§ 1.1  Epinicians
Ode 1: For Argeius of Ceos Boys' Boxing Match (?) at the Isthmus Date unknown.
Daughters of Zeus ruling on high, famed for the lyre, ... Pierian Muses ... weave [5] ... Isthmian land ... son-in-law of wise Nereus ... ... of the island [10] ... god-built gates of Pelops' shining island [15] ... ... yoked horses to chariots,

§ 1.20  and they flew ... [45] ... thick ... maidens ... of sleep, like honey to the mind ... our ... ancient city ... [homes] on the shores of the sea ... [55] [and under] the rays of the sun ... ... and Makelo, loving the distaff, [75] ... by the fair-flowing stream ... speaks ... fawning with the voice ... ... I am bereaved ... with double-edged grief ...

§ 1.80  deprivation ... totally ... ... on the third day warlike Minos came with a host of Cretans [115] in fifty ships with flashing sterns. And by the will of Zeus Eukleios he subdued the deep-waisted maiden Dexithea, and left with her half of his people,

§ 1.120  battle-loving men, to whom he gave the craggy land as their share; and then he sailed off to the lovely city of Knossos, the king, the son of Europa. And in the tenth month the bride with beautiful hair bore [125] Euxantius, to be ruler over the glorious island ... ... daughters ... ... city cut deep by the sun's rays.

§ 1.140  From his (Euxantius'?) family descended Argeius, who has a strong hand and the spirit of a lion, whenever the need for battle befalls him; and he is [145] light on his feet, and does not ... the fine qualities of his father, those which Apollo, famed for the bow, bestowed on Pantheides: the art of healing,

§ 1.150  and friendly honor towards guests. With a good share of the Graces, and admired by many men, when he ended his life he left behind five greatly-praised sons, [155] one of whom the son of Cronus seated on high has made a victor at the Isthmus, in return for good deeds, and has given a share of other shining garlands. I say it now and I always will: excellence has the greatest glory.

§ 1.160  Wealth keeps company with worthless men as well, and it tends to swell a man's thoughts; but he who does well to the gods cheers his heart with a more glorious hope. [165] If a mortal has been granted health and can live off his own goods, he rivals the most fortunate. There is joy in all human life as long as it lacks disease and helpless deprivation. The rich man desires great things the same way the poor man desires less. [175] But it is not sweet for mortals to get everything easily; they always seek to catch what flees from them. A man whose spirit is whirled about by the lightest ambitions has honor only as long as he lives. Excellence is a difficult struggle, but when the struggle is completed rightly it leaves a man, even when he dies, the enviable ornament of renown.

§ 2.1  Ode 2: For Argeius of Ceos Boys' Boxing Match (?) at the Isthmus Date unknown.
Fame, whose gifts are revered, speed to holy Ceos bringing the gracious message: [5] that Argeius won the victory in the battle of bold hands, and brought to mind the fine deeds which we, from the holy island of Euxantius, have shown at the famous neck of the Isthmus, [10] winning seventy garlands. the native Muse summons the sweet clang of flutes, honoring the dear son of Pantheides with victory songs.

§ 3.1  Ode 3: For Hieron of Syracuse Chariot-Race at Olympia 468 B. C.
Clio, giver of sweet gifts, sing the praises of the mistress of most fertile Sicily, Demeter, and of her violet-garlanded daughter, and of Hieron's swift horses, racers at Olympia; [5] for they sped with majestic Victory and with Aglaia by the wide-whirling Alpheus, where they made the son of Deinomenes a prosperous man, a victor winning garlands. And the ... people shouted, [10] "Ah! thrice-blessed man! Zeus has granted him the honor of ruling most widely over the Greeks, and he knows not to hide his towered wealth under black-cloaked darkness." [15] The temples teem with cattle-sacrificing festivities; the streets teem with hospitality. Gold flashes and glitters, the gold of tall ornate tripods standing before the temple, where the Delphians administer the great precinct

