Tag: Drinking Songs

Get Sh*T Ready and Drink

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songs and thoughts well-fit to birthdays

Anacreonta 48

“When Bacchus visits,
My worries slumber:
I dream I have Elon-wealth.

I want to sing prettily,.
But I’m stretched out with an ivy crown,
And I mock everything in my heart.

Get shit ready and let me drink.
Bring me a cup, son:
It is far better for me to lie here
Drunk instead of dead.”

ὅταν ὁ Βάκχος ἔλθῃ,
εὕδουσιν αἱ μέριμναι,
δοκῶ δ᾿ ἔχειν τὰ Κροίσου.
θέλω καλῶς ἀείδειν,
κισσοστεφὴς δὲ κεῖμαι,
πατῶ δ᾿ ἅπαντα θυμῷ.

ὅπλιζ᾿, ἐγὼ δὲ πίνω.

φέρε μοι κύπελλον, ὦ παῖ·
μεθύοντα γάρ με κεῖσθαι
πολὺ κρεῖσσον ἢ θανόντα.

Anacreonta 52a

“Why do you teach me laws
And rhetoricians’ customs?
What’s the use of so many speeches
That bring no help at all?

Teach me instead
To drink Dionysus’ subtle draught.
Teach me instead
To play with golden Aphrodite.”

τί με τοὺς νόμους διδάσκεις
καὶ ῥητόρων ἀνάγκας;
τί δέ μοι λόγων τοσούτων
τῶν μηδὲν ὠφελούντων;

μᾶλλον δίδασκε πίνειν
ἁπαλὸν πῶμα Λυαίου,
μᾶλλον δίδασκε παίζειν
μετὰ χρυσῆς Ἀφροδίτης.

Anacreonta 52b

“The hair is gray on my head.
Boy, give me water, add some wine
Make my heart numb.
Soon you will cover me, no longer alive.
You want nothing when you’re dead.”

πολιαὶ στέφουσι κάραν·
δὸς ὕδωρ, βάλ᾿ οἶνον, ὦ παῖ·
τὴν ψυχήν μου κάρωσον.
βραχὺ μὴ ζῶντα καλύπτεις.
ὁ θανὼν οὐκ ἐπιθυμεῖ.

a group of revelers from the 17th century, men and women drinking. There is a dog in the front listening to a bow play the violin
Jan Steen, “A Merry Party” 1660

To His Own Drunk Self, a Song

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Anacreonta 9: To His Own Drunk Self [εἰς ἑαυτὸν μεμεθυσμένον]

“Dear gods, let me drink,
Let me drink without pausing.
I want to go crazy, I do.

Alkmaion went crazy
And so did white-footed Orestes,
After they killed their mothers.

I haven’t killed anyone
drinking my red wine
I want to go crazy, I do.

Herakles went crazy once
Shaking his awful quiver
And Iphitus’ bow.
Ajax went crazy too
Holding up Hektor’s sword
With his shield.

I have this little cup
And this crown on my hair.
Not a bow or a sword.
I want to go crazy, I do.”

ἄφες με, τοὺς θεούς σοι,
πιεῖν, πιεῖν ἀμυστί·
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.
ἐμαίνετ᾿ Ἀλκμαίων τε
χὠ λευκόπους Ὀρέστης
τὰς μητέρας κτανόντες·
ἐγὼ δὲ μηδένα κτάς,
πιὼν δ᾿ ἐρυθρὸν οἶνον
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.

ἐμαίνετ᾿ Ἡρακλῆς πρὶν
δεινὴν κλονῶν φαρέτρην
καὶ τόξον Ἰφίτειον.
ἐμαίνετο πρὶν Αἴας
μετ᾿ ἀσπίδος κραδαίνων
τὴν Ἕκτορος μάχαιραν·

ἐγὼ δ᾿ ἔχων κύπελλον
καὶ στέμμα τοῦτο χαίτης,
οὐ τόξον, οὐ μάχαιραν,
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.

Drunken Hercules. A detail from the Baccanalia mosaic, Tsipory.

To His Own Drunk Self, a Song

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Anacreonta 9: To His Own Drunk Self [εἰς ἑαυτὸν μεμεθυσμένον]

“Dear gods, let me drink,
Let me drink without pausing.
I want to go crazy, I do.

Alkmaion went crazy
And so did white-footed Orestes,
After they killed their mothers.

I haven’t killed anyone
drinking my red wine
I want to go crazy, I do.

Herakles went crazy once
Shaking his awful quiver
And Iphitus’ bow.
Ajax went crazy too
Holding up Hektor’s sword
With his shield.

