Archilochus of Paros Quotes

Her breasts and her dark hair were perfume
and even an old man would desire her.

Zeus, the father of the Olympic Gods, turned mid-day into night, hiding the light of the dazzling Sun; and sore fear came upon men.

Well, what if some barbaric Thracian glories
in the perfect shield I left under a bush?
I was sorry to leave it — but I saved my skin.
Does it matter? O hell, I'll buy a better one.

No man, Aisimides, who bows to the mud-slinging
mob has ever been capable of profound pleasures.

We don't rise to the level of our expectations, we fall to the level of our training.

: "Archilochos: To His Soul" : A fragment as translated from the Greek by Jon Corelis

Like the Mykonians, Perikles,
you drink our unmixed wine
and pay for nothing.
You broke into this party, uninvited,
and act as if among old friends.
Your stomach has tricked the brains in your skull
and now you are shameless.

Father Lykambes, what is this new silliness?
Are your natural brains wholly rotted?
The neighbors laugh openly at your absurd life
and you persist in chattering like a cricket.

A life of doing nothing is good for old men,
especially if they are simple in their ways,
or stupid, or inane in their endless blabber
as old men tend to be.

O my soul, my soul — you are mutilated helplessly
by this blade of sorrow. Yet rise and bare your chest,
face those who would attack you, be strong, give no ground.
If you defeat them, do not brag like a loudmouth,
If they beat you, don't run home and lie down to cry.
Keep some measure in your joy — or in your sadness during
crisis — that you may understand man's up-and-down life.

His penis is swollen
like a donkey from Priene
taking his fill of barley.

Soul, my soul, don't let them break you, all these troubles. Never yield: though their force is overwhelming, up! attack them shield to shield...

: Studies in Latin American Popular Culture, Vol. 20 (2001), p. 184

I have saved myself - what care I for that shield? Away with it! I'll get another one no worse.

: Fragment 67, as translated by R. Lattimore