§84ἄστρα δὲ φεύγει πυρὶ τῷδʼ αἰθέρος §85ἐς νύχθʼ ἱεράν· §86Παρνησιάδες δʼ ἄβατοι κορυφαὶ §87καταλαμπόμεναι τὴν ἡμερίαν §88ἁψῖδα βροτοῖσι δέχονται.
And the stars flee from this fire of the ether into holy night; and the untrodden peaks of Parnassus shining in the daylight receive for mortals the wheel of day.
The smoke of dry myrrh to the roofs of Phoebus flies.
And the Delphian woman sits upon the holy tripod, singing to the Greeks the cries which Apollo may sound forth.
§94ἀλλʼ, ὦ Φοίβου Δελφοὶ θέραπες, §95τὰς Κασταλίας ἀργυροειδεῖς §96βαίνετε δίνας, καθαραῖς δὲ δρόσοις §97ἀφυδρανάμενοι στείχετε ναούς· §98στόμα τʼ εὔφημον φρουρεῖν ἀγαθόν, §99φήμας τʼ ἀγαθὰς §100τοῖς ἐθέλουσιν μαντεύεσθαι §101γλώσσης ἰδίας ἀποφαίνειν.
But, O Delphian servants of Phoebus, to the silvery eddies of Castalia go, and with pure waters having cleansed yourselves, go to the temple; and it is good to guard the mouth in auspicious silence, and to display good words to those who wish to consult the oracle, uttering them from your own tongue.
§102ἡμεῖς δέ, πόνους οὓς ἐκ παιδὸς §103μοχθοῦμεν ἀεί, πτόρθοισι δάφνης §104στέφεσίν θʼ ἱεροῖς ἐσόδους Φοίβου §105καθαρὰς θήσομεν, ὑγραῖς τε πέδον §106ῥανίσιν νοτερόν· πτηνῶν τʼ ἀγέλας, §107αἳ βλάπτουσιν σέμνʼ ἀναθήματα, §108τόξοισιν ἐμοῖς φυγάδας θήσομεν· §109ὡς γὰρ ἀμήτωρ ἀπάτωρ τε γεγὼς §110τοὺς θρέψαντας §111Φοίβου ναοὺς θεραπεύω.
And we, the labors which since childhood we have ever performed, with branches of laurel and holy wreaths the entrances of Phoebus we shall make pure, and with wet drops the ground we shall moisten; and the flocks of birds, which damage the holy offerings, with my arrows we shall put to flight; for as one born without mother and without father, those who reared me, the temples of Phoebus, I serve.
§112ἄγʼ, ὦ νεηθαλὲς ὦ §113καλλίστας προπόλευμα δά- §114φνας, ἃ τὰν Φοίβου θυμέλαν §115σαίρεις ὑπὸ ναοῖς, §116κήπων ἐξ ἀθανάτων, §117ἵνα δρόσοι τέγγουσʼ ἱεραί, §118ῥοὰν ἀέναον §119παγᾶν ἐκπροϊεῖσαι, §120μυρσίνας ἱερὰν φόβαν·
Come, O fresh-growing, most beautiful servant of the laurel, you who sweep the altar of Phoebus beneath the temple, coming from immortal gardens, where holy dews moisten the ever-flowing stream, sending it forth from the springs, O holy foliage of myrtle!
With this I sweep the floor of the god, all day long, together with the sun's swift wing, serving my daily task.
O Paean, O Paean, well-fared, well-fared may you be, O son of Leto.
§128καλόν γε τὸν πόνον, ὦ §129Φοῖβε, σοὶ πρὸ δόμων λατρεύ- §130ω τιμῶν μαντεῖον ἕδραν· §131κλεινὸς δʼ ὁ πόνος μοι §132θεοῖσιν δούλαν χέρʼ ἔχειν §133οὐ θνατοῖς, ἀλλʼ ἀθανάτοις· §134εὐφάμους δὲ πόνους §135μοχθεῖν οὐκ ἀποκάμνω.
Fair indeed is the labor, O Phoebus, which before your house I serve, honoring your prophetic seat; glorious is the labor for me to have a hand serving the gods, not mortals, but immortals; and these fair labors I do not weary of performing.
§136Φοῖβός μοι γενέτωρ πατήρ· §137τὸν βόσκοντα γὰρ εὐλογῶ, §138τὸ δʼ ὠφέλιμον ἐμοὶ πατέρος §139ὄνομα λέγω §140Φοίβου τοῦ κατὰ ναόν.
Phoebus is my begetting father; for the one who feeds me I praise, and the useful one to me by a father's name I call, Phoebus of the temple.
O Paean, O Paean, well-fared, well-fared may you be, O son of Leto.
§144ἀλλʼ ἐκπαύσω γὰρ μόχθους §145δάφνας ὁλκοῖς, §146χρυσέων δʼ ἐκ τευχέων ῥίψω §147Γαίας παγάν, §148ἃν ἀποχεύονται §149Κασταλίας δῖναι, §149aνοτερὸν ὕδωρ βάλλων, §150ὅσιος ἀπʼ εὐνᾶς ὤν.