§ 3.20  of Phoebus beside the Castalian stream. A man should honor the god, for that is the greatest prosperity. For indeed, once the ruler of horse-taming Lydia, [25] Croesus — when Zeus was bringing about the decreed fate, and Sardis was being sacked by the Persian army — Croesus was protected by the god of the golden lyre, Apollo. When he had come to that unexpected day, [30] Croesus had no intention of waiting any longer for the tears of slavery. He had a pyre built before his bronze-walled courtyard, and he mounted the pyre with his dear wife and his daughters with beautiful hair; [35] they were weeping inconsolably. He raised his arms to the steep sky and shouted, "overweening deity, where is the gratitude of the gods? Where is lord Apollo?

§ 3.40  The palace of Alyattes falls into ruins ... countless ... ... city ... the Pactolus whirling with [gold runs red with blood], [45] women are brutally led out of the well-built halls. What was hated is loved. To die is sweetest." So he spoke, and he bid the slave with the delicate step to kindle the wooden structure. His daughters cried out, and threw their arms out towards their mother; for death is most hateful to mortals when it is right before their eyes. But when the flashing force of terrible fire began to shoot through the wood, [55] Zeus set a dark rain-cloud over it, and began to quench the golden flame. Nothing is unbelievable which is brought about by the gods' ambition. Then Apollo, born on Delos, brought the old man to live among the Hyperboreans,

§ 3.60  along with his slender-ankled daughters, because of his piety, since of all mortals he sent the greatest gifts to holy Pytho. And of all mortal men who live in Greece, not one, O greatly-praised Hieron, will be willing [65] to say that he has sent more gold than you to Loxias. Every man who does not fatten himself with envy may praise a ... warlike man, a lover of horses, [70] who has the scepter of ... Zeus, and a share of the violet-haired Muses. ... once ... ephemeral ... you consider; [life is] brief. [75] But winged hope loosens the wits of ephemeral creatures. Lord Apollo ... said to the son of Pheres: "Being a mortal, you must cultivate twin thoughts: that tomorrow will be the last day you see

§ 3.80  the sun's light, and that you will complete another fifty years of life deep in wealth. Cheer your spirit with pious deeds, for this is the highest of profits." [85] To the thoughtful, what I sing is intelligible. The deep air is undefiled. The water of the sea does not decay. Gold is a delight. It is not lawful for a man to bypass gray old age, and recover flourishing youth. [90] And yet the gleam of a mortal's excellence does not diminish along with the body — no, the Muse nurtures it. Hieron, you have displayed to mortals the most beautiful flowers of prosperity. [95] Silence is no ornament for a successful man. With remembrance of fine deeds a man will also sing the gracious recompense made by the honey-voiced Cean nightingale.

§ 4.1  Ode 4: For Hieron of Syracuse Chariot Race at Delphi 470 B. C.
Golden-haired Apollo still loves the state of Syracuse and honors Hieron, the city's lawful ruler. For his praises are sung as a Pythian victor for a third time beside the navel of the high-ridged land, [5] through the excellence of his swift-footed horses. Ourania's sweet-voiced cockerel, ruler of the lyre ... but with willing mind ... [10] showered with hymns. And yet a fourth time we would be honoring the son of Deinomenes if some ... held the scales of Justice ... [15] he can be crowned with garlands, as the only man on earth who has accomplished this in the vale of Cirrha by the sea; and he has two Olympian victories to sing of as well. What is better than to be loved by the gods and to be granted a share of every kind of noble deed?

