Monday, September 27, 2021


The Age of Wisdom

Greek Anthology 5.112 (by Philodemus; tr. David Sider):
I fell in love. Who hasn't? I reveled. Who is not an initiate of revels? But whose fault is it I went mad? A god's, isn't it?
Let it go, for already grey hair rushes in to take the place of black—grey hair the proclaimer of the age of wisdom.
And when it was right to play we played; and since it is right no longer, we shall lay hold of loftier thoughts.

ἠράσθην. τίς δ᾽ οὐχί; κεκώμακα. τίς δ᾽ ἀμύητος
    κώμων; ἀλλ᾽ ἐμάνην ἐκ τίνος; οὐχὶ θεοῦ;
ἐρρίφθω, πολιὴ γὰρ ἐπείγεται ἀντὶ μελαίνης
    θρὶξ ἤδη, συνετῆς ἄγγελος ἡλικίης.
καὶ παίζειν ὅτε καιρός, ἐπαίξαμεν· ἡνίκα καὶ νῦν        5
    οὐκέτι, λωϊτέρης φροντίδος ἁψόμεθα.
I noticed a misprint in the Greek for this poem in David Sider, ed., The Epigrams of Philodemos: Introduction, Text, and Commentary (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), p. 78 (page scan):
For τί in the first line read τίς.


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