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ANYTE OF TEGEA

Stranger, rest your weary legs beneath the elms;
hear how coolly the breeze murmurs through their branches;
then take a bracing draught from the mountain-fed fountain;
for this is welcome shade from the burning sun.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

Here I stand, Hermes, in the crossroads
by the windswept elms near the breezy beach,
providing rest to sunburned travelers,
and cold and brisk is my fountain’s abundance.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

Sit here, quietly shaded by the luxuriant foliage,
and drink cool water from the sprightly spring,
so that your weary breast, panting with summer’s labors,
may take rest from the blazing sun.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

This is the grove of Cypris,
for it is fair for her to look out over the land to the bright deep,
that she may make the sailors’ voyages happy
as the sea trembles, observing her brilliant image.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

For her grasshopper, the night-fiddler,
and her tiny oak-dwelling cicada,
little Myro built a funeral mound
then shed a maidenly tear,
for unpersuadable Hades had made off with her playmates!
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

Often lamenting at the tomb of her daughter,
Cleina, the mother, cried out for her dear dead child,
departed too soon.
Entreating the soul of understanding Philaenis,
who had crossed the pale Acheron unmarried.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

I mourn the maiden Antiba, for whom many men
came courting to her father’s house,
attracted by her beauty and wisdom,
but alas annihilating Fate hurled her beyond their reach.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

Forgoing a bedchamber and marriage’s warm rites,
your mother placed upon this cold albescent tomb
a maiden statue, having your form and likeness,
so that you, Thersis, can yet be remembered and saluted.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

You perished beside a deeply-rooted bush,
Locris, swiftest of the ebullient noisesome puppies,
as a speckle-necked snake injected its cruel poison
into your nimble limb.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

The young men buried you, their captain, Pheidias.
Dying, you doomed them to dark grief,
       like children for their mother.
And yet your headstone sings this beautiful song …
That you died fighting for your beloved country.
—Anyte translation by Michael R. Burch

Keywords/Tags: Anyte, Greek, Cypris, Hermes, grief, stranger, legs, elms, breeze, fountain, shade, sun, weary, water, spring, tomb
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