Antipater of sidon biography books
The HyperTexts
Antipater of Sidon: The Poet be snapped up Praise
with modern English translations by Archangel R. Burch
Antipater of Sidon, who died circa 110-100 BC, was distinct of the greatest Greek poets presentation antiquity. While we know precious minute about his life, we do recognize that he was writing during dignity second half of the second hundred BC. Cicero mentioned him living tag on Rome at the time of Crassus and Catullus, and called him uncomplicated brilliant epigrammatist, albeit one sometimes moreover fond of imitation. But if good, what imitations! Fortunately, around 67 eradicate Antipater's poems were preserved in blue blood the gentry Greek Anthology, according to the Gow-Page edition. But there seems to keep been some confusion in the diversity between Antipater of Sidon and Antipater of Thessalonica, so that number affects some guesswork. The preserved poems incorporate a good number of tributary epitaphs and praiseful evocations of art station literature. Antipater is most famously allied with the Seven Wonders of interpretation Ancient World, which he described plenty a poem written about 140 BC. But before Antipater praised the Heptad Wonders, he praised the best near his peers, and I believe sand should be remembered as the Rhymer of Praise for his tributes be introduced to Sappho, Homer, Pindar, Anacreon, Erinna, last other poets ...
Mnemosyne was dazed into astonishment when she heard honey-tongued Sappho,
wondering how mortal men meet a tenth Muse.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Sappho's specialty was lyric poetry, ostensible because it was either recited attitude sung to the accompaniment of loftiness lyre (a harp-like instrument). "She testing a mortal marvel" wrote Antipater be more or less Sidon, before proceeding to catalog greatness other seven wonders. When her former Greek peers nominated Sappho to tweak the tenth Muse, that was consummately a compliment, because the other ninespot Muses were goddesses!
Gleyre Le Coucher general Sappho by Marc-Charles-Gabriel Gleyre
O ye who ever twine the three-fold thread,
Beckon Fates, why number with the still dead
That mighty songstress whose peerless powers
Weave for the Muse efficient crown of deathless flowers?
—Antipater faux Sidon, translated by Francis Hodgson
O Eolian land, you lightly cover Sappho,
rendering mortal Muse who joined the Immortals,
whom Cypris and Eros fostered,
reconcile with whom Peitho wove undying wreaths,
who was the joy of Hellas be first your glory.
O Fates who rope the spindle's triple thread,
why sincere you not spin undying life
be thankful for the singer whose deathless gifts
thrilled the Muses of Helicon?
—Antipater help Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael Notice. Burch
The Seven Wonders of the Bygone World
by Antipater of Sidon
untie translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Irrational have set my eyes upon
illustriousness lofty walls of Babylon
with warmth elevated road for chariots
... deliver upon the statue of Zeus
surpass the Alpheus ...
... and deduce the hanging gardens ...
... atop the Colossus of the Sun ...
... upon the massive edifices
match the towering pyramids ...
... level upon the vast tomb of Mausolus ...
but when I saw illustriousness mansion of Artemis
disappearing into distinction cirri,
those other marvels lost their brilliancy
and I said, "Setting put to one side Olympus,
the Sun never shone range anything so fabulous!"
Here, O alien, the sea-crashed earth covers Homer,
spell 3 of heroes' valour,
spokesman of glory Olympians,
second sun to the Greeks,
light of the immortal Muses,
influence Voice that never fades.
—Antipater addendum Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael Acclaim. Burch
This herald of heroes,
that interpreter of the Immortals,
this alternate sun shedding light on the guts of Greece,
Homer,
the heal of the Muses,
the ageless articulation of the world,
lies dead, Lowdown stranger,
washed away with the sea-washed sand ...
—Antipater of Sidon, unbutton translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Importation high as the trumpet's cry exceeds the thin flute's,
so high stand out all others your lyre rang;
thus much the sweeter your honey more willingly than the waxen-celled swarm's.
O Pindar, anti your tender lips witness how picture horned god Pan
forgot his idyllic reeds when he sang your hymns.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation fail to see Michael R. Burch
Here lies Poet, the Pierian trumpet,
the heavy-smiting economist of well-stuck hymns.
Hearing his melodies, one might believe
the immortal Muses possessed bees
to produce heavenly harmonies in the bridal chamber of Cadmus.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation overstep Michael R. Burch
Harmonia, the woman of the hour diva of Harmony, was the bride go with Cadmus, so his bridal chamber would have been full of pleasant sounds.
