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Puerilities

Page 4

by Hine, Daryl;


  And live until your hair turns white with time.

  XCIV MELEAGER

  Diodorus is a living treasure,

  Heraclitus always seems on view,

  Dion’s conversation gives much pleasure,

  So does Uliades’ backside, too!

  Stroke the delicate-complexioned boy,

  Ogle him you find the prettiest;

  Chat up the chatterbox, and then enjoy

  The favours of the favoured . . . and all the rest.

  You know I do not have a jealous nature,

  Philocles, but if you presume to cast

  Lecherous glances on Myiscus’ ass, your

  Glimpse of beauty might well be your last.

  XCV MELEAGER

  Philocles, if Desire, sweet Blandishment,

  And the Graces, beauty’s botanists, consent,

  Embracing Diodorus may you see

  Sweet Dorotheus singing vis-à-vis,

  While holding Callicrates on your knee;

  May Dion’s little fingers hotly grip

  Your horny prick, which Uliades’ strip;

  May you share Philo’s kiss and Thero’s talk,

  And feel Eudemus up beneath his smock.

  If, blessèd man, god granted you such joys,

  You’d have arranged a smorgasbord of boys.

  XCVI ANONYMOUS

  There’s truth in the old adage, that the gods

  Do not give everybody the same odds.

  Your form is flawless, modesty shines in

  Your eyes, a charming bloom is on your skin,

  Surpassing other youths. But for your feet,

  All this god-given grace would be complete.

  But, Pyrrhus, slip your foot into this shoe—

  It will embellish and astonish you.

  XCVII ANTIPATER

  Eupalamas—or Lilyfoot—above

  His waistline blushes roseate as Love;

  However, dawn does not extend from his

  Waist down. How stingy Mother Nature is!

  Were his bottom and his top the same,

  He’d put Achilles’ bronze physique to shame.

  XCVIII POSIDIPPUS

  Binding the poet’s soul with briars, Desire

  Tries to relax it over a slow fire,

  But the hard-working bookworm still makes light

  Of everything but this malicious sprite.

  XCIX ANONYMOUS

  I’m caught by Love. I never dreamt I’d learn

  With ardour for another male to burn.

  I’m caught, yet sinful passion played no part:

  A pure and modest glance enflamed my heart.

  My labour for the Muses—all in vain!

  My mind, on fire, is fraught with dulcet pain.

  C ANONYMOUS

  To what strange port of longings, pitiless

  Venus, towards love’s pain, well though you know it,

  You’ve brought me, in unbearable distress

  To protest, “None but Venus hurt this poet”!

  CI MELEAGER

  Transfixing with a look my unscathed heart,

  Myiscus cried, “I’ve caught the brash upstart!

  Behold how underfoot I trample now

  The pride of regal wisdom on his brow!”

  I gasped, “Dear boy, why should you feel surprise?

  Love dragged great Zeus himself down from the skies.”

  CII CALLIMACHUS

  After each mountain hare the hunstman goes,

  Tracking each doe’s footprints through frosts and snows,

  But any stricken creature he descries

  He does not bag. My love, perverse likewise,

  Understands how to chase the fleet and shy

  Game, but what’s obvious it passes by.

  CIII ANONYMOUS

  I give back love for love and hate for hate,

  Completely ignorant of neither state.

  CIV ANONYMOUS

  I want my love exclusive. If it strays,

  Venus, I hate a love with common ways.

  CV ASCLEPIADES

  A little Love, I left my mother’s home;

  Easily caught, from Damis’ I don’t roam,

  Loving, beloved, (rivals I have none),

  Commingling not with many but with one.

  CVI MELEAGER

  Myiscus’ looks are all my avid eyes

  Know how to dote on, sightless otherwise.

  He’s all my fantasy. Must every glance

  Flatter the soul? Must eyes be psychophants?

  CVII ANONYMOUS

  If comely Dionysius picks me,

  May The Graces keep him ever fair!

  But should he pass me over heartlessly,

  Good riddance to bad rubbish, I declare.

  CVIII DIONYSIUS

  Acrastus, if you care for me, you are

  Like unmixed Chian wine, but sweeter still.

  If you choose someone else, I hope you will

  Turn musty as a jar of vinegar.

  CIX MELEAGER

  Is tender Diodorus, who turned on

  Our youth, transfixed by bittersweet desire,

  Enflamed by lickerish Timarion?

  A novel marvel: fighting fire with fire.

  CX MELEAGER

  His eyes flash beauty sweet enough to scorch:

  Does Love equip young boys with thunderbolts?

  Bringing a sexy gleam to mortal dolts,

  Myiscus, shine on earth, my darling torch.

  CXI ANONYMOUS

  While Love has wings, you’re swift of foot. You’re cute

  As well. A pity that you cannot shoot!

  CXII ANONYMOUS

  Be quiet, lads! Archesilaus to bring

  Love here, bound him with Venus’ crimson string.