§ 5.1  Ode 5: For Hieron of Syracuse Single-horse victory at Olympia 476 B. C.
Fortunate in your fate, commander of the Syracusans, riders of whirling horses: you, [5] if any man on earth today, will rightly understand this honor, sweet gift of the violet-garlanded Muses. Now, calm your righteous mind; rest it from cares, and consider: a hymn, woven with the help of the deep-waisted Graces, [10] is sent from the holy island to your glorious city by your guest-friend, the brilliant servant of Ourania with her golden headband. He wants [15] to pour forth his voice from his heart to praise Hieron. High above, slicing the deep air with his swift golden wings, the eagle, messenger of loud-thundering, wide-ruling

§ 5.20  Zeus, trusts boldly in his powerful strength, and thin-voiced birds crouch in fear. The peaks of the great earth do not restrain him, [25] nor the rough, choppy waves of the untiring sea. In the everlasting void he shifts his delicate wings, riding the gusts of the west wind, [30] a conspicuous sight for men. So now for me there are countless paths of song leading in every direction, thanks to dark-haired Nike and Ares with his bronze breastplate, to sing of your excellence, [35] noble sons of Deinomenes. May the god not tire of doing good. Beside the wide-whirling Alpheus, golden-armed Dawn saw the victory of the chestnut horse Pherenicus, a runner swift as a wind-storm,

§ 5.40  and she saw him win in very holy Pytho. Laying my hand on the earth, I make this declaration: never in any contest has he been fouled by the dust of faster horses [45] as he strained toward the finish-line. In force he is like Boreas; obeying his rider, he speeds a new victory and new applause to hospitable Hieron.

§ 5.50  Prosperous is he to whom a god has given a share of fine things, and a rich life to live out with enviable luck. For no man on earth [55] was born to be fortunate in everything. So it was, they say, that the gate-destroying unconquerable son of Zeus of the flashing thunderbolt went down to the halls of slender-ankled Persephone to bring up into the light from Hades the razor-toothed dog, son of the fearsome Echidna. There he saw the souls of miserable mortals by the streams of Cocytus, [65] like leaves swirled by the wind along the sheep-pasturing headlands of shining Ida. Among them, the shade of Porthaon's bold, [70] spear-wielding descendant stood out. When the marvellous hero, son of Alcmene, saw him shining in his armor, he stretched the clear-sounding bowstring onto his bow, and opened the lid of his quiver and drew out a bronze-tipped [75] arrow. But the soul of Meleager appeared in front of him and spoke to him, knowing him well: "Son of great Zeus,

§ 5.80  stand where you are, and calm your spirit — Do not shoot a harsh arrow from your hands in vain against the souls of those who have perished. You have no need to fear." So he spoke. And the son of Amphitryon was astonished, [85] and said, "What god or mortal raised such a fine young plant as you? In what land? Who killed you? No doubt Hera with her beautiful belt will soon [90] send that killer after me. But that must be the concern of golden-haired Pallas." And Meleager answered him, in tears, "It is hard [95] for men on earth to sway the minds of the gods; for otherwise my father, horse-driving Oineus, would have appeased the anger of holy, white-armed Artemis with her garland of buds,

§ 5.100  when he entreated her with sacrifices of many goats and red-backed cattle. But the maiden goddess' anger was unconquerable; she sent an immensely violent [105] boar, a ruthless fighter, to Calydon, the place of lovely choruses; there, his strength raging like a flood, he cut down vine-rows with his tusk, and slaughtered flocks, and whatever mortals came across his path. We, the best of the Hellenes, fought hard to sustain the hateful battle against him, for six days continuously. But when some god gave the upper hand to the Aitolians, [115] we buried those whom the loud-roaring boar had killed in his violent attacks: Ancaeus, and Agelaus, the best of my dear brothers, whom

§ 5.120  Althaea bore in the far-famed halls of Oineus. Ruinous fate destroyed ... For not yet did the hostile goddess, the savage daughter of Leto, [stop] her anger. We fought hard for the beast's fiery hide [125] with the Couretes, steadfast in battle. Then I killed, among many others, Iphiclus and noble Aphares, my mother's swift brothers; for strong-spirited Ares does not discern a friend in battle — shafts fly blindly from the hands against the souls of the enemy, and bring death [135] to whomever the god wishes. My mother, the hostile daughter of Thestius, did not take this into account; she brought about my evil fate, the fearless woman, and planned my destruction.

