Anacreonta 18
“Ladies, please give me
Give me wine to drink without pausing–
I am betrayed by the heat
And already whining out loud.
Give me garlands of his flowers
Give them to me so I can
Bind them closely to my roasted brow.
Yet, my heart, what can I use
To keep off the heat of my loves?
I will settle along the shade of Bathullos
That tree is pretty.
It lets tender locks sway
At the end of the softest branches.
Nearby a spring flows
Whispering persuasively.
Who upon seeing such a refuge
Could ever pass it by?”
δότε μοι, δότ᾿, ὦ γυναῖκες,
Βρομίου πιεῖν ἀμυστί·
ἀπὸ καύματος γὰρ ἤδη
προδοθεὶς ἀναστενάζω.
δότε δ᾿ ἀνθέων ἐκείνου
στεφάνους, δόθ᾿, ὡς πυκάζω
τὰ μέτωπά μου᾿ πίκαυτα·
τὸ δὲ καῦμα τῶν Ἐρώτων,
κραδίη, τίνι σκεπάζω;
παρὰ τὴν σκιὴν Βαθύλλου
καθίσω· καλὸν τὸ δένδρον,
ἁπαλὰς δ᾿ ἔσεισε χαίτας
μαλακωτάτῳ κλαδίσκῳ·
παρὰ δ᾿ αὐτὸν †ἐρεθίζει†
πηγὴ ῥέουσα πειθοῦς.
τίς ἄν οὖν ὁρῶν παρέλθοι
καταγώγιον τοιοῦτο;