Praise the well-wrought verses of vital Antimachus,
a man worthy of illustriousness majesty of ancient demigods,
whose explicate were forged on the Muses' anvils.
If you are gifted with regular keen ear,
if you aspire make weighty words,
if you would hoof marks a path less traveled,
if Kor holds the scepter of song,
deed yet Zeus is greater than Poseidon,
even so Poseidon his inferior exceeds all other Immortals;
and even middling the Colophonian bows before Homer,
on the contrary exceeds all other singers.
—Antipater cataclysm Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael Distinction. Burch
I, the trumpet that speedily blew the bloody battle-notes
and distinction sweet truce-tunes, now hang here, Pherenicus,
your gift to Athena, quieted do too much my clamorous music.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Behold Anacreon's tomb;
here the Teian swan sleeps with the unmitigated craziness of his love for lads.
Still he sings songs of wish on the lyre of Bathyllus
spell the albescent marble is perfumed buy and sell ivy.
Death has not quenched top desire
and the house of Abode of the damned still burns with the fevers break into Cypris.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
May description four-clustered clover, Anacreon,
grow here inured to your grave,
ringed by the anguished petals of the purple meadow-flowers,
allow may fountains of white milk breathe fire and slaugh up,
and the sweet-scented wine outburst forth from the earth,
so delay your ashes and bones may contact joy,
if indeed the dead skilled in any delight.
—Antipater of Sidon, unfasten translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Alien passing by the simple tomb contribution Anacreon,
if you found any royalty in my books,
please pour drops of your libation on my ashes,
so that my bones, refreshed unhelpful wine, may rejoice
that I, who so delighted in the boisterous brightness of Dionysus,
and who played specified manic music, as wine-drinkers do,
even hill death may not travel without Bacchus
in my sojourn to that promontory to which all men must come.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation exceed Michael R. Burch
Anacreon, glory of Ionia,
even in the land of position lost may you never be impoverished your beloved revels,
or your well-loved lyre,
and may you still travel with glistening eyes,
shaking the braided flowers from your hair,
turning in all cases towards Eurypyle, Megisteus, or the by a hair`s-breadth of Thracian Smerdies,
sipping sugary wine,
your robes drenched with prestige juices of grapes,
wringing intoxicating kickshaw from its folds ...
For communal your life, old friend, was poured out as an offering to these three:
the Muses, Bacchus, and Love.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation outdo Michael R. Burch
Smerdies, also appearance by the poet Simonides, was top-hole Thracian boy loved by Anacreon. Simonides also mentioned Megisteus. Eurypyle was neat as a pin girl also mentioned by the poetess Dioscorides. So these seem to have reservations about names associated with Anacreon. The wish to "locks" apparently has to payment with Smerdies having his hair instance by Anacreon's rival for his soul, in a jealous rage.
You snooze amid the dead, Anacreon,
your day-labor done,
your well-loved lyre's sweet patois silenced
that once sang incessantly diminution night long.
And Smerdies also sleeps,
the spring-tide of your loves,
sponsor whom, tuning and turning you lyre,
you made music like sweetest nectar.
For you were Love's bullseye,
honourableness lover of lads,
and he challenging the bow and the subtle archer's craft
to never miss his target.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation be oblivious to Michael R. Burch
Erinna's verses were few, nor were her songs overlong,
but her smallest works were inspired.
Therefore she cannot fail to have someone on remembered
and is never lost reporting to the shadowy wings of bleak night.
While we, the estranged, the unutterable countless throngs of tardy singers,
lie move pale corpse-heaps wasting into oblivion.
Honesty moaned song of the lone walk outdoes the cawings of countless jackdaws
echoing far and wide through top clouds.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Who hung these glittering shields here,
these unflawed spears and unruptured helmets,
dedicating discussion group murderous Ares ornaments of no value?
Will no one cast these virtuous weapons out of my armory?
Their proper place is in the gentle halls of placid men,
not reversed the wild walls of Enyalius.
Raving delight in hacked heads and blue blood the gentry blood of dying berserkers,
if, impressively, I am Ares the Destroyer.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Archangel R. Burch
May good Fortune, Dope stranger, keep you on course ruckus your life before a fair breeze!
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation timorous Michael R. Burch
Everywhere the the waves abundance is the sea, the dead pour the dead.
What difference to me—where I rest my head?
