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The Greek Anthology, Volume IV: Book 10: The Hortatory and Admonitory Epigrams. Book 11: The Convivial and Satirical Epigrams. Book 12: Strato's Musa Puerilis

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The Greek Anthology ('Gathering of Flowers') is the name given to a collection of about 4500 short Greek poems (called epigrams but usually not epigrammatic) by about 300 composers. To the collection (called 'Stephanus', wreath or garland) made and contributed to by Meleager of Gadara (1st century BCE) was added another by Philippus of Thessalonica (late 1st century CE), a The Greek Anthology ('Gathering of Flowers') is the name given to a collection of about 4500 short Greek poems (called epigrams but usually not epigrammatic) by about 300 composers. To the collection (called 'Stephanus', wreath or garland) made and contributed to by Meleager of Gadara (1st century BCE) was added another by Philippus of Thessalonica (late 1st century CE), a third by Diogenianus (2nd century), and much later a fourth, called the 'Circle', by Agathias of Myrina. These (lost) and others (also lost) were partly incorporated, arranged according to contents, by Constantinus Cephalas (early 10th century?) into fifteen books now preserved in a single manuscript of the Palatine Library at Heidelberg. The grand collection was rearranged and revised by the monk Maximus Planudes (14th century) who also added epigrams lost from Cephalas's compilation. The fifteen books of the Palatine Anthology are: I, Christian Epigrams; II, Descriptions of Statues; III, Inscriptions in a temple at Cyzicus; IV, Prefaces of Meleager, Philippus, and Agathias; V, Amatory Epigrams; VI, Dedicatory; VII, Sepulchral; VIII, Epigrams of St. Gregory; IX, Declamatory; X, Hortatory and Admonitory; XI, Convivial and Satirical; XII, Strato's 'Musa Puerilis'; XIII, Metrical curiosities; XIV, Problems, Riddles, and Oracles; XV, Miscellanies. Book XVI is the Planudean Appendix: Epigrams on works of art. Outstanding among the poets are Meleager, Antipater of Sidon, Crinagoras, Palladas, Agathias, Paulus Silentiarius. The Loeb Classical Library edition is in five volumes. Volume I contains Books IVI; Volume II, Books VIIVIII; Volume III, Book IX; Volume IV, Books XXII; Volume V, Books XIIIXVI.


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The Greek Anthology ('Gathering of Flowers') is the name given to a collection of about 4500 short Greek poems (called epigrams but usually not epigrammatic) by about 300 composers. To the collection (called 'Stephanus', wreath or garland) made and contributed to by Meleager of Gadara (1st century BCE) was added another by Philippus of Thessalonica (late 1st century CE), a The Greek Anthology ('Gathering of Flowers') is the name given to a collection of about 4500 short Greek poems (called epigrams but usually not epigrammatic) by about 300 composers. To the collection (called 'Stephanus', wreath or garland) made and contributed to by Meleager of Gadara (1st century BCE) was added another by Philippus of Thessalonica (late 1st century CE), a third by Diogenianus (2nd century), and much later a fourth, called the 'Circle', by Agathias of Myrina. These (lost) and others (also lost) were partly incorporated, arranged according to contents, by Constantinus Cephalas (early 10th century?) into fifteen books now preserved in a single manuscript of the Palatine Library at Heidelberg. The grand collection was rearranged and revised by the monk Maximus Planudes (14th century) who also added epigrams lost from Cephalas's compilation. The fifteen books of the Palatine Anthology are: I, Christian Epigrams; II, Descriptions of Statues; III, Inscriptions in a temple at Cyzicus; IV, Prefaces of Meleager, Philippus, and Agathias; V, Amatory Epigrams; VI, Dedicatory; VII, Sepulchral; VIII, Epigrams of St. Gregory; IX, Declamatory; X, Hortatory and Admonitory; XI, Convivial and Satirical; XII, Strato's 'Musa Puerilis'; XIII, Metrical curiosities; XIV, Problems, Riddles, and Oracles; XV, Miscellanies. Book XVI is the Planudean Appendix: Epigrams on works of art. Outstanding among the poets are Meleager, Antipater of Sidon, Crinagoras, Palladas, Agathias, Paulus Silentiarius. The Loeb Classical Library edition is in five volumes. Volume I contains Books IVI; Volume II, Books VIIVIII; Volume III, Book IX; Volume IV, Books XXII; Volume V, Books XIIIXVI.

