The Dream of Love that Lingers

Anacreonta, 1

“That Teian singer, Anacreon,
saw me in a dream
as I was running to kiss and embrace him,
He spoke to me.

He was an old man, but still fine,
Fine and loving still,
His lips scented with wine.
And as he trembled, Love

Led him by the hand.
He lifted the flowers from his crown
And gave them to me–
Oh, they smelled of Anacreon!

Just like the fool I am, I took them
And placed them on my brow
And thanks to that, I never stopped loving
right up to now.”

Ἀνακρέων ἰδών με
ὁ Τήιος μελῳδὸς
ὄναρ λέγων προσεῖπεν,
κἀγὼ δραμὼν πρὸς αὐτὸν

περιπλάκην φιλήσας.
γέρων μὲν ἦν, καλὸς δέ,
καλὸς δὲ καὶ φίλευνος·
τὸ χεῖλος ὦζεν οἴνου,
τρέμοντα δ᾿ αὐτὸν ἤδη

Ἔρως ἐχειραγώγει.
ὁ δ᾿ ἐξελὼν καρήνου
ἐμοὶ στέφος δίδωσι·
τὸ δ᾿ ὦζ᾿ Ἀνακρέοντος.
ἐγὼ δ᾿ ὁ μωρὸς ἄρας

ἐδησάμην μετώπῳ·
καὶ δῆθεν ἄχρι καὶ νῦν
ἔρωτος οὐ πέπαυμαι.

Henri Rousseau. The Dream. 1910. MOMA

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