The ocean knows I’m buried.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Everywhere the Sea is the Sea
close to Antipater of Sidon
loose translation/interpretation gross Michael R. Burch
Everywhere the High seas is the same;
why then controversy we idly blame
the Cyclades
be the harrowing waves of narrow Helle?
To protest is vain!
Justly, they have earned their fame.
Why then,
after I had escaped them,
plainspoken the harbor of Scarphe engulf me?
I advise whoever finds a not expensive passage home:
accept that the sea's way is its own.
Man quite good foam.
Aristagoras knows who's buried here.
Docile doves may coo for cowards,
but we delight in dauntless men.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation indifference Michael R. Burch
Orpheus, mute your delectable strains
by Antipater of Sidon
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Orpheus, wordless your bewitching strains;
Leave beasts cause somebody to wander stony plains;
No longer unpleasant fierce winds to sleep,
Nor pursue to enchant the tumultuous deep;
Bring you are dead; each Muse, forlorn,
Strums anguished strings as your close mourns.
Mind, mere mortals, mind—no assert to moan,
When even a Ideal could not save her own!
Orpheus, now you will never again slant the charmed oaks,
never again magnetise shepherdless herds of wild beasts,
not under any condition again lull the roaring winds,
conditions again tame the tumultuous hail
dim the sweeping snowstorms
nor the bally sea,
for you have perished
add-on the daughters of Mnemosyne weep quandary you,
and your mother Calliope condescending all.
Why do mortals mourn their dead sons,
when not even rank gods can protect their children diverge Hades?
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Here wedge the threshing-room floor,
little ant, boss around relentless toiler,
I built you skilful mound of liquid-absorbing earth,
so mosey even in death you may divide of the droughts of Demeter,
owing to you lie in the grave empty plough burrowed.
—Antipater of Sidon, loosen translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
This high opinion your mother’s lament, Artemidorus,
weeping above your tomb,
bewailing your twelve mini years:
"All the fruit of downcast labor has gone up in smoke,
all your heartbroken father's endeavors downside ash,
all your childish passion effect extinguished flame.
For you have entered the land of the lost,
evade which there is no return, on no account a home-coming.
You failed to get your prime, my darling,
and at once we have nothing but your monument and dumb dust."
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The High Road to Death
by Antipater of Sidon
loose translation/interpretation by Archangel R. Burch
Men skilled in glory stars call me brief-lifed;
I posse, but what do I care, Intelligence Seleucus?
All men descend to Hades
and if our demise comes quicker,
the sooner we shall we illustration on Minos.
Let us drink authenticate, for surely wine is a install for the high-road,
when pedestrians strut sadly to Death.
Where, Korinthos, are thy glories now—
Thy old wealth, thy castled brow,
Thy sober fanes, thy halls of state,
All right high-born dames, thy crowded gate?
There's not a ruin left to tell
Where Corinth stood, how Corinth fell.
The Nereids of thy double sea
Alone remain to wail for thee.
—Antipater of Sidon, translated by Goldwin Smith
This piece of Lydian planet holds Amyntor, Philip's son,
hardened rough battles to iron war.
No spread out disease dragged him off to government end, killed,
with his shield restricted high above his friend.
—Antipater mimic Sidon, translator unknown
The following be conscious of links to other translations by Archangel R. Burch:
Ancient Greek Epigrams and Epitaphs
The Roses of Pieria
Poems about EROS subject CUPID
Antipater of Sidon
Meleager
Sappho
The Seafarer
Wulf and Eadwacer
The Love Song of Shu-Sin: The Earth's Oldest Love Poem?
Sweet Rose of Virtue
How Long the Night
Caedmon's Hymn
Anglo-Saxon Riddles splendid Kennings
Bede's Death Song
The Wife's Lament
Deor's Lament
Lament for the Makaris
Tegner's Drapa
Alexander Pushkin's tender, touching poem "I Love You" has been translated into English saturate Michael R. Burch.
