains of the Edonians in midwinter, turned toward the river Hebrus close to the Great Bear, and in summer may you herd among the ultimate Ethiopians, under the rock of the Blemyeans, whence the Nile is no longer visible.
§7.115ὔμμες δʼ Ὑετίδος καὶ Βυβλίδος ἁδὺ λιπόντες §7.116νᾶμα καὶ Οἰκεῦντα, ξανθᾶς ἕδος αἰπὺ Διώνας, §7.117ὦ μάλοισιν Ἔρωτες ἐρευθομένοισιν ὁμοῖοι, §7.118βάλλετέ μοι τόξοισι τὸν ἱμερόεντα Φιλῖνον, §7.119βάλλετʼ, ἐπεὶ τὸν ξεῖνον ὁ δύσμορος οὐκ ἐλεεῖ μευ.
And you, leaving the sweet stream of Hyetis and Byblis, and Oikeus, the steep seat of golden Dione, O Loves who are like reddening apples, shoot with your bows for me the lovely Philinus, shoot him, since that wretched man does not pity my guest.
§7.120καὶ δὴ μὰν ἀπίοιο πεπαίτερος, αἱ δὲ γυναῖκες §7.121αἰαῖ" φαντὶ "Φιλῖνε, τό τοι καλὸν ἄνθος ἀπορρεῖ. §7.122μηκέτι τοι φρουρέωμες ἐπὶ προθύροισιν Ἄρατε, §7.123μηδὲ πόδας τρίβωμες· ὁ δʼ ὄρθριος ἄλλον ἀλέκτωρ §7.124κοκκύζων νάρκαισιν ἀνιαραῖσι διδοίη, §7.125εἷς δʼ ἀπὸ τᾶσδε φέριστε Μόλων ἄγχοιτο παλαίστρας, §7.126ἄμμιν δʼ ἁσυχία τε μέλοι γραία τε παρείη, §7.127ἅτις ἐπιφθύζοισα τὰ μὴ καλὰ νόσφιν ἐρύκοι.
Indeed, he is already riper than a pear, and the women say: "Alas, Philinus, your beautiful flower is dropping away." Let us no longer keep watch at his vestibule, Aratus, nor wear out our feet; let the morning cock, crowing, deliver others to grievous numbness, and let Molon alone, that most excellent man, be choked by this wrestling-ground, but let peace be our care, and let an old woman be present, who by spitting may keep ugly things far away.
§7.128τόσσʼ ἐφάμαν· ὁ δέ μοι τὸ λαγωβόλον, ἁδὺ γελάσσας §7.129ὡς πάρος, ἐκ Μοισᾶν ξεινήιον ὤπασεν εἶμεν.
I spoke so much; and he, laughing sweetly as before, gave me the staff to be a guest-gift from the Muses.
§7.130χὡ μὲν ἀποκλίνας ἐπʼ ἀριστερὰ τὰν ἐπὶ Πύξας §7.131εἷρφʼ ὁδόν, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ τε καὶ Εὔκριτος ἐς Φρασιδάυω §7.132στραφθέντες χὡ καλὸς Ἀμύντιχος ἔν τε βαθείαις §7.133ἁδείας σχοίνοιο χαμευνίσιν ἐκλίνθημες §7.134ἔν τε νεοτμάτοισι γεγαθότες οἰναρέοισι.
And he, turning aside to the left, went on the road to Pyxa, but Eucritus and I, turning to the house of Phrasidamus, and the beautiful Amyntichus, reclined on deep beds of sweet rushes, and in newly cut vine-leaves, rejoicing.
§7.135πολλαὶ δʼ ἁμὶν ὕπερθε κατὰ κρατὸς δονέοντο §7.136αἴγειροι πτελέαι τε· τὸ δʼ ἐγγύθεν ἱερὸν ὕδωρ §7.137Νυμφᾶν ἐξ ἄντροιο κατειβόμενον κελάρυζε.
And many poplars and elms shook above our heads; and nearby, the sacred water falling down from the cave of the Nymphs bubbled.
§7.138τοὶ δὲ ποτὶ σκιαραῖς ὀροδαμνίσιν αἰθαλίωνες §7.139τέττιγες λαλαγεῦντες ἔχον πόνον· ἁ δʼ ὀλολυγὼν §7.140τηλόθεν ἐν πυκιναῖσι βάτων τρύζεσκεν ἀκάνθαις.
And on the shady branches the dusky cicadas chirping kept up their toil; and the tree-frog murmured far off in the dense thorn-bushes.
Larks and finches sang, the turtledove moaned, tawny bees flitted about the springs.
§7.143πάντʼ ὦσδεν θέρεος μάλα πίονος, ὦσδε δʼ ὀπώρας.
Everything smelled of very rich summer, and smelled of autumn.
§7.144ὄχναι μὲν πὰρ ποσσί, παρὰ πλευραῖσι δὲ μᾶλα §7.145δαψιλέως ἁμῖν ἐκυλίνδετο· τοὶ δʼ ἐκέχυντο §7.146ὄρπακες βραβίλοισι καταβρίθοντες ἔραζε· §7.147τετράενες δὲ πίθων ἀπελύετο κρατὸς ἄλειφαρ.
Pears indeed at our feet, and apples beside our ribs rolled abundantly; and the branches poured down to the earth, weighed down with plums; and the four-year-old seal was loosened from the head of the jars.
§7.148νύμφαι Κασταλίδες Παρνάσιον αἶπος ἔχοισαι, §7.149ἆρά γέ πᾳ τοιόνδε Φόλω κατὰ λάινον ἄντρον §7.150κρατῆρʼ Ἡρακλῆι γέρων ἐστήσατο Χείρων;
Castalian Nymphs holding the Parnassian steep, did ever the aged Chiron in the rocky cave of Pholus set up such a mixing-bowl for Heracles?
§7.151ἆρά γέ πᾳ τῆνον τὸν ποιμένα τὸν ποτʼ Ἀνάπῳ, §7.152τὸν κρατερὸν Πολύφαμον, ὃς ὤρεσι νᾶας ἔβαλλε, §7.153τοῖον νέκταρ ἔπεισε κατʼ αὐλία ποσσὶ χορεῦσαι, §7.154οἷον δὴ τόκα πῶμα διεκρανάσατε Νύμφαι §7.155βωμῷ πὰρ Δάματρος ἀλῳάδος;
Did such a nectar ever persuade that shepherd by the Anapus, the mighty Polyphemus who used to pelt ships with mountains, to dance with his feet in his cave, as the drink you Nymphs tempered then beside the altar of Demeter of the threshing-floor?