32 review for The Greek Anthology, Volume IV: Book 10: The Hortatory and Admonitory Epigrams. Book 11: The Convivial and Satirical Epigrams. Book 12: Strato's Musa Puerilis

  1. 5 out of 5

    Shyam

    Enjoy thy possessions as if about to die, and use thy goods sparingly as if about to live. That man is wise who understands both these commandments, and hath applied a measure both to thrift and unthrift. (X, 26) __________ Every woman loves more than a man; but out of shame she hides the sting of love, although she be mad for it. (X, 120) cf below: Greater is the heat; by as much as a man is stronger than a woman, by so much is this desire. (XII, 17) __________ Book XII, Strato's Musa Puerilis Enjoy thy possessions as if about to die, and use thy goods sparingly as if about to live. That man is wise who understands both these commandments, and hath applied a measure both to thrift and unthrift. (X, 26) __________ Every woman loves more than a man; but out of shame she hides the sting of love, although she be mad for it. (X, 120) cf below: Greater is the heat; by as much as a man is stronger than a woman, by so much is this desire. (XII, 17) __________ Book XII, Strato's Musa Puerilis is a highlight. __________ Book X - The Hortatory and Admonitory Epigrams . . . and flowers spring up in the land. (4) The deep lies becalmed and blue. (14) Already the fair-foliaged field, at her fruitful birth-tide, is aflower with roses bursting from their buds. (16) If you see a beauty, strike while the iron is hot. Say what you mean, grab his testicles full-handed. But if you say “I reverence you and will be like a brother,” shame will close your road to accomplishment. (20) For men who are fortunate all life is short, but for those who fall into misfortune one night is infinite time. (28) All that belongs to mortals is moral, and all things pass us by; or if not, we pass them by. (31) A time to love, and a time to wed, and a time to rest. (38) Never give up the friend you have and seek another, listening to the words of worthless men. (40) The wealth of the soul is the only true wealth; the rest has more trouble than the possessions are worth. Him one may rightly call lord of many possessions and wealthy who is able to use his riches. But if a man wears himself out over accounts, ever eager to heap wealth on wealth, his labour shall be like that of the bee in its many-celled honeycomb, for others shall gather the honey. (41) Six hours are most suitable for labour, and the four that follow, when set forth in letters, say to. Men “Live.” (43) Silence is men’s chief learning. The sage Pythagoras himself is my witness. He, knowing himself how to speak, taught others to be silent, having discovered this potent drug to ensure tranquility. (46) You are wealthy. And what is the end of it? When you depart do you trail your riches after you as you are being pulled to the tomb? You gather wealth spending time, but you cannot pile up a heavier measure of life. (60) All life is a stage and a play: either learn to play laying your gravity aside, or bear with life’s pains. (72) So being nothing we are fed with vanity, pasturing on air drawn from a breath of wind. (75) Live by reason, and thou shalt not be in want. (115) A friend is a very difficult thing to find, but many or nearly all are friends only in name. (125) __________ Book XI - The Convivial and Satirical Epigrams No one, Charidemus, can constantly poke his own wife and take hart-felt pleasure in it. Our nature is so fond of titillation, such a cluster after foreign flesh, rthatr it persists in whoring stealthily after strange quits. (7) Drink and love now, Democrates, for we shall not drink for ever or be for ever with the lads. Let us bind our heads with garlands and scent ourselves before others bear flowers and scent to our tombs n now may my bones inside me drink mostly wine, and when they. Are dead let Deucalion’s flood cover them. (19) Yes, my dear Aphrodite, I who could once do it five and nine times can manage hardly one from early night to sunrise. And, oh dear, this thing (it has often been half-dead) is gradually drying outright. Tis is the calamity of Termerus that I suffer. Old age, old age, was shalt thou do later, if thou comest, since already I am thus languid. (30) But bind my head with narcissus. And let me taste the slanting