But I will make an end of my labors with the sweepings of laurel, and from golden vessels I will pour the spring of Earth, which the eddies of Castalia pour out, throwing the moistening water, being pure from sleep.
Would that thus forever to Phoebus serving I might never cease, or that I might cease with good fortune.
§154ἔα ἔα·
Ah, ah!
§154aφοιτῶσʼ ἤδη λείπουσίν τε §155πτανοὶ Παρνασοῦ κοίτας· §156αὐδῶ μὴ χρίμπτειν θριγκοῖς §157μηδʼ ἐς χρυσήρεις οἴκους — §158μάρψω σʼ αὖ τόξοις, ὦ Ζηνὸς §159κῆρυξ, ὀρνίθων γαμφηλαῖς §160ἰσχὺν νικῶν.
Already they are flying and leaving their nests on Parnassus, the birds; I command you not to approach the cornices, nor the gold-adorned house— I will catch you again with my arrows, O herald of Zeus, overcoming with your beak the strength of other birds.
οὐκ ἄλλᾳ §163φοινικοφαῆ πόδα κινήσεις;
Will you not move elsewhere your red-shining foot?
Not at all would the lyre of Phoebus, singing with you, save you from my arrows.
§166πάραγε πτέρυγας· §167λίμνας ἐπίβα τᾶς Δηλιάδος· §168αἱμάξεις, εἰ μὴ πείσῃ, §169τὰς καλλιφθόγγους ᾠδάς.
Turn aside your wings; go to the Delian lake; you will stain with blood, if you do not obey, your sweet-sounding songs.
§170ἔα ἔα·
Ah, ah!
§170aτίς ὅδʼ ὀρνίθων καινὸς προσέβα;
What new bird is this that approaches?
Surely you are not going to place under the cornices a nest of straw for your children?
§173ψαλμοί σʼ εἴρξουσιν τόξων.
The twang of my bow will keep you away.
§174οὐ πείσῃ;
Will you not obey?
χωρῶν δίναις §175ταῖς Ἀλφειοῦ παιδούργει, §176ἢ νάπος Ἴσθμιον, §177ὡς ἀναθήματα μὴ βλάπτηται §178ναοί θʼ οἱ Φοίβου
Go and breed in the eddies of Alpheus, or in the Isthmian glen, so that the offerings are not damaged, nor the temples of Phoebus.
§179κτείνειν δʼ ὑμᾶς αἰδοῦμαι §180τοὺς θεῶν ἀγγέλλοντας φήμας §181θνατοῖς· οἷς δʼ ἔγκειμαι μόχθοις, §182Φοίβῳ δουλεύσω, κοὐ λήξω §183τοὺς βόσκοντας θεραπεύων.
But to kill you I am reluctant, you who announce to mortals the messages of the gods; but in the labors to which I am bound, I will serve Phoebus, and will not cease caring for those who nourish me.
§184— οὐκ ἐν ταῖς ζαθέαις Ἀθά- §185ναις εὐκίονες ἦσαν αὐ- §186λαὶ θεῶν μόνον, οὐδʼ ἀγυι- §186aάτιδες θεραπεῖαι· §187ἀλλὰ καὶ παρὰ Λοξίᾳ §188τῷ Λατοῦς διδύμων προσώ- §189πων καλλιβλέφαρον φῶς.
— Not only in sacred Athens were there fine-columned courts of the gods, nor street worship; but also in the house of Loxias, the son of Leto, is the twin-fronted, beautiful-eyed light of a temple.
§190— ἰδοὺ τάνδʼ, ἄθρησον, §191Λερναῖον ὕδραν ἐναίρει §192χρυσέαις ἅρπαις ὁ Διὸς παῖς· §193φίλα, πρόσιδʼ ὄσσοις.
— Look here, behold, the son of Zeus is slaying the Lernean hydra with golden sickles; dear friend, look with your eyes.
§194— ὁρῶ.
— I see.
καὶ πέλας ἄλλος αὐ- §195τοῦ πανὸν πυρίφλεκτον αἴ- §196ρει τις — ἆρʼ ὃς ἐμαῖσι μυ- §197θεύεται παρὰ πήναις, §198ἀσπιστὰς Ἰόλαος, ὃς §199κοινοὺς αἰρόμενος πόνους §200Δίῳ παιδὶ συναντλεῖ;
And near him another is raising a blazing torch— is it the one who in my weaving is spoken of, the shield-bearer Iolaus, who sharing the common labors endured them together with the son of Zeus?
§201— καὶ μὰν τόνδʼ ἄθρησον §202πτεροῦντος ἔφεδρον ἵππου· §203τὰν πῦρ πνέουσαν ἐναίρει §204τρισώματον ἀλκάν.
— And behold this one sitting upon the winged horse; he is slaying the fire-breathing three-bodied monster.
σκέψαι κλόνον ἐν τείχεσ- §207σι λαΐνοισι Γιγάντων.
Look at the battle of the Giants on the stone walls.
§208— ὦ φίλαι, ὧδε δερκόμεσθα.
— O friends, here we look.