§ 5.140  She took the log of my swift doom out of the ornate chest, and burned it. Fate had marked off that this should be the boundary of my life. I happened to be slaying [145] Clymenus, Daipylus' valiant son, whose body was flawless; I had overtaken him in front of the towers. The others were fleeing to the well-built ancient city of Pleuron. And my sweet soul diminished; I knew that my strength was gone, aiai! I breathed my last breath in tears, as I left behind splendid youth." [155] They say that was the only time that the son of Amphitryon, fearless in battle, ever wetted his eyes with tears, pitying the fate of the man who endured grief. And he answered him in this way:

§ 5.160  "For mortals it is best never to be born, never to look on the light of the sun. But there is no profit in lamenting this; one must speak of what can be accomplished. [165] Is there, in the halls of battle-loving Oineus, any daughter, unsubdued by love, whose appearance is like yours? I would gladly make her my splendid bride." And to him the soul of Meleager, steadfast in battle, answered: "I left behind at home Deianeira, with her neck like a fresh olive; golden [175] Cypris, charmer of mortals, is still unknown to her." White-armed Calliope, stop your well-made chariot right there. Sing of the Olympian ruler of the gods, Zeus son of Cronus,

§ 5.180  and the untiring stream of the Alpheus, and the strength of Pelops, and Pisa, where glorious Pherenicus won victory in the race with his feet, and returned to Syracuse with its fine towers, [185] bringing to Hieron the leaf of good fortune. For the sake of truth we must give praise, pushing away envy with both hands,

§ 5.190  if any mortal man does well. A Boeotian man, Hesiod, attendant of the sweet Muses, said this: "He whom the gods honor has a good name among men as well." [195] I am easily persuaded to send to Hieron my illustrious voice, not ... from the path ... .For in this way the roots of fine fortune flourish; may the great father Zeus guard them, undisturbed, in peace.

§ 6.1  Ode 6: For Lachon of Ceos [Boys'] Foot Race at Olympia 452 B. C.
Lachon has won from greatest Zeus the best glory with his feet by the streams of the Alpheus ... [the victories] through which before [5] Ceos rich in vines has been sung at Olympia as victorious in boxing and the foot race, by young men, luxuriant with garlands in their hair. [10] And now by the will of Victory, the hymn of Ourania, ruler of song, honors you, wind-footed son of Aristomenes, in songs before your house, [15] since by your triumph in the foot race you brought glory to Ceos.

§ 7.1  Ode 7: For Lachon of Ceos [Boys'] Foot Race at Olympia 452 B. C.
Shining daughter of Time and Night, the fifty [months have brought] you, sixteenth day of the month at Olympia ... by the will of ... [5] ... to judge the speed of swift feet and preeminence in strength of limbs among the Greeks. The one to whom you give the most distinguished honor of victory is called glorious [10] and much envied among men. You have adorned with garlands [the son] of Aristomenes, Lachon ...

§ 8.1  Ode 8: For Liparion of Ceos?
... singing the praises of sheep-sacrificing Pytho, and Nemea and the Isthmus. I will make my boast, laying my hand on the earth -

§ 8.20  every debt of praise shines in the light of truth — no Greek, boy or man, has won more victories in his age-group. [25] Zeus, whose spear is the thunderbolt, by the banks of the silver-whirling Alpheus may you also fulfill his prayers for great god-given glory, and place on his head a gray-green wreath [30] of Aitolian olive in the famous games of Phrygian Pelops.