flute, and anoint my limbs with. Saffron. Ointment, wet my gullet with wine of Mytilene and mate me with a virgin who will love her nest. (34) I care not for the wealth of Gyges the King of Sardis, nor does gold take me captive, and I praise snot tyrants. I care to drench my beard with scent and crown my had with roses. I care for today; who knows tomorrow? (47, Anacreon) Enjoy the season of thy prime; all things soon decline: one summer turns a kid into a shaggy he-goat. (51) The women mock me for being old, bidding me look at the wreck of my years in the mirror. But I, as I approach the end of my life, are not whether I have white hair or black, and with sweet-scented ointments and crowns of lovely flowers and wine I make heavy care to cease. (54) Give to drink, that wine may scatter my troubles, warming again my chilled heart. (55) Drink, old man, and live. (57) I wish not for gold, nor for the myriad cities of the world, nor for all that Homer said Thebes contained, but I would have the rounded bowl overflow with wine and my lips be bathed by a perpetual stream. I would have the gossiping company of those I revere drink with me while over-industrious folk labour at the vines. That for me is the great wealth ever dear to me, and when I hold the bowl I care naught for consuls resplendent with gold. (58) A physician, a foeman, stood by me yesterday when I was ill, forbidding me the nectar of the cups, and told me to drink water, an empty-headed fellow how had never learnt that Homer calls wine the strength of men. [Iliad, XI, 706] (61) Pbilinus when he was young married an old woman, in his old age he married a girl of twelve, but he never knew Venus at the right season. Therefore sowing formerly in barren land he remained childless, and now has married a wife for others to enjoy and is deprived of both blessings. (70) Do you suppose that your beard creates brains and therefore you grow that fly-flapper? Take my advice and shave it off at once; for that beard is a creator of lice and not of brains. (156) Ascend hither to the depths; for now thou hast descended to the heights. (292) Thou art the wealth of a rich man, but the soul of a pauper, you who art rich for thy heirs and poor for thyself. (294) Thou hast not insulted me, but my poverty; but if Zeus dwelt on earth in poverty, he himself also would have suffered insult. (302) Child of shamelessness, most ignorant of men, nursing of folly, tell why dost thou hold thy head high, knowing nothing? (305) It is best to praise, and blaming is the cause of enmity, but yet to speak ill of others is Attic honey. (341) Silvanus has two servants, Wine and Sleep; he no longer loves either the Muses or his friends, but the one flowing copiously into his head charms him from bed, and the other keeps him in his bedroom snoring. (343) This is the goal that awaits you for the rest of your life. (346) You have such a heavy crop on your hairy face that you ought to have it cut with scythes and not with scissors. (368) If solitaries (monks), why so many? And if so many, how again are they solitary? O crowd of solitaries who give the lie to solitude! (384) __________ Book XII - Strato’s Musa Puerilis But look for sweet Love mingled with the jolly Graces and Bacchus. No grave face suits them. (2) My dear Diodrus, the fore pokers of boys fall into three shapes; learn their names. Well, name the one of still untouched maturity “Lulu”; “coco” the one just beginning to swell out; but the one already heaving to your hand-speak of it as “lizard”. As for the more perfect specimens, you know what you ought to call it. (3) I like them pale, and I also love those with a skin the colour fo honey, and the fair to; and on the other hand I am taken by the black-haired. Nor do I dismiss brown eyes; but above all I love sparkling black eyes. (5) Just now, as I was passing the place where they make garlands, I saw a boy interweaving flowers with a bunch of berries. Nor did I pass by unfounded, but standing by him I said quietly, “For how much will you sell me your garland?” He are redder than his roses, and turning down his head said, “Go right away in case my father sees you.” I bought some wreaths as a pretence, and when I reached home crowned the gods, beseeching them to grant me him. (8) Unhappy they whose life is loveless; for without love it is not