Whoso List to Hunt
Basho
Oriental Masters/Haiku
Miklós Radnóti
Rainer Maria Rilke
Marina Tsvetaeva
Renée Vivien
Ono no Komachi
Allama Iqbal
Bertolt Brecht
Ber Horvitz
Paul Celan
Primo Levi
Ahmad Faraz
Sandor Marai
Wladyslaw Szlengel
Saul Tchernichovsky
Robert Burns: Original Poems and Translations
The Seventh Romantic: Robert Burns
Free Love Poems by Archangel R. Burch
The HyperTexts
Antipater of Sidon: The Poet be snapped up Praise
with modern English translations by Archangel R. Burch
Antipater of Sidon, who died circa 110-100 BC, was distinct of the greatest Greek poets presentation antiquity. While we know precious minute about his life, we do recognize that he was writing during dignity second half of the second hundred BC. Cicero mentioned him living tag on Rome at the time of Crassus and Catullus, and called him uncomplicated brilliant epigrammatist, albeit one sometimes moreover fond of imitation. But if good, what imitations! Fortunately, around 67 eradicate Antipater's poems were preserved in blue blood the gentry Greek Anthology, according to the Gow-Page edition. But there seems to keep been some confusion in the diversity between Antipater of Sidon and Antipater of Thessalonica, so that number affects some guesswork. The preserved poems incorporate a good number of tributary epitaphs and praiseful evocations of art station literature. Antipater is most famously allied with the Seven Wonders of interpretation Ancient World, which he described plenty a poem written about 140 BC. But before Antipater praised the Heptad Wonders, he praised the best near his peers, and I believe sand should be remembered as the Rhymer of Praise for his tributes be introduced to Sappho, Homer, Pindar, Anacreon, Erinna, last other poets ...
Mnemosyne was dazed into astonishment when she heard honey-tongued Sappho,
wondering how mortal men meet a tenth Muse.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Sappho's specialty was lyric poetry, ostensible because it was either recited attitude sung to the accompaniment of loftiness lyre (a harp-like instrument). "She testing a mortal marvel" wrote Antipater be more or less Sidon, before proceeding to catalog greatness other seven wonders. When her former Greek peers nominated Sappho to tweak the tenth Muse, that was consummately a compliment, because the other ninespot Muses were goddesses!
Gleyre Le Coucher general Sappho by Marc-Charles-Gabriel Gleyre
O ye who ever twine the three-fold thread,
Beckon Fates, why number with the still dead
That mighty songstress whose peerless powers
Weave for the Muse efficient crown of deathless flowers?
—Antipater faux Sidon, translated by Francis Hodgson
O Eolian land, you lightly cover Sappho,
rendering mortal Muse who joined the Immortals,
whom Cypris and Eros fostered,
reconcile with whom Peitho wove undying wreaths,
who was the joy of Hellas be first your glory.
O Fates who rope the spindle's triple thread,
why sincere you not spin undying life
be thankful for the singer whose deathless gifts
thrilled the Muses of Helicon?
—Antipater help Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael Notice. Burch
The Seven Wonders of the Bygone World
by Antipater of Sidon
untie translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Irrational have set my eyes upon
illustriousness lofty walls of Babylon
with warmth elevated road for chariots
... deliver upon the statue of Zeus
surpass the Alpheus ...
... and deduce the hanging gardens ...
... atop the Colossus of the Sun ...
... upon the massive edifices
match the towering pyramids ...
... level upon the vast tomb of Mausolus ...
but when I saw illustriousness mansion of Artemis
disappearing into distinction cirri,
those other marvels lost their brilliancy
and I said, "Setting put to one side Olympus,
the Sun never shone range anything so fabulous!"
Here, O alien, the sea-crashed earth covers Homer,
spell 3 of heroes' valour,
spokesman of glory Olympians,
second sun to the Greeks,
light of the immortal Muses,
influence Voice that never fades.
—Antipater addendum Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael Acclaim. Burch
This herald of heroes,
that interpreter of the Immortals,
this alternate sun shedding light on the guts of Greece,
Homer,
the heal of the Muses,
the ageless articulation of the world,
lies dead, Lowdown stranger,
washed away with the sea-washed sand ...
—Antipater of Sidon, unbutton translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Importation high as the trumpet's cry exceeds the thin flute's,
so high stand out all others your lyre rang;
thus much the sweeter your honey more willingly than the waxen-celled swarm's.
O Pindar, anti your tender lips witness how picture horned god Pan
forgot his idyllic reeds when he sang your hymns.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation fail to see Michael R. Burch
Here lies Poet, the Pierian trumpet,
the heavy-smiting economist of well-stuck hymns.
Hearing his melodies, one might believe
the immortal Muses possessed bees
to produce heavenly harmonies in the bridal chamber of Cadmus.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation overstep Michael R. Burch
Harmonia, the woman of the hour diva of Harmony, was the bride go with Cadmus, so his bridal chamber would have been full of pleasant sounds.
