Lucian, On Funerals
16 (prematurely dead young man, speaking to his grieving father; tr. A.M. Harmon):
What dreadful misfortune do you think I am undergoing? Is it that I did not get to be an old man like you, with your head bald, your face wrinkled, your back bent, and your knees trembling,—like you, who in short are rotten with age after filling out so many months and so many Olympiads, and who now, at the last, go out of your mind in the presence of so many witnesses?
ἢ τί σοι δεινὸν πάσχειν δοκῶ; ἢ διότι μὴ τοιουτοσὶ γέρων ἐγενόμην οἷος εἶ σύ, φαλακρὸς μὲν τὴν κεφαλήν, τὴν δὲ ὄψιν ἐρρυτιδωμένος, κυφὸς καὶ τὰ γόνατα νωθής, καὶ ὅλως ὑπὸ τοῦ χρόνου σαθρὸς πολλὰς τριακάδας καὶ ὀλυμπιάδας ἀναπλήσας, καὶ τὰ τελευταῖα δὴ ταῦτα παραπαίων ἐπὶ τοσούτων μαρτύρων;