This selection from Book 5 of the Greek Anthology contains all the epigrams written before the middle of the first century A.D., as listed in three editions:
(H) A.S.F.Gow & D.L.Page, "The Greek Anthology: Hellenistic Epigrams"
(Ph) A.S.F.Gow & D.L.Page, "The Greek Anthology: The Garland of Philip and Some Contemporary Epigrams"
(F) D.L.Page, "Further Greek Epigrams"
The labels in green are the numbers assigned to the epigrams in one of these editions. The labels in red are their numbers within the Anthology.
Translations of most of the epigrams are already available elsewhere, as indicated by the links. The translations of the remaining epigrams are taken from the edition by W.R.Paton (1916-18), but have been modified to remove some of the archaic language. Click on G to go to the Greek text of each epigram.
[5] STATYLLIUS FLACCUS { Ph 1 } G
To faithless Napē Flaccus gave myself, this silver lamp, the faithful confidant of the loves of the night ; and now I droop at her bedside, looking on the lewdness of the forsworn girl. But you, Flaccus, lie awake, tormented by cruel care, and both of us are burning far away from each other.
Callimachus (27)
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Cypris, if you save those at sea, save me, beloved goddess, who perish ship-wrecked on land.
O guardian of the surf-beaten shore, I send you, Cypris, these little cakes and simple gifts of sacrifice. For to-morrow I shall cross the broad Ionian Sea, hasting to the bosom of my Eidothea. Shine favourable on my love, and on my boat, you who are queen alike of the chamber and of the shore.
I neither wish to marry a young girl nor an old woman. The one I pity, the other I revere. Neither sour grape nor raisin would I have, but a beauty ripe for the chamber of Love.
Callimachus (64)
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Sweet is fruition, who denies it ? but when it demands money it becomes bitterer than hellebore.
You fell in rain of gold on Danaē, Olympian Zeus, that the child might yield to you as to a gift, and not tremble before you as before a god.
Zeus bought Danaē for gold, and I buy you for a gold coin. I can't give more than Zeus did.
A young girl increases her little store not by her art, but by her nature.
{adapted from the translation by M.Johnson & T.Ryan}
Lyde, who renders service to three men at one and the same time, one over her belly, the other below, and another from above, said: "I let in the boy-lover, the woman-lover, and the violence-lover. If you're urgent, even if you get in alongside two others, don't hold back!"
I fell in love, I kissed, I was favoured, I enjoyed, I am loved ; but who am I, and who is she, and how it befell, Cypris alone knows.
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Beauty without charm only pleases us, but does not hold us ; it is like a bait floating without a hook.
My soul was on my lips as I was kissing Agathōn. Poor soul ! she came hoping to cross over to him.
I throw the apple at you, and you, if you love me from your heart, take it and give me of your maidenhead ; but if your thoughts be what I pray they are not, take it still and reflect how short-lived is beauty.
I am an apple ; one who loves you throws me at you. But consent, Xanthippe ; both you and I decay.
[81] DIONYSIUS THE SOPHIST { F 1 } G
You with the roses, rosy is your charm ; but what do you sell, yourself or the roses, or both ?
[82] DIONYSIUS THE SOPHIST { F 2 } G
Proud waitress of the bath, why do you bathe me so fiercely ? Before I have stripped I feel the fire.
Oh, would I were the wind, that walking on the shore you might bare your bosom and take me to you as I blow.
Oh, would I were a pink rose, that your hand might pluck me to give to your snowy breasts.
I send you sweet perfume, ministering to scent with scent, even as one who to Bacchus offers the flowing gift of Bacchus.
I send you sweet perfume, not so much honouring you as it ; for you can perfume the perfume.
You have Hera's eyes, Melite, and Athena's hands, the breasts of Aphrodite, and the feet of Thetis. Blessed is he who looks on you, thrice blessed he who hears you talk, a demigod he who kisses you, and a god he who takes you to wife.
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If anyone blame me because, a skilled servant of Love, I go to the chase, my eyes armed with birdlime to catch ladies, let him know that Zeus and Hades and the Lord of the Sea were slaves of violent desire. If the gods are such and they bid men follow their example, what wrong do I do in learning their deeds ?