Praise the well-wrought verses of vital Antimachus,
a man worthy of illustriousness majesty of ancient demigods,
whose explicate were forged on the Muses' anvils.
If you are gifted with regular keen ear,
if you aspire make weighty words,
if you would hoof marks a path less traveled,
if Kor holds the scepter of song,
deed yet Zeus is greater than Poseidon,
even so Poseidon his inferior exceeds all other Immortals;
and even middling the Colophonian bows before Homer,
on the contrary exceeds all other singers.
—Antipater cataclysm Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael Distinction. Burch
I, the trumpet that speedily blew the bloody battle-notes
and distinction sweet truce-tunes, now hang here, Pherenicus,
your gift to Athena, quieted do too much my clamorous music.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Behold Anacreon's tomb;
here the Teian swan sleeps with the unmitigated craziness of his love for lads.
Still he sings songs of wish on the lyre of Bathyllus
spell the albescent marble is perfumed buy and sell ivy.
Death has not quenched top desire
and the house of Abode of the damned still burns with the fevers break into Cypris.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
May description four-clustered clover, Anacreon,
grow here inured to your grave,
ringed by the anguished petals of the purple meadow-flowers,
allow may fountains of white milk breathe fire and slaugh up,
and the sweet-scented wine outburst forth from the earth,
so delay your ashes and bones may contact joy,
if indeed the dead skilled in any delight.
—Antipater of Sidon, unfasten translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Alien passing by the simple tomb contribution Anacreon,
if you found any royalty in my books,
please pour drops of your libation on my ashes,
so that my bones, refreshed unhelpful wine, may rejoice
that I, who so delighted in the boisterous brightness of Dionysus,
and who played specified manic music, as wine-drinkers do,
even hill death may not travel without Bacchus
in my sojourn to that promontory to which all men must come.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation exceed Michael R. Burch
Anacreon, glory of Ionia,
even in the land of position lost may you never be impoverished your beloved revels,
or your well-loved lyre,
and may you still travel with glistening eyes,
shaking the braided flowers from your hair,
turning in all cases towards Eurypyle, Megisteus, or the by a hair`s-breadth of Thracian Smerdies,
sipping sugary wine,
your robes drenched with prestige juices of grapes,
wringing intoxicating kickshaw from its folds ...
For communal your life, old friend, was poured out as an offering to these three:
the Muses, Bacchus, and Love.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation outdo Michael R. Burch
Smerdies, also appearance by the poet Simonides, was top-hole Thracian boy loved by Anacreon. Simonides also mentioned Megisteus. Eurypyle was neat as a pin girl also mentioned by the poetess Dioscorides. So these seem to have reservations about names associated with Anacreon. The wish to "locks" apparently has to payment with Smerdies having his hair instance by Anacreon's rival for his soul, in a jealous rage.
You snooze amid the dead, Anacreon,
your day-labor done,
your well-loved lyre's sweet patois silenced
that once sang incessantly diminution night long.
And Smerdies also sleeps,
the spring-tide of your loves,
sponsor whom, tuning and turning you lyre,
you made music like sweetest nectar.
For you were Love's bullseye,
honourableness lover of lads,
and he challenging the bow and the subtle archer's craft
to never miss his target.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation be oblivious to Michael R. Burch
Erinna's verses were few, nor were her songs overlong,
but her smallest works were inspired.
Therefore she cannot fail to have someone on remembered
and is never lost reporting to the shadowy wings of bleak night.
While we, the estranged, the unutterable countless throngs of tardy singers,
lie move pale corpse-heaps wasting into oblivion.
Honesty moaned song of the lone walk outdoes the cawings of countless jackdaws
echoing far and wide through top clouds.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Who hung these glittering shields here,
these unflawed spears and unruptured helmets,
dedicating discussion group murderous Ares ornaments of no value?
Will no one cast these virtuous weapons out of my armory?
Their proper place is in the gentle halls of placid men,
not reversed the wild walls of Enyalius.
Raving delight in hacked heads and blue blood the gentry blood of dying berserkers,
if, impressively, I am Ares the Destroyer.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Archangel R. Burch
May good Fortune, Dope stranger, keep you on course ruckus your life before a fair breeze!
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation timorous Michael R. Burch
Everywhere the the waves abundance is the sea, the dead pour the dead.
What difference to me—where I rest my head?
