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#theognis – @lionofchaeronea on Tumblr
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The Lion of Chaeronea

@lionofchaeronea / lionofchaeronea.tumblr.com

A blog dedicated to classical antiquity, poetry, and the visual arts. All translations of Greek and Latin are my own unless otherwise noted.
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The Passing of Youth

Mindless mortals and puerile, who weep for those who’ve died But not for the flower of youth as it is withering. ἄφρονες ἄνθρωποι καὶ νήπιοι, οἵτε θανόντας κλαίουσ᾽, οὐδ᾽ ἥβης ἄνθος ἀπολλύμενον. -[Theognis], Elegies 1069-70
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The Definition of Virtue

Theognis, Elegies 1177-78

If you should neither suffer disgraceful deeds nor do them,      Cyrnus, you’d reach virtue’s farthest bound.

εἴ κ᾽ εἴης ἔργων αἰσχρῶν ἀπαθὴς καὶ ἀεργός,      Κύρνε, μέγιστόν κεν πεῖραρ ἔχοις ἀρετῆς.

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Drink Responsibly

Theognidea 211-212 It’s a base thing to drink a lot of wine; but if a man Drinks with understanding, wine isn’t base, but noble. οἶνόν τοι πίνειν πουλὺν κακόν: ἢν δέ τις αὐτὸν πίνῃ ἐπισταμένως, οὐ κακὸς ἀλλ᾽ ἀγαθός.

Wine Drinker by a Dish with Oysters, François Xaver Henri Verbeeck (1686-1755)

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When in Rome...

Theognis 313-14 Among the mad I’m mad indeed, but among The just, I am the most just of all people.   ἐν μὲν μαινομένοις μάλα μαίνομαι, ἐν δὲ δικαίοις πάντων ἀνθρώπων εἰμὶ δικαιότατος.

Justice, Pierre Subleyras (1699-1749)

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The Importance of Moderation

Theognis 335-336

μηδὲν ἄγαν σπεύδειν: πάντων μέσ᾽ ἄριστα: καὶ οὕτως, Κύρν᾽, ἕξεις ἀρετήν, ἥντε λαβεῖν χαλεπόν. Strive for nothing too much; the mean is best in all things; And thus, Cyrnus, you'll have virtue -- to get hold of which is tough.

Temperance, Piero del Pollaiuolo, 1470

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The Limits of Strength

Theognidea 293-294 Even the lion does not always feast on meat, But mighty as he is, all the same helplessness seizes him. οὐδὲ λέων αἰεὶ κρέα δαίνυται, ἀλλά μιν ἔμπης καὶ κρατερόν περ ἐόνθ᾽ αἱρεῖ ἀμηχανίη.

Lion Devouring a Goat, imitator of Eugène Delacroix, mid-19th century

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The Virtue of Flexibility

Theognidea 213-218 Heart, turn your mottled character To match all your friends, mixing The temperament each one has. Keep the temperament of an octopus, Much-twisting creature, which looks just like Whichever rock it keeps company with. At one moment follow along this way, At another be otherwise in your skin. Wisdom, you know, beats rigidity. θυμέ, φίλους κατὰ πάντας ἐπίστρεφε ποικίλον ἦθος, ὀργὴν συμμίσγων ἥντιν᾽ ἕκαστος ἔχει. πουλύπου ὀργὴν ἴσχε πολυπλόκου, ὃς ποτὶ πέτρῃ τῇ προσομιλήσῃ τοῖος ἰδεῖν ἐφάνη: νῦν μὲν τῇδ᾽ ἐφέπου, τότε δ᾽ ἀλλοῖος χρόα γίνου. κρέσσων τοι σοφίη γίνεται ἀτροπίης.

Mycenaean palace amphora depicting an octopus. Artist unknown; 15th cent. BCE. Now in the National Archaeological Museum, Athens. Photo credit: Paolo Villa.

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On Fair-Weather Friends

Theognidea 209-210 When you’re in exile, no one’s a friend, no one’s a trusty companion: This is a thing more grievous than the fact of exile itself. οὐδείς τοι φεύγοντι φίλος καὶ πιστὸς ἑταῖρος: τῆς δὲ φυγῆς ἐστιν τοῦτ᾽ ἀνιηρότερον.