§ 9.1  Ode 9: For Automedes of Phlious Pentathlon at Nemea Date unknown.
Graces with golden distaffs, give fame, which moves the minds of men; for the divinely inspired prophet of the violet-eyed Muses is ready to sing the praises of Phlious and [5] the flourishing plain of Nemean Zeus, where white-armed Hera reared the sheep-slaughtering, deep-voiced lion, the first of Heracles' far-famed labors. [10] There the heroes with red shields, the best of the Argives, held games for the first time in honor of Archemorus, whom a fiery-eyed monstrous dragon killed in his sleep: a sign of the slaughter to come. [15] Powerful fate! The son of Oicles could not persuade them to go back to the streets thronged with good men. Hope robs men [of their sense]: it was she who then sent Adrastus son of Talaus

§ 9.20  to Thebes ... to Polyneices ... The mortal men who crown their golden hair with the triennial garland from those glorious games in Nemea are illustrious; [25] and now a god has given it to the victorious Automedes, for he stood out among the pentathletes as the shining moon in the mid-month night sky outshines the light of the stars. [30] In such a way, amid the vast circling crowd of the Greeks, did he display his marvellous body, hurling the wheel-shaped discus, and raise a shout from the people as he flung the shaft of the dark-leaved elder-tree [35] from his hand into the steep sky. He executed the flashing movement of wrestling, and brought strong-limbed bodies down to the earth with such high-spirited strength, then returned to the dark-whirling waters of the Asopus,

§ 9.40  whose fame has reached every land, even the farthest reaches of the Nile. And the women skilled with the spear who live by the fair-flowing stream of Thermodon, daughters of horse-driving Ares, [45] have met with your descendants, much-envied lord of rivers, and so has Troy, the city of high gates. Countless reports of your offspring tread wide paths everywhere, of your daughters

§ 9.50  with shining belts, whom the gods established, with good fortune, as founders of cities that were never to be sacked. Who does not know the well-built city of dark-haired Thebes, [55] or renowned Aigina, who went to the bed of great Zeus and bore the hero ... who ... the land of the Achaeans ... trials ...

§ 9.60  ... with beautiful robe ... and Peirene with her twisted garland, and as many other [65] honorable daughters of the ancient resounding river who were overcome in the glorifying beds of gods. ... city ... victory ... the cries of flutes ... [70] ... to speak well of golden, violet-haired Cypris, the glorious mother of unbending passions for mortals [75] ... hymn ... ... even for one who is dead

§ 9.80  ... everlasting time, would always declare to later generations your victory at Nemea. A fine deed which attains genuine songs of praise is stored up on high with the gods. [85] With the true remembrance of men, the finest adornment of the [deep-waisted] Muses is left behind even [after death]. There are many ... of men; but the mind of the gods distinguishes [90] what is hidden in the darkness of night ... and the better ... [95] ... few men ... what will be. ... gave ... grace ... and Dionysus ... city honored by the gods ... to dwell ... golden-sceptered ... whoever takes a fine thing ... praise ... for the son of Timoxenos sing praises, with processions [of young men], for his victory in the pentathlon.

§ 10.1  Ode 10: For an Athenian Foot Race at the Isthmus Date unknown.
Fame, you visit the races [of men? ], and ... [5] ... eyes ... peaceful respite ... now for him his sister's husband [10] has moved the clear-voiced island bee so that the immortal ornament of the Muses will be at hand as a common joy for men, revealing your excellence to men on earth, [15] ... by the will of Victory you have crowned your golden head with blossoms and brought glory to broad Athens and fame to the Oineidae, when, in Poseidon's far-famed games,

§ 10.20  you displayed to the Greeks the swift surge of your feet. For when he reached the finish-line of the racecourse, breathing out a storm of hot breath, and again moistened the cloaks of the spectators with olive oil, rushing into the close-packed crowd [25] when he rounded the fourth turn of the course, the spokesmen of the wise judges proclaimed him twice an Isthmian victor, and twice in Nemea, beside the sacred altar of Zeus son of Cronus. [30] Glorious Thebes also welcomed him fittingly, and spacious Argos, and Sikyon, and those who dwell in Pellene, and in Euboea rich in grain, and on the holy [35] island Aigina. Each man seeks a different path on which to walk to attain conspicuous glory; and the forms of knowledge among men are countless. Indeed, a man is skillful if he has a share of honor from the Graces

§ 10.40  and blooms with golden hope, or if he has some knowledge of the prophetic art; another man aims his artful bow at boys; others swell their spirits with fields and herds of cattle. [45] The future begets unpredictable results: which way will fortune's scale incline? The finest thing is to be envied by many people as a noble man. I know also the great power of wealth,

§ 11.50  which makes even a useless man valuable. Why have I steered my song in its straight course so far off the road? Delight is appointed for mortals after victory ... of flutes ... [55] mix ... must ...