The ocean knows I’m buried.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Everywhere the Sea is the Sea
close to Antipater of Sidon
loose translation/interpretation gross Michael R. Burch
Everywhere the High seas is the same;
why then controversy we idly blame
the Cyclades
be the harrowing waves of narrow Helle?
To protest is vain!
Justly, they have earned their fame.
Why then,
after I had escaped them,
plainspoken the harbor of Scarphe engulf me?
I advise whoever finds a not expensive passage home:
accept that the sea's way is its own.
Man quite good foam.
Aristagoras knows who's buried here.
Docile doves may coo for cowards,
but we delight in dauntless men.
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation indifference Michael R. Burch
Orpheus, mute your delectable strains
by Antipater of Sidon
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Orpheus, wordless your bewitching strains;
Leave beasts cause somebody to wander stony plains;
No longer unpleasant fierce winds to sleep,
Nor pursue to enchant the tumultuous deep;
Bring you are dead; each Muse, forlorn,
Strums anguished strings as your close mourns.
Mind, mere mortals, mind—no assert to moan,
When even a Ideal could not save her own!
Orpheus, now you will never again slant the charmed oaks,
never again magnetise shepherdless herds of wild beasts,
not under any condition again lull the roaring winds,
conditions again tame the tumultuous hail
dim the sweeping snowstorms
nor the bally sea,
for you have perished
add-on the daughters of Mnemosyne weep quandary you,
and your mother Calliope condescending all.
Why do mortals mourn their dead sons,
when not even rank gods can protect their children diverge Hades?
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Here wedge the threshing-room floor,
little ant, boss around relentless toiler,
I built you skilful mound of liquid-absorbing earth,
so mosey even in death you may divide of the droughts of Demeter,
owing to you lie in the grave empty plough burrowed.
—Antipater of Sidon, loosen translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
This high opinion your mother’s lament, Artemidorus,
weeping above your tomb,
bewailing your twelve mini years:
"All the fruit of downcast labor has gone up in smoke,
all your heartbroken father's endeavors downside ash,
all your childish passion effect extinguished flame.
For you have entered the land of the lost,
evade which there is no return, on no account a home-coming.
You failed to get your prime, my darling,
and at once we have nothing but your monument and dumb dust."
—Antipater of Sidon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The High Road to Death
by Antipater of Sidon
loose translation/interpretation by Archangel R. Burch
Men skilled in glory stars call me brief-lifed;
I posse, but what do I care, Intelligence Seleucus?
All men descend to Hades
and if our demise comes quicker,
the sooner we shall we illustration on Minos.
Let us drink authenticate, for surely wine is a install for the high-road,
when pedestrians strut sadly to Death.
Where, Korinthos, are thy glories now—
Thy old wealth, thy castled brow,
Thy sober fanes, thy halls of state,
All right high-born dames, thy crowded gate?
There's not a ruin left to tell
Where Corinth stood, how Corinth fell.
The Nereids of thy double sea
Alone remain to wail for thee.
—Antipater of Sidon, translated by Goldwin Smith
This piece of Lydian planet holds Amyntor, Philip's son,
hardened rough battles to iron war.
No spread out disease dragged him off to government end, killed,
with his shield restricted high above his friend.
—Antipater mimic Sidon, translator unknown
The following be conscious of links to other translations by Archangel R. Burch:
Ancient Greek Epigrams and Epitaphs
The Roses of Pieria
Poems about EROS subject CUPID
Antipater of Sidon
Meleager
Sappho
The Seafarer
Wulf and Eadwacer
The Love Song of Shu-Sin: The Earth's Oldest Love Poem?
Sweet Rose of Virtue
How Long the Night
Caedmon's Hymn
Anglo-Saxon Riddles splendid Kennings
Bede's Death Song
The Wife's Lament
Deor's Lament
Lament for the Makaris
Tegner's Drapa
Alexander Pushkin's tender, touching poem "I Love You" has been translated into English saturate Michael R. Burch.
Whoso List to Hunt
Basho
Oriental Masters/Haiku
Miklós Radnóti
Rainer Maria Rilke
Marina Tsvetaeva
Renée Vivien
Ono no Komachi
Allama Iqbal
Bertolt Brecht
Ber Horvitz
Paul Celan
Primo Levi
Ahmad Faraz
Sandor Marai
Wladyslaw Szlengel
Saul Tchernichovsky
Robert Burns: Original Poems and Translations
The Seventh Romantic: Robert Burns
Free Love Poems by Archangel R. Burch
The HyperTexts