Laudator Temporis Acti

Theognis 887-888 (tr. Douglas E. Gerber):

Don't strain your ear for the herald's loud shout;
it's not for our homeland that we are fighting.

μηδὲ λίην κήρυκος ἀν᾿ οὖς ἔχε μακρὰ βοῶντος·
    οὐ γὰρ πατρῴας γῆς πέρι μαρνάμεθα.

"The mercenary's voice," according to Martin L. West, Studies in Greek Elegy and Iambus (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1974), p. 11. Likewise p. 160:

From a sympotic song of a mercenary soldier, in the same devil-may-care tone as Archilochus' ἀσπίδι μὲν Σαΐων τις.

I.e. Archilochus, fragment 5 West (tr. Anne Pippin Burnett):

Some Thracian tribesman flaunts my shield. I left it
    blameless in a bush — betrayed it there unwillingly —
and yet I saved myself, so what's that shield to me?
    To hell with it, I'll buy another every bit as good.

ἀσπίδι μὲν Σαΐων τις ἀγάλλεται, ἣν παρὰ θάμνῳ,
    ἔντος ἀμώμητον, κάλλιπον οὐκ ἐθέλων·
αὐτὸν δ᾽ ἐξεσάωσα. τί μοι μέλει ἀσπὶς ἐκεινη;
    ἐρρέτω· ἐξαῦτις κτήσομαι οὐ κακίω.

Another translation of Archilochus, by William Marris:

A perfect shield bedecks some Thracian now;
    I had no choice: I left it in a wood.
Ah, well, I saved my skin, so let it go!
    A new one's just as good.