Dante in Exile, attr. to Domenico Peterlini, ca. 1860

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A Diatribe on the Evils of Poverty

Theognidea 173-178 Of all things, poverty most masters a good man- More than gray old age, Cyrnus, and more than fever too. To flee poverty’s grip, one should even fling oneself Into the wide-yawning sea, or down from steep rocks. For when a man is under the yoke of poverty, There’s nothing he can say or do – his tongue is bound fast. ἄνδρ᾽ ἀγαθὸν πενίη πάντων δάμνησι μάλιστα καὶ γήρως πολιοῦ, Κύρνε, καὶ ἠπιάλου: ἣν δὴ χρὴ φεύγοντα καὶ ἐς βαθυκήτεα πόντον ῥιπτεῖν καὶ πετρέων, Κύρνε, κατ᾽ ἠλιβάτων. καὶ γὰρ ἀνὴρ πενίῃ δεδμημένος οὔτε τι εἰπεῖν οὔτ᾽ ἔρξαι δύναται, γλῶσσα δέ οἱ δέδεται.

The Pauper, Theodor Kittelsen, 1894-95

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On False Friends

Theognidea 117-118 Nothing is harder to detect than a man who’s counterfeit, Kyrnos, nor is aught worthy of more care. κιβδήλου δ᾽ ἀνδρὸς γνῶναι χαλεπώτερον οὐδέν, Κύρν᾽, οὐδ᾽ εὐλαβίης ἐστὶ περὶ πλέονος.

The Bee Friend, Hans Thoma, 1863-64

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The Birth of Apollo

Theognidea 5-10 Lord Phoebus, when she bore you – the goddess, Lady Leto, Grabbing with her slender hands hold of a palm tree – You, most comely of immortals, by a lake shaped like a wheel, The odor of ambrosia filled all of boundless Delos, The vast earth laughed, the deep abyss of the gray salt-sea rejoiced. Φοῖβε ἄναξ, ὅτε μέν σε θεὰ τέκε πότνια Λητώ, φοίνικος ῥαδινῇς χερσὶν ἐφαψαμένη, ἀθανάτων κάλλιστον, ἐπὶ τροχοειδέϊ λίμνῃ, πᾶσα μὲν ἐπλήσθη Δῆλος ἀπειρεσίη ὀδμῆς ἀμβροσίης, ἐγέλασσε δὲ γαῖα πελώρη, γήθησεν δὲ βαθὺς πόντος ἁλὸς πολιῆς.

Latona Giving Birth to Apollo and Diana on the Island of Delos, Diana Scultori (b. 1535) after Giulio Romano

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In the interest of keeping my Greek fresh by reading a little bit every morning, I've embarked on the Theognidea. Nothing quite like an obnoxious blue-blood sneering at upstart nouveaux riches to brighten your morning.

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An Address to Wine

Theognidea 873-876 Wine, I praise you in some respects, In others I reproach you. I can neither hate you fully Nor wholeheartedly embrace you. You’re a fine thing and a blight: Who could find fault with you? Who again could sing your praises If he had a measure of wisdom? Οἶνε, τὰ μέν σ᾽ αἰνῶ, τὰ δὲ μέμφομαι: οὐδέ σε πάμπαν οὔτε ποτ᾽ ἐχθαίρειν οὔτε φιλεῖν δύναμαι. ἐσθλὸν καὶ κακόν ἐσσι: τίς ἄν σέ γε μωμήσαιτο, τίς δ᾽ ἂν ἐπαινήσαι, μέτρον ἔχων σοφίης;

Still Life with Two Glasses of Red Wine, Albert Anker (1831-1910)

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A Symposiast’s Prayer to Artemis

Theognidea 11-14 Beast-Slayer Artemis, daughter of Zeus, whose image Agamemnon Set up when he was setting sail for Troy in his swift ships, Hear me as I pray, and keep the evil dooms from my door – A meager task, o goddess, for you, but a great thing to me.   Ἄρτεμι θηροφόνη, θύγατερ Διός, ἣν Ἀγαμέμνων εἵσαθ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἐς Τροίην ἔπλεε νηυσὶ θοῇς, εὐχομένῳ μοι κλῦθι, κακὰς δ᾽ ἀπὸ κῆρας ἄλαλκε: σοὶ μὲν τοῦτο, θεά, σμικρόν, ἐμοὶ δὲ μέγα.

