The Spirits of Death and the Choice Each Day Brings

For all those surrounded by ghosts each holiday season. CW, suicide

Simonides, fr. 1 = Stobaeus 4.34.15

“Child, Zeus the loud-thunderer maintains the end
Of everything in the world and makes it how he likes.

Humans have no plans, but we just live for each day
Like animals who know nothing about
How the god will bring each thing to pass.

Hope and belief feed everyone who is eager
For the impossible. Some wait for the day to come,
But others look for the next season;
There’s no mortal alive who doesn’t think
That the new year will make them a friend to wealth and good living.

But old age beats us to it and takes one person
Before they’re done and terrible diseases that
Torture mortals overtake others. In the meantime,
Hades sends others subdued by war under the dark earth.

Even more die tossed about on the sea by winds
And on the rising waves of purple brine,
Whenever they fail to make a living on land.
And some leave the life of the sun by choice,
Tying a noose in a loop for an awful end.

So nothing is free of troubles, and thousands
Of death spirits and unpredictable pains stand waiting for us.
If we listen to my advice, though, we won’t long for grief,
Nor will we give ourselves more, by feasting our hearts on pain.”

ὦ παῖ, τέλος μὲν Ζεὺς ἔχει βαρύκτυπος
πάντων ὅσ᾿ ἐστὶ καὶ τίθησ᾿ ὅκῃ θέλει,
νοῦς δ᾿ οὐκ ἐπ᾿ ἀνθρώποισιν, ἀλλ᾿ ἐπήμεροι
ἃ δὴ βοτὰ ζώομεν, οὐδὲν εἰδότες
5ὅκως ἕκαστον ἐκτελευτήσει θεός.
ἐλπὶς δὲ πάντας κἀπιπειθείη τρέφει
ἄπρηκτον ὁρμαίνοντας· οἱ μὲν ἡμέρην
μένουσιν ἐλθεῖν, οἱ δ᾿ ἐτέων περιτροπάς·
νέωτα δ᾿ οὐδεὶς ὅστις οὐ δοκεῖ βροτῶν
πλούτῳ τε κἀγαθοῖσιν ἵξεσθαι φίλος.
φθάνει δὲ τὸν μὲν γῆρας ἄζηλον λαβὸν
πρὶν τέρμ᾿ ἵκηται, τοὺς δὲ δύστηνοι βροτῶν
φθείρουσι νοῦσοι, τοὺς δ᾿ Ἄρει δεδμημένους
πέμπει μελαίνης Ἀΐδης ὑπὸ χθονός·
οἱ δ᾿ ἐν θαλάσσῃ λαίλαπι κλονεόμενοι
καὶ κύμασιν πολλοῖσι πορφυρῆς ἁλὸς
θνήσκουσιν, εὖτ᾿ ἂν μὴ δυνήσωνται ζόειν·
οἱ δ᾿ ἀγχόνην ἅψαντο δυστήνῳ μόρῳ
καὐτάγρετοι λείπουσιν ἡλίου φάος.
οὕτω κακῶν ἄπ᾿ οὐδέν, ἀλλὰ μυρίαι
βροτοῖσι κῆρες κἀνεπίφραστοι δύαι
καὶ πήματ᾿ ἐστίν. εἰ δ᾿ ἐμοὶ πιθοίατο,
οὐκ ἂν κακῶν ἐρῷμεν, οὐδ᾿ ἐπ᾿ ἄλγεσιν
κακοῖς ἔχοντες θυμὸν αἰκιζοίμεθα.

Mimnermus, 2 [=Stobaeus 4.34.12]5-8

“The dark spirits of death are standing beside us.
One holds eventual old age, in pain,
The other has death. The fruit of youth is brief,
As long as the sun’s light stretches across the earth.”

…Κῆρες δὲ παρεστήκασι μέλαιναι,
ἡ μὲν ἔχουσα τέλος γήραος ἀργαλέου,
ἡ δ᾿ ἑτέρη θανάτοιο· μίνυνθα δὲ γίνεται ἥβης
καρπός, ὅσον τ᾿ ἐπὶ γῆν κίδναται ἠέλιος.

Homer, Iliad 12.326-8

“But now, since the spirts of death stand fast around us
By the thousands, and there is no way any mortal can escape them,
Let us go and offer a reason to boast to someone else, or take it for ourselves”

νῦν δ’ ἔμπης γὰρ κῆρες ἐφεστᾶσιν θανάτοιο
μυρίαι, ἃς οὐκ ἔστι φυγεῖν βροτὸν οὐδ’ ὑπαλύξαι,
ἴομεν ἠέ τῳ εὖχος ὀρέξομεν ἠέ τις ἡμῖν.