I have this little cup
And this crown on my hair.
Not a bow or a sword.
I want to go crazy, I do.”

ἄφες με, τοὺς θεούς σοι,
πιεῖν, πιεῖν ἀμυστί·
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.
ἐμαίνετ᾿ Ἀλκμαίων τε
χὠ λευκόπους Ὀρέστης
τὰς μητέρας κτανόντες·
ἐγὼ δὲ μηδένα κτάς,
πιὼν δ᾿ ἐρυθρὸν οἶνον
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.

ἐμαίνετ᾿ Ἡρακλῆς πρὶν
δεινὴν κλονῶν φαρέτρην
καὶ τόξον Ἰφίτειον.
ἐμαίνετο πρὶν Αἴας
μετ᾿ ἀσπίδος κραδαίνων
τὴν Ἕκτορος μάχαιραν·

ἐγὼ δ᾿ ἔχων κύπελλον
καὶ στέμμα τοῦτο χαίτης,
οὐ τόξον, οὐ μάχαιραν,
θέλω, θέλω μανῆναι.

Drunken Hercules. A detail from the Baccanalia mosaic, Tsipory.

The Dream of Love that Lingers

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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

Legislation, For Drunks

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Aristophanes, Acharnians 532-534

“[Perikles] used to make laws written like drinking songs:
That the Megarians were not to stay in the market
Nor the sea nor the beach in between”

ἐτίθει νόμους ὥσπερ σκόλια γεγραμμένους,
ὡς χρὴ Μεγαρέας μήτε γῇ μήτ’ ἐν ἀγορᾷ
μήτ’ ἐν θαλάττῃ μήτ’ ἐν ἠπείρῳ μένειν.

Schol. Ar. Ach. 532 

“[Perikles] used to make laws written like drinking songs”:

Timokreon of Rhodes, the lyric poet, wrote a drinking song like this against Wealth, which begins:

“Blind Wealth, I wish you had shown yourself
Neither on land nor on sea
Nor the beach in between.

You should have stayed underneath
living in Hell—thanks to you
all these evils for humans never cease.”

ἐτίθει νόμους· μιμούμενος τὸν τῶν σκολίων ποιητήν. Τιμοκρέων δὲ ὁ Ῥόδιος μελοποιὸς τοιοῦτον ἔγραψε σκόλιον κατὰ τοῦ Πλούτου, οὗ ἡ ἀρχή·

ὤφελέν σ᾿ ὦ τυφλὲ Πλοῦτε
μήτε γῇ μήτ᾿ ἐν θαλάσσῃ
μήτ᾿ ἐν ἠπείρῳ φανῆμεν,
ἀλλὰ Τάρταρόν τε ναίειν
κ᾿ Αχέροντα· διὰ σὲ γὰρ πάντ᾿
αἰὲν ἀνθρώποις κακά.

Mihály Zichy, “Drinking Song” 1874

Legislation, For Drunks

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Aristophanes, Acharnians 532-534

“[Perikles] used to make laws written like drinking songs:
That the Megarians were not to stay in the market
Nor the sea nor the beach in between”

ἐτίθει νόμους ὥσπερ σκόλια γεγραμμένους,
ὡς χρὴ Μεγαρέας μήτε γῇ μήτ’ ἐν ἀγορᾷ
μήτ’ ἐν θαλάττῃ μήτ’ ἐν ἠπείρῳ μένειν.

Schol. Ar. Ach. 532 

“[Perikles] used to make laws written like drinking songs”:

Timokreon of Rhodes, the lyric poet, wrote a drinking song like this against Wealth, which begins:

“Blind Wealth, I wish you had shown yourself
Neither on land nor on sea
Nor the beach in between.

You should have stayed underneath
living in Hell—thanks to you
all these evils for humans never cease.”

ἐτίθει νόμους· μιμούμενος τὸν τῶν σκολίων ποιητήν. Τιμοκρέων δὲ ὁ Ῥόδιος μελοποιὸς τοιοῦτον ἔγραψε σκόλιον κατὰ τοῦ Πλούτου, οὗ ἡ ἀρχή·

ὤφελέν σ᾿ ὦ τυφλὲ Πλοῦτε
μήτε γῇ μήτ᾿ ἐν θαλάσσῃ
μήτ᾿ ἐν ἠπείρῳ φανῆμεν,
ἀλλὰ Τάρταρόν τε ναίειν
κ᾿ Αχέροντα· διὰ σὲ γὰρ πάντ᾿
αἰὲν ἀνθρώποις κακά.