§ 11.1  Ode 11: For Alexidamus of Metapontion Boys' Wrestling at Delphi Date unknown.
Victory, giver of sweet gifts — to you alone the father ... seated on high ... in golden Olympus, [5] standing beside Zeus, you judge the achievement of excellence for immortals and mortals alike. Be gracious, daughter of Styx with her long hair, the upright judge. For your sake [10] even now Metapontion, the city honored by the gods, is filled with delight and with victory processions of young men with fine limbs. They sing the praises of the Pythian victor, the marvellous son of Phaiscus. [15] The Delos-born son of deep-waisted Leto received him with a propitious eye; and many garlands of flowers fell around Alexidamus on the plain of Cirrha

§ 11.20  because of his all-conquering powerful wrestling. The sun did not see him, on that particular day, falling to the ground. And I will declare that in the sacred precinct [25] of revered Pelops, beside the beautiful stream of the Alpheus, if someone had not turned aside the straight path of justice, the gray-green olive for which all compete would have crowned his head [30] as he returned to his fatherland, calf-nurturing Italy. [For down to the earth? ] he brought the young man, by his crafty wits, in the land of lovely choruses. But either a god was responsible, or else [35] the wandering judgment of men took the highest honor out of his hands. But now Artemis of the wilds [Agrotera] with her golden distaff, the Soother [Hemera], famous for the bow, gave him shining victory.

§ 11.40  To her once the son of Abas and his daughters with beautiful robes set up an altar where many prayers are offered. All-powerful Hera drove these daughters in fear from the lovely halls [45] of Proetus; she yoked their minds to a violent maddening compulsion. For, while still virgins, they entered the sanctuary of the purple-belted goddess,

§ 11.50  and said that their father far surpassed in wealth the golden-haired consort of holy, widely powerful Zeus. In anger at them, she put a twisted thought into their minds, [55] and they fled to the wooded mountain with terrible screams, leaving behind the city of Tiryns and its god-built streets. For it was now the tenth year since the heroes with their bronze shields, fearless in battle,

§ 11.60  had left Argos, the city loved by the gods, and lived in Tiryns with their much envied king, because an insurmountable quarrel [65] had arisen, from a slight beginning, between the brothers Proetus and Acrisius. They were destroying their people with lawless feuding and grievous battles, and the people entreated the sons of Abas [70] that, since they had as their share a land rich in barley, the younger one should be the founder of Tiryns, before they fell under ruinous compulsion. And Zeus son of Cronus, honoring the race of Danaus [75] and of horse-driving Lynceus, was willing to put an end to their hateful woes. And the mighty Cyclopes came, and toiled to build a most beautiful wall for the glorious city, where the godlike

§ 11.80  far-famed heroes lived when they had left behind horse-pasturing Argos. It was from Tiryns that the dark-haired unsubdued daughters of Proetus rushed in their flight. [85] And woe overcame Proetus' heart, and an alien thought smote him. He decided to plant a double-edged sword in his chest; but his spearmen restrained him [90] with calming words and with the force of their hands. For thirteen whole months his daughters roamed wildly through the shadowy forests and fled through sheep-nurturing Arcadia. [95] But when their father came to the beautiful stream of Lusus, he washed his skin with its water and called on Leto's daughter with her crimson headdress, the ox-eyed goddess,

§ 11.100  stretching his hands to the rays of the steed-swift sun, and asked her to deliver his children from their deranged miserable madness. "I will sacrifice to you twenty [105] unyoked red oxen." And the huntress, whose father is the highest god, heard him praying. She persuaded Hera, and stopped the godless mania of the bud-garlanded girls.

