Turn Me into a Lyre: Three More Songs for Drinking

Carm. Conv. 17

“I wish I could turn into an ivory lyre
And that beautiful children would carry me to the Dionysian dance.”

εἴθε λύρα καλὴ γενοίμην ἐλεφαντίνη
καί με καλοὶ παῖδες φέροιεν Διονύσιον ἐς χορόν.

Carm. Conv. 6

“What kind of man each person is
I wish I could know by opening his chest and then
Looking at his mind and after closing it again
To recognize a dear friend by his guileless thought”

εἴθ’ ἐξῆν ὁποῖός τις ἦν ἕκαστος
τὸ στῆθος διελόντ’, ἔπειτα τὸν νοῦν
ἐσιδόντα, κλείσαντα πάλιν,
ἄνδρα φίλον νομίζειν ἀδόλωι φρενί.

Anonymous Lyrics (Plutarch, Table Talk 1)

“I hate the drinking buddy who doesn’t forget.”

μισέω μνάμονα συμπόταν

Homer, Odyssey 16.147-149

“It is rather painful–but let’s let it be, even though it hurts us.
For, if it were at all possible for men to choose all things,
the first thing we would choose is the homecoming day of our father”

 
ἄλγιον, ἀλλ’ ἔμπης μιν ἐάσομεν, ἀχνύμενοί περ.
εἰ γὰρ πως εἴη αὐτάγρετα πάντα βροτοῖσι,
πρῶτόν κεν τοῦ πατρὸς ἑλοίμεθα νόστιμον ἦμαρ

 

Thus Telemachus says to the swineherd in front of his father in disguise.

 

 

Homer, Odyssey 8.408-9: A Phaiakian Apology

 

“If something terrible is said, may the winds seize it and carry it away.”

 

… ἔπος δ’ εἴ περ τι βέβακται

δεινόν, ἄφαρ τὸ φέροιεν ἀναρπάξασαι ἄελλαι.

 

I am sure that many of us, like prince Euryalus, have often wished much the same.