Draweing of a main on a bed with one figure floating above him and another standing above him weeping while his spirit flees through a window

Feeling Sad? Just Think of All the Famous Dead People

Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.47

“Always keep in mind that all sorts of people from all kinds of occupations and from every country on earth have died. And take this thought to Philistion and Phoibos and Origanion. Turn to the rest of the peoples on earth too.

We have to cross over to the same place where all those clever speakers and so many serious philosophers have gone—Heraclitus, Pythagoras, Socrates—and where those great heroes of old, the brave generals and tyrants have gone too. Among them are Eudoxos, Hipparchus, Archimedes,  and other sharp natures, big minds, tireless men, bold men, and those who mock the temporary and disposable nature of life itself, like Menippus and the rest.

Think about all these people, that they have been dead for a long time. Why is this terrible for them? Why worry about those who are no longer named? This one thing is worth much: to keep on living with truth and justice and in good will even among liars and unjust men.”

Ἐννόει συνεχῶς παντοίους ἀνθρώπους καὶ παντοίων μὲν ἐπιτηδευμάτων, παντοδαπῶν δὲ ἐθνῶν, τεθνεῶτας· ὥστε κατιέναι τοῦτο μέχρι Φιλιστίωνος καὶ Φοίβου καὶ Ὀριγανίωνος. μέτιθι νῦν ἐπὶ τὰ ἄλλα φῦλα. ἐκεῖ δὴ μεταβαλεῖν ἡμᾶς δεῖ, ὅπου τοσοῦτοι μὲν δεινοὶ ῥήτορες, τοσοῦτοι δὲ σεμνοὶ φιλόσοφοι, Ἡράκλειτος, Πυθαγόρας, Σωκράτης· τοσοῦτοι δὲ ἥρωες πρότερον, τοσοῦτοι δὲ ὕστερον στρατηγοί, τύραννοι· ἐπὶ τούτοις δὲ Εὔδοξος, Ἵππαρχος, Ἀρχιμήδης, ἄλλαι φύσεις ὀξεῖαι, μεγαλόφρονες, φιλόπονοι, πανοῦργοι, αὐθάδεις, αὐτῆς τῆς ἐπικήρου καὶ ἐφημέρου τῶν ἀνθρώπων ζωῆς χλευασταί, οἶον Μένιππος καὶ ὅσοι τοιοῦτοι. περὶ πάντων τούτων ἐννόει, ὅτι πάλαι κεῖνται. τί οὖν τοῦτο δεινὸν αὐτοῖς; τί δαὶ τοῖς μηδ᾿ ὀνομαζομένοις ὅλως; Ἓν ὧδε πολλοῦ ἄξιον, τὸ μετ᾿ ἀληθείας καὶ δικαιοσύνης εὐμενῆ τοῖς ψεύσταις καὶ ἀδίκοις διαβιοῦν.

File:David - The Death of Socrates.jpg

Jacques-Louis David, The Death of Socrates 1787

A Memorial of Pain to His Enemies

IG IV 783 Troizen

[fragmentary lines]

mild-minded and gentle…[..]..
On their own family they set […]
but while god allotted [him] countless gifts,
he never forgot his own country

Hermas…..[this] marble copy
Of the best man Olympos.

I sing of him and the fame of his ancestors
Who once [at] the founding of Troizen
Made the city noble and revered in glory.
I myself stand showing this memory.
Causing pain to their enemies, but dear to their friends
By the vote…..of the people.

A.1
[— — — — — — —]#⁷․Υ̣ΠΟΝΩΞΕΝΟϹ Ἑρμᾶς
[— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —]#⁷ΙΙΟ̣ΙϹ[— —]
[— — —]#⁷Η̣ΧΑ#⁷Ι#⁷[— — — — — — — — — — — —]
[— — —]ΙΕΚΥΔΑΙΝΕΙΝΛΙ̣[— — — — — — — — — —]
ΕΝ ἠπιόφρων καὶ μείλιχος [— — —]Ν[— —]
ἐ̣ν γενεῇ σφετέρῃ θῆκεν(?) ΛΙΙ[— — —]
[ἀλ]λὰ θεὸς νεύσιεν ἔχειν ἀπερείσια δῶρ̣[α]
οὔποτε τῆς ἰδίης λησαμέν̣ῳ πα̣τρίδος.