§ 11.110  They built her a sanctuary and an altar right away, and stained it with the blood of sheep, and set up choruses of women. From there you accompanied battle-loving Achaean men to their horse-nurturing city; [115] and with good fortune you dwell in Metapontion, golden mistress of the people. And a lovely precinct beside the fine waters of the Casas

§ 11.120  their ancestors established? when at last, by the counsels of the blessed gods, they sacked the well-built city of Priam together with the Atreidae with their bronze breastplates. Whoever has a just mind will find, [125] throughout all time, countless deeds of valor done by the Achaeans.

§ 12.1  Ode 12: For Teisias of Aigina Wrestling at Nemea Date unknown.
Like a skillful helmsman, Clio, mistress of song, guide my thoughts now in a straight course, if you ever did before. For to the prosperous [5] island of Aigina queenly Victory commands me to go, to my hospitable friends, and adorn the god-built city and the strong-limbed wrestling at Nemea ... ... friend ... [35] in the competitions of the neighboring people. They were honored with celebrations for thirty splendid victories, some in [Pytho,] others in the neck of Pelops' holy island, full of pine,

§ 12.40  others in the precinct of Nemean Zeus, god of brilliant lightning flashes ... these ... and at the silver-whirling [Alpheus? ] ...

§ 13.1  Ode 13: For Pytheas of Aigina Pancratium at Nemea?483 B. C. [45] He shall stop them from arrogant violence, bringing about judgments of law for mortals: look how the descendant of Perseus brings his hand down heavily on the neck of the bloodthirsty lion with every type of skill! [45] For the gleaming, man-subduing bronze refuses to pierce the lion's fearsome body; the sword was bent back. Someday, I prophesy, [55] [in this place] there will be a strenuous toil for the Greeks, competing for garlands in the pancratium." ... beside the altar of Zeus, the greatest ruler, the blossoms of glory-bringing Victory

§ 13.60  nurture for men golden, conspicuous fame throughout their lives — for a select few — and when the dark cloud of death covers them, [65] the undying glory of their fine deed is left behind, secure in its destiny. You too have attained this at Nemea, son of Lampon; [70] your hair crowned with garlands of flourishing blossoms, [you walk] the lofty streets of the city [of Aeacus, so that] your ancestral island [teems] with gentle-voiced victory processions, in which mortals delight, [75] revealing your overweening strength in the pancratium. Kindly Aigina, daughter of the whirling river, [the son of Cronus]

§ 13.80  gave you great honor, shining [your new victory? ] like a torch among all Greeks. And a proud maiden [sings the praises of your strength? ] [85] ... often lightly springing with her feet like a carefree fawn on the flowery [hills] [90] with her far-famed [companions] who live nearby. The maidens wear garlands of crimson blossoms and rushes, the native decoration, and sing of your [child], [95] mistress of the all-hospitable [land], and of rosy-armed Endais, who bore [godlike Peleus] and the helmeted warrior Telamon, having gone to bed with Aeacus.

§ 13.100  Of their battle-rousing sons I shall sing, and of swift Achilles, and the high-spirited son of beautiful Eriboea, Aias, the shield-bearing hero, [105] who stood on the stern of his ship and stopped bold-hearted, bronze [helmeted] Hector in his rush to burn the ships with dread fire,

§ 13.110  at the time when the son of Peleus stirred fierce wrath [in his breast] and released the [Dardanians from ruin]. Before they had not left the [many-towered] [115] marvellous town of Ilium, but had cowered, dazed by fear, before the fierce battle, when Achilles raged destructively across the plain,

