Laudator Temporis Acti

Andrew Lang (1844-1912), Triolets after Moschus:

Αἰαῖ ταὶ μαλάχαι μέν, ἐπὰν κατὰ κᾶπον ὄλωνται,
ὕστερον αὖ ζώοντι καὶ εἰς ἔτος ἄλλο φύοντι
ἄμμες δ᾽ οἱ μεγάλοι καὶ καρτεροί οἱ σοφοὶ ἄνδρες
ὁππότε πρᾶτα θάνωμες ἀνάκοοι ἐν χθονὶ κοίλᾳ
εὕδομες εὖ μάλα μακρὸν ἀτέρμονα νήγρετον ὕπνον.

Alas, for us no second spring,
      Like mallows in the garden-bed,
For these the grave has lost his sting,
    Alas, for us no second spring,
    Who sleep without awakening,
And, dead, for ever more are dead,
    Alas, for us no second spring,
      Like mallows in the garden-bed!

Alas, the strong, the wise, the brave
    That boast themselves the sons of men!
Once they go down into the grave—
    Alas, the strong, the wise, the brave,—
    They perish and have none to save,
    They are sown, and are not raised again;
Alas, the strong, the wise, the brave,
    That boast themselves the sons of men!

Related post: Death.