                                vacat
B.1
Ἑρμᾶς ΡΥ̣Ι̣Ο̣[— — —]ΛΙϹΤΟΝΕΝ̣ΚΚ̣#⁷Ϲ, τύπ̣[ον]
ἀνδρὸς φερ̣ίστου μη̣νύων Ὀλυμπί[ο]υ·
ᾄδω δὲ τοῦτον καὶ προπατόρων κλ̣[έος],
οἳ π̣ρίν ποτ ἄστυ, τοῦ δὲ Τροιζῆνος κ[τίσιν],
ἔθηκαν ἀισθλὸν καὶ γέρηραν εὐκλε[ῶς].
ἕστηκα δ αὐτὸς δόγμα δεικνύων τ[όδε]·
λυπῶν μὲν ἐκθρούς, τοῖς φίλοισι δ ὢν φ[ίλος].

   ψ(ηφίσματι)              δ(ήμου).

Photography of sun coming over a mountain ridge in the background with trees and wildflowers in the foreground
The archaeological site of Troizen, Greece, picture taken in 2011

Death, Sleep, and Our Bodies’ Recyclable Clay

Plutarch, Moralia. A Letter of Condolence to Apollonius, 106e-f

“For when is death not present among us? Truly, as Heraclitus says, “living and dying is the same and so is being awake and asleep or youth and old age. For each turns back into the other again.”

Just as someone can make shapes of living things from the same clay and then collapse them and shape something new again repeatedly, so too did nature shape our ancestors from the same material, collapse it, and reshape it to make our parents and us in turn”

πότε γὰρ ἐν ἡμῖν αὐτοῖς οὐκ ἔστιν ὁ θάνατος; καί, ᾗ φησιν Ἡράκλειτος, “ταὐτό γ᾿ ἔνι ζῶν καὶ τεθνηκὸς καὶ τὸ ἐγρηγορὸς καὶ τὸ καθεῦδον καὶ νέον καὶ γηραιόν· τάδε γὰρ μεταπεσόντα ἐκεῖνά ἐστι, κἀκεῖνα πάλιν μεταπεσόντα ταῦτα.” ὡς γὰρ ἐκ τοῦ αὐτοῦ πηλοῦ δύναταί τις πλάττων ζῷα συγχεῖν καὶ πάλιν πλάττειν καὶ συγχεῖν καὶ τοῦθ᾿ ἓν παρ᾿ ἓν ποιεῖν ἀδιαλείπτως, οὕτω καὶ ἡ φύσις ἐκ τῆς αὐτῆς ὕλης πάλαι μὲν τοὺς προγόνους ἡμῶν ἀνέσχεν, εἶτα συνεχεῖς αὐτοῖς3 ἐγέννησε τοὺς πατέρας, εἶθ᾿ ἡμᾶς,

black and white photo of an artist sitting in a studio looking at a sculpture. The woman is sitting on a stool looking at a small figurine on a high table in front of home

The Soul and Its Heroic Return, Two Fragments from Pindar

Pindar, Dirges Fr. 131b [= Plut. consol. ad Apoll. 35.120C]

“Every human’s body is a servant to death–
Yet a shadow of life goes on living still.
This part alone
Comes from the gods. It sleeps while our limbs move
But when we sleep it shows us
in multiple dreams a choice of things to come,
Some of pleasure, some of pain.”

σῶμα μὲν πάντων ἕπεται θανάτῳ περισθενεῖ,
ζωὸν δ᾿ ἔτι λείπεται αἰῶνος εἴδωλον·
τὸ γάρ ἐστι μόνον
ἐκ θεῶν· εὕδει δὲ πρασσόντων μελέων, ἀτὰρ εὑδόντεσσιν
ἐν πολλοῖς ὀνείροις
δείκνυσι τερπνῶν ἐφέρποισαν χαλεπῶν τε κρίσιν.

Pindar, Dirges Fr. 133 [=Plat. Men. 81B]

“When Persephone has taken the payment for that ancient pain,
From people, after nine years she gives their souls back
To the light of the sun above and from them come

Proud kings and men fast in strength and best in mind
And people call them holy heroes
for all that remains of time.”