easy to do aught or to say aught. I, for example, am now all too slow, but were I to catch sight of Xeniphilus I would fly swifter than lightning. Therefore I bid all men not to shun but to pursue sweet desire; Love is the whetstone of the soul. (18) A voice which is honey . . . and lips that are honey to kiss . . . (22) Winged Love has fixed me, inscribing on me “Spoils won from Chastity.” (23) Your leg, Nicander, is getting hairy, but take care lest your back-side also gets the same unnoticed. Then shall you know how rare lovers are. But even now reflect that youth is irrevocable. (30) . . . the most blessed of all men. (34) Let it be for goat-mounting herds to press in their arms hairy pansy-boys. (41) All public things disgust me. (43) . . . whom soft-haired Love lit with lovely bloom. (55) . . . excels all in brilliance as much as the lovely rose outshines the other flowers of spring. (58) If I see Thero, I see everything, but if I see everything and no Thero, I again see nothing. (60) . . . a sweet fire smouldering with desire. (63) I, too, should taste ambrosia. (68) . . . the barbed arrows of desire dipped in fire. (76) O Phanion, little light that set ablaze in my heart a great fire. (82) But bringing the little torch of Cypris with scented flame . . . (83) . . . the sapling of violet-crowned Aphrodite. (91) Let it consume away, the long labour of the Mues; for my mind is cast intbhe fire, bearing the burden of a sweet pain. (99) . . . having bound him with the purple cord of Cypris. (112) Away with the long labour of wisdom; this one thing alone I know, that Love brought to naught the high mind of Zeus himself. (117) If that be a sin, I sinned. (118) I kissed him all dabbled with blood as he was, but the blood was sweeter to me than myrrh. (123) . . . thou shalt have the sweet wound, burnt by biting honey. (126) . . . imaging my soul a loveliness which is living fire. (127) These words we engraved on. No oak or pine, no, nor on a wall, but Love burnt them into my heart. But if any man deny it, believe him not. (130) . . . and I who say it alone know the truth. (130) For now that I have kissed Antiochus, fairest of our youth, I have drunk the sweet honey of the soul. (133) Sleep, I implore you. (136) Learning is a medicine that cures every ill. (150) My life’s cable, Mysicus, is made fast to thee; in thee is all the breath that is left to my soul. (159) 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. (159) . . . return the Cypris, holding a golden writing tablet (162) 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 Eubiotuas, two flowers of Persuasion and Friendship. (163) Sweet it is to mix with wine the bees’ sugary liquor . . . (164) But receive me, who sail on the sea of Cypris, into thy harbour. (167) For to a lover’s mind a short time is as a thousand years. (171) 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. (188) 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. (189) And chief among them, look, flowers Milesius, like a rose shining with its sweet-scented petals. (195) If thou glories in thy beauty, know that the rose too blooms, but withers of a sudden and is cast away on the dunghill. To blossom and to beauty the same time is allotted, and envious tie withers both together. (2340 Who can tell if his beloved begins to pass his prime, if he is ever with him and never separated? Who that pleased yesterday can fail to please to-day, and if he please now, what can befall him to make him displease tomorrow. (248) Love hath wrought for thee, Cypris, gathering with his own hands . . . a wreath of every blossom to cozen the heart. (256) I, the flourish that announce the last lap’s finish, most trusty keeper of the bounds of written pages, say that he who hath completed his task, including in this roll the work of al poets gathered into one, is Meleager, and that it was for Diocles he wove from flowers this wreath of verse, whose memory shall be evergreen. Curled in coils like the back of a snake, I am set here enthroned beside the last lines of his learned work. (257) Perchance someone in future years, listening to these trifles of mine, will think these pains of love were all my own. No! I ever scribble this and that for this and that boyy-lover, since some god gave me this gift. (258)

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