Laudator Temporis Acti

Ovid, Amores 1.5.18-27 (tr. L.P. Wilkinson):

So there she stood all naked to my gaze.
In all her body not one fault there was.
What shoulders and what arms I saw, I held,
What dainty nipples, asking to be felt,
Beneath the shapely breast what belly smooth,
Hips large and beautiful, the thighs of youth!
Why single out? No part but stood the test.
Her naked to my naked form I pressed.
All know the sequel. We relaxed in swoon.
O, oft may Fortune grant me such a noon!

ut stetit ante oculos posito velamine nostros,
    in toto nusquam corpore menda fuit:
quos umeros, quales vidi tetigique lacertos!        20
    forma papillarum quam fuit apta premi!
quam castigato planus sub pectore venter!
    quantum et quale latus! quam iuvenale femur!
singula quid referam? nil non laudabile vidi,
    et nudam pressi corpus ad usque meum.        25
cetera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo.
    proveniant medii sic mihi saepe dies.

C.S. Lewis, letter to his father (December 4,1915):

There is also a 'Greek Literature' by Gilbert Murray, the bad verse-translator, which I have read with dire anger, as he degrades Homer from a poet into a 'question' and prefers that snivelling metaphysician Euripides to Aeschylus.

Psalms 21.22:

salva me ex ore Leonis.

1 Peter 5.8:

adversarius vester diabolus tamquam Leo rugiens circuit, quaerens quem devoret.

Thanks to Eric Thomson for the image.

C.S. Lewis (1898-1963), Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life (New York: Harcourt, Brace & World, Inc., 1956), p. 144:

Kirk did not, of course, make me read nothing but Homer. The Two Great Bores (Demosthenes and Cicero) could not be avoided. There were (oh glory!) Lucretius, Catullus, Tacitus, Herodotus. There was Virgil, for whom I still had no true taste. There were Greek and Latin compositions. (It is a strange thing that I have contrived to reach my late fifties without ever reading one word of Caesar.) There were Euripides, Sophocles, Aeschylus.

Babrius 85 (tr. Laura Gibbs):

During the war of the dogs and the wolves, the dog-assembly chose an Achaean to be their commander. Although he was an expert in the art of war, the commander waited and delayed. With fierce threats, the dogs urged him to advance and to engage in battle but the commander explained, 'Here is the reason why I delay and act with caution! One must always make plans with an eye to the future. All of the enemy whom I have seen are wolves, members of the same breed, whereas some of us are dogs from Crete, some are Molossian hounds, some are Acarnanians, others are Dolopians, while others boast of being from Cyprus or Thrace. Still others come from other places — what need is there to go on at length? We are not even the same colour, as the wolves are: some of us are black, some are grey, some are red with white-spotted chests, and some of us are white all over. How can I lead troops who are so lacking in unity to fight against an enemy who all resemble each other in every possible way?'

Κυσίν ποτ' ἔχθρα καὶ λύκοις συνειστήκει.
κύων δ' Ἀχαιὸς ᾑρέθη κυνῶν δήμῳ
στρατηγὸς εἶναι. καὶ μάχης ἐπιστήμων
ἔμελλεν, ἐβράδυνεν. οἱ δ' ἐπηπείλουν,
εἰ μὴ προάξει, τὴν μάχην τ' ἐνεργήσει.        5
"ἀκούσατ'" εἶπεν "οὗ χάριν διατρίβω,
τί δ' εὐλαβοῦμαι· χρὴ δ' ἀεὶ προβουλεύειν.
τῶν μὲν πολεμίων τὸ γένος ὧν ὁρῶ πάντων
ἕν ἐστιν· ἡμῶν δ' ἦλθον οἱ μὲν ἐκ Κρήτης,
οἱ δ' ἐκ Μολοσσῶν εἰσιν, οἱ δ' Ἀκαρνάνων,        10
ἄλλοι δὲ Δόλοπες, οἱ δὲ Κύπρον ἢ Θρᾴκην
αὐχοῦσιν, ἄλλοι δ' ἄλλοθεν — τί μηκύνω;
τὸ χρῶμα δ' ἡμῖν οὐχ ἕν ἐστιν ὡς τούτοις,
ἀλλ' οἱ μὲν ἡμῶν μέλανες, οἱ δὲ τεφρώδεις,
ἔνιοι δὲ πυρροὶ καὶ διάργεμοι στήθη,        15
ἄλλοι δὲ λευκοί. πῶς ἂν οὖν δυνηθείην
εἰς πόλεμον ἄρχειν" εἶπε "τῶν ἀσυμφώνων
πρὸς τοὺς ὅμοια πάντ' ἔχοντας ἀλλήλοις;"

Related post: A Motley Crew.

C.S. Lewis, letter to his father (July 19? 1915):

However, this I suppose is part of the curse inherited from our first parents: my private opinion is that after the words 'In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou earn thy bread' [Genesis 3:19] another clause has dropped out from the original text, running 'In the exasperation of thy souls shalt thou attend social functions'.

Here is the end of book 2 (lines 430-434) of Homer's Odyssey in Daniel Mendelsohn's new translation (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2025), followed by the Greek:

Once they had bound fast the tackle on the swift-running, black-hulled ship
They set out two-handled jars that were filled to the brim with wine
And poured libations out to the deathless gods everlasting—
Above all to the daughter of Zeus, she of the bright owl-eyes.
All through the night and into the dawn the ship cut her way.

δησάμενοι δ᾽ ἄρα ὅπλα θοὴν ἀνὰ νῆα μέλαιναν
στήσαντο κρητῆρας ἐπιστεφέας οἴνοιο,
λεῖβον δ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖς αἰειγενέτῃσιν,
ἐκ πάντων δὲ μάλιστα Διὸς γλαυκώπιδι κούρῃ.
παννυχίη μέν ῥ᾽ ἥ γε καὶ ἠῶ πεῖρε κέλευθον.

As I construe the English in line 433, "she of the bright owl-eyes" is in apposition to "the daughter of Zeus" (i.e. Athena), and "the daughter of Zeus" is the object of the presposition "to". But "she of the bright owl-eyes" is a nominative phrase, and how, therefore, can it be the object of a preposition? That, to me, is the puzzle. Probably I'm just too obtuse to understand. After all, Mendelsohn's grasp of English and Greek is obviously superior to mine, and what looks to me like a grammatical error must have some explanation. I just can't see it.

Mimnermus, fragment 1, line 1 (tr. Douglas E. Gerber):

What life is there, what pleasure without golden Aphrodite?

τίς δὲ βίος, τί δὲ τερπνὸν ἄτερ χρυσέης Ἀφροδίτης;

Horace, Epistles 1.6.65-66 (tr. Colin Macleod):

If, as Mimnermus holds, without love and play
there's no enjoyment, live for love and play.

si, Mimnermus uti censet, sine amore iocisque
nil est iucundum, vivas in amore iocisque.