οἷσι δὲ Φερσεφόνα ποινὰν παλαιοῦ πένθεος
δέξεται, ἐς τὸν ὕπερθεν ἅλιον κείνων ἐνάτῳ ἔτεϊ
ἀνδιδοῖ ψυχὰς πάλιν, ἐκ τᾶν βασιλῆες ἀγαυοί
καὶ σθένει κραιπνοὶ σοφίᾳ τε μέγιστοι
ἄνδρες αὔξοντ᾿· ἐς δὲ τὸν λοιπὸν χρόνον ἥροες ἁ-
γνοὶ πρὸς ἀνθρώπων καλέονται.

A somewhat impressionistic oil painting with outlines of two partial figures. One looks down and left, the other is seen only by an elbow in the upper right. The canvas is split between dark blue on top and tan on the bottom
“The freedom of new thinking”, by Erik Pevernagie, oil on canvas,80 x 100 cm

Don’t Worry About All the Ways We Can Die!

cw: suicide

Simonides Fr. 1 [= Stob. 4.34.15]

“Child, Zeus the lound-thunderer manages every ending
And makes everything turn out the way he wants.
People don’t have any sense, but we live for the day
Just like animals in the field who know nothing
About how the god will finish each thing.

Still, hope and belief feed us all,
Making us strive for what can’t be done.
Some of us wait for the coming day, others for seasons–
But every mortal expects the new year
to make them a friend to wealth and fortune.

But begrudging old age overtakes one person before
Before they finish their race and awful sicknesses
ruin others, and then Hades sends some,
under the dark earth overcome by Ares in war.

Others die whirled about by winds
And the crashing waves of the dark sea
When they go sailing because they can’t earn a living.
Others choose to leave the light of the sun,
Fitting themselves to a noose with a miserable fate.

And so there’s nothing free of evils! Instead mortals have
Endless ways to die and unexpected disasters and pain.

If you listen to me, we wouldn’t desire troubles at all,
Nor would we disfigure ourselves by
Focusing our hearts on grief and misfortune.”

ὦ παῖ, τέλος μὲν Ζεὺς ἔχει βαρύκτυπος
πάντων ὅσ᾿ ἐστὶ καὶ τίθησ᾿ ὅκῃ θέλει,
νοῦς δ᾿ οὐκ ἐπ᾿ ἀνθρώποισιν, ἀλλ᾿ ἐπήμεροι
ἃ δὴ βοτὰ ζώομεν, οὐδὲν εἰδότες
ὅκως ἕκαστον ἐκτελευτήσει θεός.

ἐλπὶς δὲ πάντας κἀπιπειθείη τρέφει
ἄπρηκτον ὁρμαίνοντας· οἱ μὲν ἡμέρην
μένουσιν ἐλθεῖν, οἱ δ᾿ ἐτέων περιτροπάς·
νέωτα δ᾿ οὐδεὶς ὅστις οὐ δοκεῖ βροτῶν
πλούτῳ τε κἀγαθοῖσιν ἵξεσθαι φίλος.

φθάνει δὲ τὸν μὲν γῆρας ἄζηλον λαβὸν
πρὶν τέρμ᾿ ἵκηται, τοὺς δὲ δύστηνοι βροτῶν
φθείρουσι νοῦσοι, τοὺς δ᾿ Ἄρει δεδμημένους
πέμπει μελαίνης Ἀΐδης ὑπὸ χθονός·

οἱ δ᾿ ἐν θαλάσσῃ λαίλαπι κλονεόμενοι
καὶ κύμασιν πολλοῖσι πορφυρῆς ἁλὸς
θνήσκουσιν, εὖτ᾿ ἂν μὴ δυνήσωνται ζόειν·
οἱ δ᾿ ἀγχόνην ἅψαντο δυστήνῳ μόρῳ
καὐτάγρετοι λείπουσιν ἡλίου φάος.

οὕτω κακῶν ἄπ᾿ οὐδέν, ἀλλὰ μυρίαι
βροτοῖσι κῆρες κἀνεπίφραστοι δύαι

καὶ πήματ᾿ ἐστίν. εἰ δ᾿ ἐμοὶ πιθοίατο,
οὐκ ἂν κακῶν ἐρῷμεν, οὐδ᾿ ἐπ᾿ ἄλγεσιν
κακοῖς ἔχοντες θυμὸν αἰκιζοίμεθα.

