Palladas Poems

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,
...

Waking we burst, at each return of morn,
From death's dull fetters and again are born.
No longer ours the moments that have passed;
...

Pity, says the Theban bard,
From my wishes I discard;
Envy, let me rather be,
...

s I approach the end of my life,
Care 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.
...

Breathing the thin breath through our nostrils, we
Live, and a little space the sunlight see-
Even all that live- each being an instrument
To which the generous air its life has lent.
If with the hand one quench our draught of breath,
He sends the stark soul shuddering down to death.
We that are nothing on our pride are fed,
Seeing, but for a little air, we are as dead.
...

Better to be judged by Hegemon,
The slayer of robbers,
Than to fall into the hands
Of the surgeon Gennadius.
For he executes murderers in just hatred,
But Gennadius takes a fee
For sending you down to Hades.
...

Someone gave me
A long-suffering donkey
That moves backwards
As much as forward
Their journey's haven
To those who ride on it;

A donkey,
The son of slowness,
A labour,
A delay,
A dream,
But first instead of last
For those who are retiring.
...

Drink and be merry. What the morrow brings
No mortal knoweth: wherefore toil or run?
Spend while thou mayst, eat, fix on present things
Thy hopes and wishes: life and death are one.
One moment grasp life's goods; to thee they fall:
Dead, thou hast nothing, and another all.
...

Every woman is a source of annoyance,
But she has two good seasons,
The one in her bridal chamber
And the other when she is dead.
...

Pity, says the Theban bard,
From my wishes I discard;
Envy, let me rather be,
Rather far, a theme for thee.
Pity to distress is shown;
Envy to the great alone.
So the Theban. But to shine
Less conspicuous be mine.
I prefer the golden mean,
Pomp and penury between.
For alarm and peril wait
Ever on the loftiest state;
And the lowest to the end
Obloquy and scorn attend.
...