Mihály Zichy, “Drinking Song” 1874

The Glory and Story of the Rose

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Anacreonta 55

“Along with garland bearing spring
I plan to sing clearly
Of her gentle companion, the rose.

This is the immortals’ breath,
This is delight for mortals,
And the Graces’ pride in all seasons,
The lovely plaything
Of blossoming Loves.

This is a theme for myths,
This charming shoot of the Muses,
Sweet to find when one is making
Their way along prickly paths;
Sweet to take in turn, to warm
In gentle hands, pressing
This light flower of Love.

Could we ever be without
The rose at the tables
And feasts of Dionysus?

Dawn is called rosy-toed,
The Nymphs are rosy-armed,
Aphrodite is tinted-rose
When named by people who know.

This pleasure is the same for the ignorant;
This is helpful to the sick too;
This helps protect the dead and
This even fights against time:
For the old age of roses
Retains the charming scent of something new

Come, let’s talk of its creation:
When from the murky sea
The water was giving birth to
Aphrodite dampened with foam,
And Zeus was displaying on his brow
War-loving Athena
A terror for Olympus to see,
The earth let flower
A new surprising growth of roses,
An intricate creation.

She made the rose to be
Like the blessed gods themselves–
Then Luaios watered it with nektar,
Joining it to the haughty thorn,
a life to last forever.

στεφανηφόρου μετ᾿ ἦρος
μέλομαι ῥόδον τέρεινον
συνέταιρον ὀξὺ μέλπειν.
τόδε γὰρ θεῶν ἄημα,
τόδε καὶ βροτοῖσι χάρμα,
Χάρισίν τ᾿ ἄγαλμ᾿ ἐν ὥραις,
πολυανθέων Ἐρώτων
ἀφροδίσιόν τ᾿ ἄθυρμα·

τόδε καὶ μέλημα μύθοις
χαρίεν φυτόν τε Μουσῶν·
γλυκὺ καὶ ποιοῦντι πεῖραν
ἐν ἀκανθίναις ἀταρποῖς,
γλυκὺ δ᾿ αὖ λαβόντι, θάλπειν
μαλακαῖσι χερσί, κοῦφον
προσάγοντ᾿ Ἔρωτος ἄνθος.

θαλίαις τί κἀν τραπέζαις
Διονυσίαις τ᾿ ἑορταῖς
δίχα τοῦ ῥόδου γένοιτ᾿ ἄν;

ῥοδοδάκτυλος μὲν Ἠώς,
ῥοδοπήχεες δὲ Νύμφαι,
ῥοδόχρους δὲ κἀφροδίτα
παρὰ τῶν σοφῶν καλεῖται.

ἀσόφῳ τόδ᾿ αὐτὸ τερπνόν·
τόδε καὶ νοσοῦσιν ἀρκεῖ,
τόδε καὶ νεκροῖς ἀμύνει,
τόδε καὶ χρόνον βιᾶται·
χαρίεν ῥόδων δὲ γῆρας
νεότητος ἔσχεν ὀδμήν.

φέρε δὴ φύσιν λέγωμεν·
χαροπῆς ὅτ᾿ ἐκ θαλάττης
δεδροσωμένην Κυθήρην
ἐλόχευε πόντος ἀφρῷ
πολεμόκλονόν τ᾿ Ἀθήνην
κορυφῆς ἔδειξεν ὁ Ζεύς,
φοβερὰν θέαν Ὀλύμπῳ,
τότε καὶ ῥόδων ἀγητὸν
νέον ἔρνος ἤνθισε χθών,
πολυδαίδαλον λόχευμα·

μακάρων θεῶν δ᾿ ὅμοιον
ῥόδον ὡς γένοιτο, νέκταρ
ἐπιτέγξας ἀνέθηλεν
ἀγέρωχον ἐξ ἀκάνθης
φυτὸν ἄμβροτον Λυαῖος.

Impressionistic oil painting of pink roses
Pierre August Renoir, “Roses” 1910

Get Sh*T Ready and Drink

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songs and thoughts well-fit to birthdays

Anacreonta 48

“When Bacchus visits,
My worries slumber:
I dream I have Elon-wealth.

I want to sing prettily,.
But I’m stretched out with an ivy crown,
And I mock everything in my heart.

Get shit ready and let me drink.
Bring me a cup, son:
It is far better for me to lie here
Drunk instead of dead.”

