You ever had a friend that has turned out to be a dud ?
Then this poem by Archilochos found on a fragment of papyrus may be the perfect response - LOL
Liar by Archilochos
Swept overboard, unconscious in the breakers,
strangled with seaweed, may you wake up in a gelid
surf, your teeth, already cracked into the shingle,
now set rattling by the wind, while facedown,
helpless as a poisoned cur, on all fours you puke
brine reeking of dead fish. May those you meet,
barbarians as ugly as their souls are hateful,
treat you to the moldy wooden bread of slaves.
And may you, with your split teeth sunk in that,
smile, then, the way you did when speaking as my friend.
(Barrie, in case you are interested:
Dances for the Flute and Thunder
Praises, Prayers and Insults - poems from the Ancient Greek
translated by Brooks Haxton )
Liar - Archilochos
It reads like old Druid's curse, it's quite possible that he had some coaching. I remember reading that Hyperborean priests used to visit Tempe in Northern Greece. Another Greek historian (Hecataeus?) also said that in Hyperboria (Britain), Apollo was honoured above all other gods. I've read elsewhere of links between these British priests and the Orphic mysteries.
Thanks for the book title, Arco, I'll have a look on Amazon for that.
......... on all fours you puke
brine reeking of dead fish. - lovely.
cheers
Barrie
Hyperboria - beyond the North Wind
Thanks for the book title, Arco, I'll have a look on Amazon for that.
......... on all fours you puke
brine reeking of dead fish. - lovely.
cheers
Barrie
Hyperboria - beyond the North Wind
After letting go of branches and walking through the ape gait, we managed to grasp what hands were really for......
Your welcome Barrie
Thanks for scholarly notes, much appreciated !
I read this book of poems a few times, there is an intensity there as Praxilla would say:
"pierces and burns the heart".
The Greek spirit and wit is unmistakable. A superb and rare collection for readers/lovers of poetry it surely is.
and three more for the road ....
Songs And Dance by Philomedon
I was a fool, in love, in lust ... who knows?
Flinging myself at happiness, I thought ...
as who would not? Half crazy, drunk,
with a prayer of blundering somehow
into the sacred mystery. Now gray hair
grows more than black, and I believe
this age may suit intelligence. We did
that other dance till dawn, and now
we turn to a glimmering in the mind.
Invocation to the Bees by Zonas
Fetch into your singing hive the thyme
just shriveled under an early chill,
and scratch and nibble at the poppy crumb
and at the torn place in the raisin.
Also, from the soft spot on the peach,
and from the violet, bring back
your gleanings. Build your cells of wax.
And Pan, the god of bees and keeper
of the hive, will come in turn
and dip out of a drowsy smoke his hand
at honey gatherings, to take his part,
to taste, and leave a share for you.
Fable by Leonidas of Tarentum
A billygoat with a good beard, clambering
from among his wives over the stone wall
of a vineyard, nipped the sprays and branches
all the way to the under stock, which spoke up
out of the ground, as loud as any vinestock could,
"Eat, goat! Rip my tender parts! And soon
my deep-set root will send up growth again,
and nectar, fat enough inside the grape for wine
to pour on your thick head at sacrifice."
Thanks for scholarly notes, much appreciated !
I read this book of poems a few times, there is an intensity there as Praxilla would say:
"pierces and burns the heart".
The Greek spirit and wit is unmistakable. A superb and rare collection for readers/lovers of poetry it surely is.
and three more for the road ....
Songs And Dance by Philomedon
I was a fool, in love, in lust ... who knows?
Flinging myself at happiness, I thought ...
as who would not? Half crazy, drunk,
with a prayer of blundering somehow
into the sacred mystery. Now gray hair
grows more than black, and I believe
this age may suit intelligence. We did
that other dance till dawn, and now
we turn to a glimmering in the mind.
Invocation to the Bees by Zonas
Fetch into your singing hive the thyme
just shriveled under an early chill,
and scratch and nibble at the poppy crumb
and at the torn place in the raisin.
Also, from the soft spot on the peach,
and from the violet, bring back
your gleanings. Build your cells of wax.
And Pan, the god of bees and keeper
of the hive, will come in turn
and dip out of a drowsy smoke his hand
at honey gatherings, to take his part,
to taste, and leave a share for you.
Fable by Leonidas of Tarentum
A billygoat with a good beard, clambering
from among his wives over the stone wall
of a vineyard, nipped the sprays and branches
all the way to the under stock, which spoke up
out of the ground, as loud as any vinestock could,
"Eat, goat! Rip my tender parts! And soon
my deep-set root will send up growth again,
and nectar, fat enough inside the grape for wine
to pour on your thick head at sacrifice."
I've just ordered a second hand copy through Amazon - £3.88 including postage. There are more in there folks!
cheers Arco.
cheers Arco.
After letting go of branches and walking through the ape gait, we managed to grasp what hands were really for......
Hear hear. Good stuff, Arco.k-j wrote:Arco, these are great! You can't beat some Greek maledictions first thing on a drab Thursday morning. I especially love Leonidas's Fable. Thanks for posting.
Isn't it Archilochus of Paros? We were in Paros and Antiparos last August, and we saw a poster saying "Come and see our interesting cave!" So we did. And it was interesting.
Anyway, the connection to Archilochus is that his name is supposed to be inscribed in the cave. But possibly not by him. Didn't see it anyway, but fantastic to (apparently) come so close to something he had seen as well.
Cheers
David