Xenophanes Elegy Fragment 1 Ath. 11462c
Translated by Steven Willett
Note: Xenophanes of Colophon c. 570~478BC was a philosopher and poet critical of polytheism.
For now the floor is spotless and spotless all our hands
and drinking cups; one crowns us with plaited wreathes,
another hands round a saucer of sweet-smelling perfume;
the mixing-bowl stands full of festivity;
still more wine is waiting, and says it won’t desert us,
mellow in earthen jars, redolent of flowers;
frankincense throws out, amid all this, its pure, holy aroma
and the water’s sweet and unsullied;
beside us golden loaves have been set and stately tables
sagging beneath heaped cheese and thick honey;
a central altar has vanished under thickening flowers,
and music and revelry hold sway about the room.
Men of good cheer should first should hymn the god
with auspicious tales and immaculate words,
after pouring libations and praying for the ability
to achieve just behavior—for this is more obvious,
not hubris—. Drink as much as you can sustain going
home without an attendant unless you’re very old;
and praise that man after drinking shows noble thoughts,
so that there’s memory of and straining for virtue;
it's worthless to marshal the wars of Titans or Giants
and Centaurs, affectations of our predecessors,
or furious factions—with them nothing useful exists—.
It is good to always hold regard for the gods.
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Your opinion on this document Col.
mark
I think someone had too much time on his hands.
21st century version: Party on, Wayne.
Just the title alone sent me back to my little book of Latin poetry. I remembered a fragment by Catullus introduced in my little book as “An invitation to (bring) a good dinner Catullus XIII, 1-8.” It still has my scribbled translation between the lines.
Cenabis bene, mi Fabulle, apud me
paucis si tibi di favent, diebus –
si tecum attuleris bonam atque magnam
cenum non sine candida puella
et vino et sale et omnibus cachinnis.
Haec si, inquam attuleris, venuste noster,
cenabus bene: nam tui Catulli
plenus sacculis est aranearum.
I quess you can roughly translate it as “Come over to my place for a party. Don’t forget the wine, food, hot chick and entertainment. Should be great.”
My little book also has a response by Catullus to a letter from Caesar quite different from his normal light hearted fare.
Nil minium studeo, Caesar, tibi velle placere,
hec scire utrum sis albus an ater homo.
Pretty ballsy for a young poet. He tells Caesar that he doesn’t give a rat’s ass who he is or what he thinks.
Thanks for these passages of translated poetry, Steven Willet. Translating poetry from a different language, different culture and different time into something that reads well to a modern reader requires great skill and literary ability. It’s far beyond anything I could muster. I’m more comfortable with Robert Service or perhaps Robert Frost if I’m feeling more contemplative.
I am a gambling man
going down to new orleans
thats the plan
follow my dreams.
An old man who rolls the dice
on congo square
said you have to pay the price
to go from here to there.
Took out my spinning dollar
it had two tales
one man wore a white collar
the other had lived in jails.
I flipped the coin into the air
saw it fall to the ground
it landed on its edge square
with a ringing sound.
Folliw your destiny
your path lies elsewhere
the old man said carefully
and pointed to a tree there.
I walked on over
a heavy weight on my soul
Time became slower
In the distance a bell began to toll
I stood before a weeping willow
I heard voices singing out loud
With anger and sorrow
Still defiant and proud
Sometimes when you hear the beat of a drum
from far away
or an old guitar strum
you might hear the blues play.
the final version.
hear the blues play
I am a gambling man
going down to new orleans
thats the plan
follow my dreams.
There’s old woman who rolls the dice
on congo square
she said you have to pay the price
to go from here to there.
Took out my spinning dollar
it had two tales
one man wore a white collar
the other had lived in jails.
I flipped the coin into the air
saw it fall to the ground
it landed on its edge square
with a ringing sound.
Follow your destiny
let the coin roll
said the old woman softly
fill your empty bowl
I walked on over
a heavy weight on my soul
Time became slower
In the distance a bell began to toll
I stood before a weeping willow
I heard voices singing out loud
With anger and sorrow
Still defiant and proud
Sometimes when you hear the beat of a drum
from far away
or an old guitar strum
you might hear the blues play.