Nemean

Pindar

Pindar. Arnson Svarlien, Diane, translator. Created for the Perseus Project, 1990.

  1. father Zeus, and join the people with splendid celebrations in their city. There they have men who love horses and whose souls are superior to wealth. My words are hard to believe; for reverence, which brings renown, is secretly beguiled by the love of gain. If you had been Chromius’ shield-bearer among foot-soldiers and horses, and in ship-battles,
  2. you would have been able to judge the danger of the sharp battle-cry,
  3. because in battle it was that goddess, Reverence, who armed his warrior-spirit to repel the destruction of the war-god. But few are able to conspire with hand and heart to turn back against the ranks of the enemy the cloud of slaughter that presses close upon them. Indeed men say that glory blossomed for Hector beside the flowing Scamander;
  4. and around the steep cliffs of the Helorus’ banks
  5. at the place which men call “the passage of Rhea,” this light has shone on the son of Hagesidamus, in his earliest manhood. I will tell of the honors he won at other times, many on the dust of dry land and on the neighboring sea. And out of toils, which are undertaken with the aid of youth and justice, there comes a gentle life at the approach of old age.
  6. Let him know that he has received marvellous prosperity from the gods.
  7. For if, together with many possessions, a man wins renown and glory, there is no higher peak on which a mortal can set his feet. Peace loves the symposium, and new-flourishing victory is fostered by soft song, and the voice becomes bold beside the mixing-bowl.
  8. Let someone mix the wine now, the sweet forerunner of victory-song,
  9. and dispense the powerful son of the vine in those silver goblets which once Chromius’ horses won for him and sent from holy Sicyon together with the duly twined garlands of Leto’s son. Father Zeus, I pray that I may celebrate this excellence by the favor of the Graces, and excel many poets in honoring victory with my verses,
  10. throwing my shaft nearest of all to the mark of the Muses.