ALCMAN
Fragment 26 - Desire
Maidens with voices like honey for sweetness, that breathe desire,
See I faint; for no sea-bird I, as I would be, nor tire
Over the foam-flowers flying with halcyons ever on wing,
Keeping a careless heart, a sea-blue bird of the Spring.
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shoulder also and ravine; the creeping-things that come from the dark earth, the beasts whose lying is upon the hillside, the generation of the bees, the monsters in the depths of the purple brine,
all lie asleep, and with them the tribes of the winging birds.
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Over hoogten en bergtoppen en lover Hangt donker thans de nacht. Nu slapen reptielen En alwat de vruchtbare aarde voedt : Het wild in de bergen, Het bijenvolk, En de monsters in de diepte van de luidbruisende zee. En ook de wijdgevlerkte vogels slapen
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Partheneion
And I sing
the radiance of Agido, seeing
her as the sun, which for us
is shown by Agido—she is the eyewitness
to shine with its sunlight.
But for me to praise her
or to blame her is not allowed by the glorious leader of the chorus
No, she does not allow me.
For that one appears radiantly to be outstanding,
as when someone sets among grazing cattle a horse,
well-built, a prize-winner, with thundering hooves,
something from out of those dreams that happen underneath a rock.
Don't you see? One is a racehorse
from Paphlagonia. But the mane
of the other one, my kinswoman
Hagesikhora, blossoms on her head
like imperishable gold.
And the silver look of her face—
what can I tell you openly? She is Hagesikhora.
But whoever is second to Agido in beauty,
let her be a Scythian horse running against a Lydian one.
…..
Hymn to Artemis …..
…..
And there is the vengeance of the gods.
He is a happy man who can weave his days,
No trouble upon the loom.
And I, I sing of Agido,
Of her light. She is like the sun
To which she makes our prayers,
The witness of its radiance.
Yet I can neither praise her nor blame her
Till I have sung of another,
Sung of our choirmaster,
Who stands among us as in a pasture
One splendid stallion
Paws the meadow, a champion racer,
A horse that runs in dreams.
…..
Imagine her if you can. Her hair,
As gold as a Venetian mane,
Flowers around her silver eyes.
What can I say to make you see?
She is Hagesikhora and
Agido, almost, almost as beautiful,
Is a Kolaxaian filly running behind her
In the races at Ibeno.
A Pleiades of doves they are
Contending at dawn before the altar of Artemis
For the honor of offering the sacred plow
Which we have brought to the goddess.
They are the white star Sirius rising
In the honey and spice of a summer night.
……
And she is, she is our own,
The splendid-ankled Hagesikhora!
With Agido, by whose side she lingers,
She honors the rites with her beauty.
Accept her prayers O gods,
For she is your handiwork,
Perfect of her kind.
And I, I, O Choirmaster,
Am but an ordinary girl.
I hoot like an owl in the roof.
I long to worship the goddess of the dawn
Whose gift is peace. For Hagesikhora
We sing, for her we virgin girls
Make our lovely harmonies.
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Translation Guy DAVENPORT