A painting from a cathedral that has skeletons in black robes tending plants in pots on various tables
“The Garden of Death” Hugo Simberg (1906)

This is the Way: Perishing Because of Evil Plans

Alcman Fr. 1 [= P. Louvr. E 33201]

“…Polydeukes.
I do not care that Lukaisin is among the dead*
And Enasphoros and swift-footed Sebros
The violent one….
The helmeted one…

Or Euteikhes and lord Areios
Exceptional among the Heroes.
The summoner
Great Eurotos in the chaos of Ares
And Alkon, and the best men
We will certainly not ignore them.

Yet Fate and the Way
Those most ancient ones
Overcame them all
And their untethered courage
Perished.

No human should fly to the heaven
Nor try to marry Aphrodite
The Kyprian Queen
Nor some child of Porkos, the sea-god

The Graces with loving eyes
Go to visit the house of Zeus.

A deity….
For friends…
Gives gifts…

In vain…
One went, another of them dead by arrow
Another by a marble millstone…
In Hades now…
Those people
Suffered unforgettable pain
Because they had evil plans.”

] Πωλυδεύκης·
οὐκ ἐγὼ]ν Λύκαισον ἐν καμοῦσιν ἀλέγω
Ἐνα]ρσφόρον τε καὶ Σέβρον ποδώκη
]ν τε τὸν βιατὰν
]. τε τὸν κορυστὰν
Εὐτείχη] τε ϝάνακτά τ᾿ Ἀρήιον
]ά τ᾿ ἔξοχον ἡμισίων·
καὶ ]ν τὸν ἀγρέταν
] μέγαν Εὔρυτόν τε
Ἄρεος ἂν] πώρω κλόνον
Ἄλκωνά] τε τὼς ἀρίστως
οὐδ᾿ ἁμῶς] παρήσομες·
κράτησε γ]ὰρ Αἶσα παντῶν
καὶ Πόρος] γεραιτάτοι,
λύθη δ᾿ ἀπ]έδιλος ἀλκά.
μή τις ἀνθ]ρώπων ἐς ὠρανὸν ποτήσθω
μηδὲ πη]ρήτω γαμῆν τὰν Ἀφροδίταν
Κυπρίαν ϝ]άν[α]σσαν ἤ τιν᾿
] ἢ παίδα Πόρκω
εἰναλίω· Χά]ριτες δὲ Διὸς δόμον
ἀμφιέπου]σιν ἐρογλεφάροι·
]τάτοι
]α δαίμων
]ι φίλοις
ἔδ]ωκε δῶρα
]γαρέον
]ώλεσ᾿ ἥβα
]ρονον
μ]ταίας
]έβα· τῶν δ᾿ ἄλλος ἰῶι
]μαρμάρωι μυλάκρωι
]. εν Ἀΐδας
]αυτοι
]΄πον· ἄλαστα δὲ
ϝέργα πάσον κακὰ μησαμένοι.

Red figure vase: three figures pictured: a lyre player, identified as Orpheus, seated on left, a thracian standing with spear in the middle, a woman standing talking to the thracian on right

Greek, Attic; Bell-krater; Vases; Obverse, Orpheus among the Thracians; Reverse, libation scene. C 440 BCE, Painter of London E 497

 

*I may be obtuse or too lazy to follow it up, but I cannot make sense of the Loeb translation that takes the reconstructed οὐκ ἐγὼ]ν Λύκαισον ἐν καμοῦσιν ἀλέγω as “I do not reckon L. among the dead”. It seems atypical for the semantics of the verb and thematically unrelated to the judgment of this poem.

Put Those Cares to Sleep!

Anacreonta, 45

“When I drink wine,
My worries go to sleep.
Why care about work?
Why care about grief?
What do my anxieties matter to me?

I have to die, even if I don’t want to.
Why do I go back and forth over life?

Let’s drink the wine
Fine Lyaeus’ wine.
When we drink together
Our worries all go to sleep.”

ὅταν πίνω τὸν οἶνον,
εὕδουσιν αἱ μέριμναι.
τί μοι πόνων, τί μοι γόων,
τί μοι μέλει μεριμνῶν;
θανεῖν με δεῖ, κἂν μὴ θέλω·
τί τὸν βίον πλανῶμαι;
πίωμεν οὖν τὸν οἶνον
τὸν τοῦ καλοῦ Λυαίου·
σὺν τῷ δὲ πίνειν ἡμᾶς
εὕδουσιν αἱ μέριμναι.

