Ortho's Epitaph Poem by Theocritus

Ortho's Epitaph



Friend, Ortho of Syracuse gives thee this charge:
Never venture out, drunk, on a wild winter's night.
I did so and died. My possessions were large;
Yet the turf that I'm clad with is strange to me quite.

translated by C. S. Calverley

Tuesday, March 1, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: winter
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Theocritus

Theocritus

Syracuse, Italy
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