ὅταν ὁ Βάκχος ἔλθῃ,
εὕδουσιν αἱ μέριμναι,
δοκῶ δ᾿ ἔχειν τὰ Κροίσου.
θέλω καλῶς ἀείδειν,
κισσοστεφὴς δὲ κεῖμαι,
πατῶ δ᾿ ἅπαντα θυμῷ.

ὅπλιζ᾿, ἐγὼ δὲ πίνω.

φέρε μοι κύπελλον, ὦ παῖ·
μεθύοντα γάρ με κεῖσθαι
πολὺ κρεῖσσον ἢ θανόντα.

Anacreonta 52a

“Why do you teach me laws
And rhetoricians’ customs?
What’s the use of so many speeches
That bring no help at all?

Teach me instead
To drink Dionysus’ subtle draught.
Teach me instead
To play with golden Aphrodite.”

τί με τοὺς νόμους διδάσκεις
καὶ ῥητόρων ἀνάγκας;
τί δέ μοι λόγων τοσούτων
τῶν μηδὲν ὠφελούντων;

μᾶλλον δίδασκε πίνειν
ἁπαλὸν πῶμα Λυαίου,
μᾶλλον δίδασκε παίζειν
μετὰ χρυσῆς Ἀφροδίτης.

Anacreonta 52b

“The hair is gray on my head.
Boy, give me water, add some wine
Make my heart numb.
Soon you will cover me, no longer alive.
You want nothing when you’re dead.”

πολιαὶ στέφουσι κάραν·
δὸς ὕδωρ, βάλ᾿ οἶνον, ὦ παῖ·
τὴν ψυχήν μου κάρωσον.
βραχὺ μὴ ζῶντα καλύπτεις.
ὁ θανὼν οὐκ ἐπιθυμεῖ.

a group of revelers from the 17th century, men and women drinking. There is a dog in the front listening to a bow play the violin
Jan Steen, “A Merry Party” 1660

Play, Laugh, Dance. Die.

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Anacreonta 40

“Since I was made to journey
A mortal down life’s road
I can see how much time has passed
But not how much is left to go.

My worried thoughts, that’s enough–
Let’s have no business between us.

Before I meet my end,
I’m going to play, laugh and dance
With Luiaos, my pretty friend.”

ἐπειδὴ βροτὸς ἐτεύχθην
βιότου τρίβον ὁδεύειν,
χρόνον ἔγνων ὃν παρῆλθον,
ὃν δ᾿ ἔχω δραμεῖν οὐκ οἶδα.
† μέθετέ με, φροντίδες· †
μηδέν μοι χὔμιν ἔστω.
πρὶν ἐμὲ φθάσῃ τὸ τέλος,
παίξω, γελάσω, χορεύσω
μετὰ τοῦ καλοῦ Λυαίου.

oil painting, somewhat impressionistic. Figures in foreground working on road
Karoly Patko, “Road Construction” 1928

Before I Join The Dance of the Dead

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Anacreonta 32

“I want to lay out a seat
Of soft myrtle shoots
And lotus flowers to give a toast,
Once love binds his tunic
Right below his neck with papyrus
Have him pour me some wine.

Life races by, turning
like the wheel of a chariot.
Soon we will be stretched out,
dust from crumbling bones.
Why should you perfume a stone?
Why pour wine pointlessly on the earth?

Anoint me while I live instead.
Crown my head with roses.
Call my girlfriend to come..

Love, before I leave here
For the underworld dance,
I want to scatter my worries away.”

ἐπὶ μυρσίναις τερείναις
ἐπὶ λωτίναις τε ποίαις
στορέσας θέλω προπίνειν.
ὁ δ᾿ Ἔρως χιτῶνα δήσας
ὑπὲρ αὐχένος παπύρῳ
μέθυ μοι διακονείτω·

τροχὸς ἅρματος γὰρ οἷα
βίοτος τρέχει κυλισθείς,
ὀλίγη δὲ κεισόμεσθα
κόνις ὀστέων λυθέντων.

τί σε δεῖ λίθον μυρίζειν;
τί δὲ γῇ χέειν μάταια;
ἐμὲ μᾶλλον, ὡς ἔτι ζῶ,
μύρισον, ῥόδοις δὲ κρᾶτα
πύκασον, κάλει δ᾿ ἑταίρην·

πρίν, Ἔρως, ἐκεῖ μ᾿ ἀπελθεῖν
ὑπὸ νερτέρων χορείας,
σκεδάσαι θέλω μερίμνας.

Spreuerbrucke Panel 1, The Dance of Dead. between 1626 and 1635