  CXIII MELEAGER

  Timarion you snared, by fluttering

  Your eyelids, Love, and caught him on the wing.

  CXIV MELEAGER

  Hail, morning star, fair messenger of dawn!

  As evening star, bring back the sweet cheat gone.

  CXV ANONYMOUS

  Having imbibed pure madness, I am made

  Tipsy by words, by drunken folly armed.

  So what if it thunders on my serenade?

  Love’s body armour will keep me unharmed.

  CXVI ANONYMOUS

  I’ll serenade him absolutely stewed:

  “Accept, dear boy, this wreath with tears bedewed.”

  Go all that way for nothing? Though the night

  Is dark, Themison is my guiding light.

  CXVII MELEAGER

  That’s settled. Light the lights, I’m on my way.—

  Drink makes you bold.—Why worry? I’ll go pay

  Him court.—Your wit’s astray.—Does love allow

  Reason? Lights, quick!—Where is your logic now?

  Forget the quest for wisdom! All I know,

  Is, Love brought Zeus’ lofty spirit low.

  CXVIII CALLIMACHUS

  Scold me, Archinus, for my headstrong wooing,

  Or call your magnetism my undoing.

  Strong drink moved me, and love, which drew my soul,

  While drinking robbed me of all self-control.

  I kissed your door but did not shout my name

  Or yours. If that’s a crime, I am to blame.

  CXIX MELEAGER

  I’ll tolerate your rudeness, Bacchus. Start

  The party, god that rules the human heart.

  Born from the fire, you love love’s flame; enchain

  Me as your faithful follower again.

  Perfidiously you tell me to conceal

  Your mysteries, yet mine you would reveal.

  CXX POSIDIPPUS

  I’ll take up arms and never will say die,

  Mere mortal though I am. Love, stay your hand!

  While you may capture me when drunk, when I

  Am sober, I have reason at command.

  CXXI RHIANUS

  Traipsing some narow p
athway did the Graces,

  Cleonicus, meet you with shining faces,

  And take you in their rosy-armed embrace

  Making of you an honorary Grace?

  I’ll keep my distance, thank you: tinder near

  A fire would be in jeopardy, my dear.

  CXXII MELEAGER

  Staring Aristagoras in the face,

  The Graces clasped him in a fond embrace,

  His beauty blazes now, his talk is sweet,

  When mute his smiling eyes are indiscreet.

  I wish he’d go away! But what’s the use?

  He throws his thunderbolts as far as Zeus.

  CXXIII ANONYMOUS

  I crowned young Menecharmus, when he gained

  The title, with the wreath of victory,

  And kissed him, too, though he was all blood-stained:

  That blood seemed sweeter than perfume to me!

  CXXIV ARTEMON?

  Seeing young Echedemus sneak a peek

  Outdoors, I slyly kissed the little sneak.

  Then, dressed like Cupid, in a dream he shocks

  Me with the present of two fighting cocks.

  Now smiling, now unfriendly. Did I seize

  Fire or a thistle or a swarm of bees?

  CXXV MELEAGER

  Love brought between my sheets a laughing lad

  One night. Eighteen years old, he was half-clad,

  Like a young boy: what a sweet dream! I pressed

  Smooth flesh in desperation to my breast.

  Warmed by that lustful memory, I keep

  Before my eyes phantasmagoric sleep.

  When will my lovesick soul in dreams refrain

  From chafing beauty’s images in vain?

  CXXVI MELEAGER

  Now I have just begun to feel the pain:

  Hot, errant Love has scratched my heart again.

  Smirking he said, “Poor lover, you will bear

  The sentimental brand of sweet despair.”

  Nor can I, when amongst the boyish band

  I spot young Diophantes, stir or stand.

  CXXVII MELEAGER

  I saw Alexis strolling down the road

  One noon, when Summer’s locks were cropped. He glowed

  So twin beams dazzled me, the sexy ones

  His boyish eyes emitted, and the sun’s;

  But while the solar rays were quenched by night,

  In dreams the form of beauty still burnt bright.

  Sleep, kind to others, proved to me unkind,

  Etching this incandescence in my mind.

  CXXVIII MELEAGER

  No longer shall the hillsides shrill with an

  Air to Daphnis flattering randy Pan;

  Nor can the lyre, Apollo’s mouthpiece, praise

  Hyacinth garlanded with virgin bays.

  Daphnis, the mountain nymphs’ delight, is gone,

  And Hyacinth, Apollo’s paragon;

  So now let Dion wield desire’s baton.

  CXXIX ARATUS

  The stones of Argos praise their native son,

  Fair Philocles, whose far-famed name is one

  Scrawled in the baths of Amphiaraus, too.

  His namesake won’t be worsted by a few

  Inscriptions! No graffitti spread his fame,

  But those who’ve seen him in the flesh proclaim

  He outstrips anyone of the same name.