He. Good day, my dear. She. Good day. He. Who is she who is walking in front of you ? She. What is that to you ? He. I have a reason for asking. She. My mistress. He. May I hope? She. What do you want? He. A night. She. What have you for her ? He. Gold. She. Then take heart. He. So much {showing the amount}. She. You can't.
[106] DIOTIMUS OF MILETUS { Ph 1 } G
Granny, dear nurse, why do you bark at me when I approach; and cast me into torments twice as cruel. You accompany a lovely girl, and look how treading in her steps I go my own way, only gazing at her sweet form. Why be jealous of eyes, ill-fated nurse ? We are allowed to look on the forms of even the immortals.
That persistently cruel Philistiŏn, who never tolerated an admirer unless he had money, seems less insufferable now than formerly. It is not a great miracle her seeming so, but I don't believe her nature is changed. The merciless asp grows tamer at times, but when it bites, it always means death.
Cornelius' beauty melts me ; but I fear this flame, which is already becoming a fierce fire.
Son of illustrious Megistocles, I beseech you, not even though he seem to you more precious than your two eyes, though he be glowing from the bath of the Graces, do not hang around the lovely boy. Neither gentle nor simple-hearted is he, but courted by many, and no novice in love. Beware, my friend, and fan not the flame.
I am never going to turn into gold, and let some one else become a bull or the melodious swan of the shore. Such tricks I leave to Zeus, and instead of becoming a bird I will give Corinna my two obols.
{translated by A.S.F.Gow & D.L.Page}
I praise the dancing girl from Asia, her who quivers from her tender finger-tips in lascivious postures, not because she commands every gesture of passion, nor because she flings so tenderly her hands this way and that, but because she knows how to dance around the worn-out peg, and does not shun the wrinkles of age. She tongues and tickles and hugs, and when she throws her leg across, she resurrects the club from Hades.
Why so gloomy, and what do these untidy ruffled locks mean, Philaenis, and those eyes suffused with tears ? Did you see your lover with a rival on his lap ? Tell me ; I know a cure for sorrow. You cry, but don't confess ; in vain you seek to deny ; eyes are more to be trusted than the tongue.
By your majesty, Cythereia, I swore to keep away two nights from Hedyliŏn, and knowing the complaint of my poor heart, methinks you did smile. For I will not support the second, and I cast my oath to the winds. I choose rather to be impious to you for her sake than by keeping my oath to you to die of piety.
Poseidippus (I)
To his Jug
Round, well-moulded, one-eared, long-necked, babbling with your little mouth, merry waitress of Bacchus and the Muses and Cythereia, sweetly-laughing treasuress of our club, why when I am sober are you full and when I get tipsy do you become sober ? You don't keep the laws of conviviality.
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Which is it ? is the garland the rose of Dionysius, or is he the garland's rose ? I think the garland is less lovely.
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Callimachus (52)
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Hurl fire and snow upon me, and if you will, strike me with your bolt, or sweep me to the cliffs or to the deep. For he who is worn out by battle with Desire and utterly overcome by Love, feels not even the blast of Zeus' fire.
{translated by N.Livingstone}
Nothing is sweeter than love, other blessings all come second: even honey I spit from my mouth. This is what Nossis says: but anyone whom Cypris has not kissed is a woman who does not know what roses Love's flowers are.
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Poseidippus (V)
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Poseidippus (II)
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Leonidas →
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Wine and treacherous toasts and the sweet love of Nicagoras sent Aglaonicē to sleep ; and here she has dedicated to Cypris these spoils of her maiden love still all dripping with scent, her sandals and the soft band that held her bosom, witnesses to her sleep and his violence then.
The saffron robe of Alexō, and her dark green ivy crown, still smelling of myrrh, with her snood she dedicates to sweet Priapus with the effeminate melting eyes, in memory of his holy night-festival.
Leontis lay awake till the lovely star of morn, taking her delight with golden Sthenius, and ever since that vigil it hangs here in the shrine of Cypris, the lyre the Muses helped her then to play.
Meleager →
Nico's love-charm, that can compel a man to come from overseas and boys from their rooms, carved of transparent amethyst, set in gold and hung upon a soft thread of purple wool, she, the witch of Larissa presents to you Cypris, to possess and treasure.
Leonidas →
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Poseidippus (III)
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Poseidippus (IV)
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