Karel van Mander III, “Man drinking beer from a tankard” c. 1635

Carpe Diem is Too Late

Seneca, Consolation ad Marciam 10.5

“The spirit must be warned that it loves things which will one day leave—no, they are already leaving. Whatever is granted to you by fortune, take it as if it has no guaranty. Seize up the pleasures of your children and allow your children to enjoy you in turn. And drink down every bit of joy without stopping.

Nothing is promised to you for this evening—I have granted too much a pledge—nothing is promised for this hour. You must hurry, we are being chased from behind. Soon this friend will be elsewhere, soon these friendships will be lost lost when the battle’s cry is raised. In truth, everything is stolen away. Poor are you fools who do not know how to live in flight.”

Saepe admonendus est animus, amet ut recessura, immo tamquam recedentia. Quicquid a fortuna datum est, tamquam exempto auctore possideas. Rapite ex liberis voluptates, fruendos vos in vicem liberis date et sine dilatione omne gaudium haurite; nihil de hodierna nocte promittitur—nimis magnam advocationem dedi—, nihil de hac hora. Festinandum est, instatur a tergo. Iam disicietur iste comitatus, iam contubernia ista sublato clamore solventur. Rapina verum omnium est; miseri nescitis in fuga vivere!

It's #MorbidMonday and here comes death riding a skeletal horse @BLMedieval Yates Thompson 6 f. 137
@BLMedieval Yates Thompson 6 f. 137

Don’t Stop Thinking about…Tomorrow?

Simonides, Fr. 20

“As long as any person holds on to the beloved flower of youth,
Their heart is light, because they imagine many things are endless.
No one young thinks they will grow old and die.
The healthy person doesn’t spare a thought for sickness either.

Fools have minds like this, because they don’t understand
That mortals have only a short time for youth and life too.
You, learn these things and hold on to the end of your time,
Taking pleasure in the good things in your mind.”

θνητῶ⎦ν δ’ ὄ⎣φρα τις⎦ ἄνθος ἔχη⎣ι πολυήρατον ἥβης,
κοῦφο⎦ν ἔχω⎣ν θυμ⎦ὸν πόλλ’ ἀτέλεσ⎣τα νοεῖ·
οὔ⎦τε γὰρ ἐλπ⎣ίδ’ ἔχ⎦ει γηρασέμεν ⎣οὔτε θανεῖσθαι,
οὐδ’, ὑ⎦γιὴς ὅτα⎣ν ἦι, φ⎦ροντίδ’ ἔχει κ⎣αμάτου.
νή⎦πιοι, οἷς ταύ⎣τηι⎦ κεῖται νόος, ο⎣ὐδὲ ἴσασιν
ὡς χρό⎦νος ἔ⎣σθ’ ἥβη⎦ς καὶ βιότου ὀλ⎣ίγος
θνη⎦τοῖς. ἀλλὰ ⎣σὺ⎦ ταῦτα μαθὼν ⎣βιότου ποτὶ τέρμα
ψυχῆι τῶν⎦ ἀγαθῶν τλῆθι χα⎣ριζόμενος.

A cleaner version of the text:

θνητῶν δ’ ὄφρα τις ἄνθος ἔχῃ πολυήρατον ἥβης,
κοῦφον ἔχων θυμὸν πόλλ’ ἀτέλεστα νοεῖ.
οὔτε γὰρ ἐλπίδ’ ἔχει γηρασέμεν οὐδὲ θανεῖσθαι,
οὐδ’ ὑγιὴς ὅταν ᾖ, φροντίδ’ ἔχει καμάτου.
νήπιοι, οἷς ταύτῃ κεῖται νόος· οὐδὲ ἴσασιν
ὡς χρόνος ἔσθ’ ἥβης καὶ βιότοι’ ὀλίγος
θνητοῖς· ἀλλὰ σὺ ταῦτα μαθὼν βιότου ποτὶ τέρμα
ψυχῇ τῶν ἀγαθῶν τλῆθι χαριζόμενος.

N.B.This fragment is preserved in Stobaeus’ Extracts, under a section entitled “Concerning life, that it is brief and cheap and full of worry” ΠΕΡΙ ΤΟΥ ΒΙΟΥ, ΟΤΙ ΒΡΑΧΥΣ ΚΑΙ ΕΥΤΕΛΗΣ ΚΑΙ ΦΡΟΝΤΙΔΩΝ ΑΝΑΜΕΣΤΟΣ.

Edvard Munch, “Old age” 1908