  CXXX ANONYMOUS

  Again and again I’ve said and still repeat,

  “Pretty Dositheus’ eyes are sweet.”

  These words, inscribed upon no oak or pine

  Or wall, Love branded on this heart of mine.

  Believe no one who tells you otherwise;

  Only I know the truth, and I’ll swear he lies.

  CXXXI POSIDIPPUS

  Lady who frequents Miletus, Cyprus and Cythera

  And the beautiful ground of horsey Syria,

  Kindly visit Callistion, the sort of whore

  Who never turned a frequent visitor from her door.

  CXXXII MELEAGER

  Did I not warn my soul, “You will get caught,

  Flitting too often to that risky spot?”

  Too late; the trap is sprung. In vain you gasp

  Now Love has your pin-feathers in his grasp

  And spits you on the fire, and as you sink,

  Bastes you with scent, and gives you tears to drink.

  CXXXII A MELEAGER

  Belaboured soul, now almost burnt to death,

  And now reviving as you catch your breath,

  Why weep? You took hard-hearted Love to nurse,

  Never guessing he would prove a curse?

  The wage of your good nursing now you know,

  Receiving for it fire and frigid snow.

  You asked for it, and got your just deserts,

  Once burnt, apprised how Love’s hot honey hurts.

  CXXXIII MELEAGER

  I thirsted in the summertime to kiss

  A silken lad, and, satisfied, said this:

  “Such is the kiss that Zeus like nectar sips

  From Ganymede’s intoxicating lips.

  Kissing Antiochus, fair for his age,

  My soul imbibed a honeyed beverage.”

  CXXXIV CALLIMACHUS

  Our quest conceals a wound we never guessed:

  Look how he heaves a sigh, as if distressed,

  With his third drink. The roses he was crowned

  With all have shed their petals on the ground.

  There’s something troubling him, and my belief

  Is sound: it takes a thief to catch a thief.

  CXXXV ASCLEPIADES

  One test of love is wine. When he denied

  His love, a glass proved Nicagoras lied:

  He looked downcast, and bowed his head, and cried,

  And round his brow the garland came untied.

  CXXXVI ANONYMOUS

  Twittering birds, why vex me with your gabble

  While I am basking in a fleshy boy’s

  Charms. Go to sleep, please, nightingales, don’t babble

  Among the leaves like women. Stop that noise!

  CXXXVII MELEAGER

  To lovers, chanticleer, you bring bad news

  At dawn. Now when the lovelong night’s so brief

  Why are you making this ear-splitting noise,

  Crowing above my bed to mock my grief

  Tonight? What gratitude for your upbringing!

  This dawn will hear the last of your harsh singing.

  CXXXVIII MNASALCAS

  In fear of Fall, why, grapevine, do you keep

  Your leaves till the Pleiades sink in the West,

  With Antileon dreamily asleep

  Beneath you? Gratify the prettiest.

  CXXXIX CALLIMACHUS

  By Pan and Dionysus! there is flame

  Concealed beneath these ashes all the same.

  I’ve lost my nerve; don’t hug me! Often small

  Still streams unnoticed undermine a wall;

  I fear the dumb insinuations of

  Menexenus are prodding me to love.

  CXL ANONYMOUS

  One look at Archestratus and I said,

  “His looks are not exceptional.” To teach me,

  Nemesis took and threw me on a bed

  Of coals, where Zeus’s thunderbolts could reach me.

  Which, boy or goddess, should I satisfy?

  The boy is better. Nemesis, goodbye!

  CXLI MELEAGER

  You uttered what no deity would dare,

  Audacious critic: “Thero isn’t fair.”

  Not fair to you, perhaps! You’ve no excuse,

  Uncowed by all the thunderbolts of Zeus.

  Grave Nemesis now ridicules your chatter

  To reprimand bad manners and no matter.

  CXLII RHIANUS

  Beneath a plane tree Dexionicus,

  Catching a blackbird, held it by the wing;

  The sacred bird complained and made a fuss.
/>   Dear Love, you blooming Graces, let me sing

  As thrush or blackbird, in that youngster’s grasp

  And pour forth mawkish tears at my last gasp.

  CXLIII ANONYMOUS

  “Hermes, one struck by boy-love tried to pluck

  The sharp barb out.”

  “I had no better luck.”

  “Apollophanes wastes me with desire.”

  “You first, we’ve both been thrown on the same fire.”

  CXLIV MELEAGER

  Thief of hearts, why jettison your cruel

  Arrows and bow and, weeping, fold your wings?

  Invincible Myiscus’ looks must fuel

  Repentance for your previous philanderings.

  CXLV ANONYMOUS

  Unhappy paederasts, cease your inane

  Exertions! All our hopes are mad. As vain

  As dredging up sea-water on dry land

  Or numbering the grains of desert sand

  Is a yen for boys, whose indiscreet

 

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