Artemis with bow and arrow before an altar. Attic red-figure lekythos, artist unknown; ca. 475 BCE. From Tomb 123 of the Manicalunga necropolis in Selinunte, Sicily; now in the Regional Archaeological Museum Antonio Salinas, Palermo. Photo credit:  © Marie-Lan Nguyen / Wikimedia Commons.

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Machiavelli Would Be Proud

Theognis, Elegies 1.362-363 Diehl-Young

Flatter your enemy well; but when he’s in your power, Lay out no pretext – just take revenge on him. Εὖ κώτιλλε τὸν ἐχθρόν· ὅταν δ’ ὑποχείριος ἔλθηι,     τεῖσαί νιν πρόφασιν μηδεμίαν θέμενος.

Ulysses’ Revenge on Penelope’s Suitors, Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg, 1814

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The Evils of Poverty

Theognis, Elegies 172-181 Poverty subdues a noble man more than anything else-  More than gray-haired old age, Cyrnus, more than ague. In fleeing poverty, Cyrnus, one should even fling oneself down  Into the deep-sounding sea, from the steep rocks. For every man who is overcome by poverty can neither say a word  Nor do a single thing- his tongue is bound fast. For one should search alike over the earth and the broad back of the sea,  Cyrnus, for liberation from harsh poverty. O friend Cyrnus, it is better for an impoverished man to die  Than to go on living ground down by harsh poverty. Ἄνδρ’ ἀγαθὸν πενίη πάντων δάμνησι μάλιστα,   καὶ γήρως πολιοῦ, Κύρνε, καὶ ἠπιάλου. ἣν δὴ χρὴ φεύγοντα καὶ ἐς βαθυκήτεα πόντον   ῥιπτεῖν καὶ πετρέων, Κύρνε, κατ’ ἠλιβάτων. πᾶς γὰρ ἀνὴρ πενίηι δεδμημένος οὔτε τι εἰπεῖν   οὔθ’ ἕρξαι δύναται, γλῶσσα δέ οἱ δέδεται. χρὴ γὰρ ὁμῶς ἐπὶ γῆν τε καὶ εὐρέα νῶτα θαλάσσης  δίζησθαι χαλεπῆς, Κύρνε, λύσιν πενίης. τεθνάμεναι, φίλε Κύρνε, πενιχρῶι βέλτερον ἀνδρί   ἢ ζώειν χαλεπῆι τειρόμενον πενίηι.

Alms to the Poor, Michel Martin Drolling, 1st half of 19th century

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There's No Place Like Home

Theognis, Elegies 1.782-787 For I came once even to the land of Sicily, And I came too to Euboea’s vine-filled plain; Likewise to Sparta, that shining citadel Of the river Eurotas that nurtures reeds. Everyone greeted me warmly when I arrived, Yet in my mind I derived no joy from any of them. So true did it prove that nothing- nothing at all- Is dearer to me than the country of my birth.

Ἦλθον μὲν γὰρ ἔγωγε καὶ εἰς Σικελήν ποτε γαῖαν,    ἦλθον δ’ Εὐβοίης ἀμπελόεν πεδίον Σπάρτην δ’ Εὐρώτα δονακοτρόφου ἀγλαὸν ἄστυ·    καί μ’ ἐφίλευν προφρόνως πάντες ἐπερχόμενον· ἀλλ’ οὔτις μοι τέρψις ἐπὶ φρένας ἦλθεν ἐκείνων.    οὕτως οὐδὲν ἄρ’ ἦν φίλτερον ἄλλο πάτρης.

Die Heimkehr (The Homecoming), Arnold Böcklin, 1887

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