§ 13.120  shaking his murderous spear. But when the fearless son of the violet-garlanded Nereid withdrew from battle, — as when the North wind, on the dark-blossoming sea, [125] afflicts the spirits of men beneath the waves, when it comes upon them as night begins, but it withdraws with the break of Dawn, who shines on mortals, and a gentle breeze smooths the sea;

§ 13.130  they billow their sail with the breath of the South wind, and eagerly reach unhoped-for dry land — in such a way, when the Trojans heard that the spearman Achilles [135] was remaining in his tent because of the golden-haired woman Briseis with lovely limbs, they raised their arms to the gods, seeing a bright

§ 13.140  gleam from out of the storm. With all speed they left the walls of Laomedon and rushed onto the plain, bringing violent battle, [145] and roused terror in the Danaan. Ares, god of the spear, urged them on, and Loxias Apollo, lord of the Lycians. And they came to the shore of the sea,

§ 13.150  and fought beside the ships with their fine sterns, and the dark earth ran red with the blood of men slain by the hand of Hector, [155] ... heroes ... through the onslaught of godlike ... ... with great hopes, and arrogant shouts,

§ 13.160  the Trojan horsemen ... the dark-eyed ships ... the god-built city would have ... and feasts, in ... But before that could be they were doomed after all [165] to redden with blood the whirling Scamander, dying at the hands of the tower-destroying [Aeacidae.] Of these, if ... or on a [pyre] piled high with wood ... [175] for all-shining Excellence is not hidden and effaced in the lightless [veil? ] of night, but always abounding in unfailing glory

§ 13.180  she roams the earth and the shifting seas. And truly she honors the fame-bringing [island] of Aeacus; she guides the state with garland-loving Eucleia [185] and sound-minded Eunomia, to whom festivities belong, and who guards the cities of pious men in peace.

§ 13.190  Sing, young men, of the very glorious victory of Pytheas, and the helpful care of Menander, which often by the streams of the Alpheus has been honored by [195] holy, great-spirited Athena of the golden chariot; before now she has garlanded the hair of countless men with crowns in the panhellenic contests. Let every man

§ 13.200  who is not bullied by bold-tongued envy praise the man who is skillful, as is just. All works of mortals are open to fault-finding. But truth tends

§ 13.205  to win the victory, and all-subduing time always [preserves] a fine deed. The [vain speech] of enemies diminishes, unseen ... ...

§ 13.220  warms the spirit with hope. With such hope I too, trusting in the [Muses] with their crimson headdresses, present a [crown] of songs, [of newly-combed wool], and honor the splendor-loving hospitality which [you], Lampon, [have provided] for me; may you not regard [my gift for your son] as slight. And if it truly is flourishing Clio who has distilled this gift in my [mind], songs filled with words of delight will proclaim him to all the people.

§ 14.1  Ode 14: For Cleoptolemus of Thessaly Chariot-Race at the Petraia Date unknown:
To have a good allotment from the gods is the best thing for men. Fortune can destroy even a noble man, if she comes as a grievous burden, [5] and can make a worthless man shine on high, if she works out well. Different people have different honors. There are countless forms of excellence among men, but one stands out among all of them: [10] when a man has conducted whatever lies at hand with a just mind. The voice of the lyre and clear-sounding choruses do not harmonize with the deep griefs of battle, [15] nor does the clang of clashing bronze with festivities. For every work of men [appropriateness] is the finest thing. When someone does well, a god [advances? ] him too. In gratitude to Cleoptolemus, ...

§ 14.20  ...we must now sing of the precinct of Poseidon Petraios, and of the glorious son of Pyrrichus, victorious with his horses, who ... of hospitable and just ...

§ 14b.1  Ode 14b/16: For Aristoteles of Larisa:
Golden-throned Hestia, you who increase the great prosperity of the rich Agathocleadae, seated in the midst of city streets [5] near the fragrant river Peneius in the valleys of sheep-nurturing Thessaly. From there Aristoteles came to flourishing Cirrha, and was twice crowned, [10] for the glory of horse-mastering Larisa ...