Passionate love relentlessly twists a chord under my heart and spreads deep mist on my eyes, stealing the unguarded brains from my head. - Archilochus of Paros

As the figtree on its rock feeds many crows,
so this simple girl sleeps with strangers.

Let brawling waves beat his ship
against the shore, and have the mop-haired Thracians
take him naked at Salmydessos,
and he will suffer a thousand calamities
as he chews the bread of slaves.
His body will stiffen in freezing surf
as he wrestles with slimy seaweed,
and his teeth will rattle like a helpless dog,
flopped on his belly in the surge,
puking out the brine. Let me watch him grovel
in mud — for the wrong he did me:
as a traitor he trampled on our good faith,
he who was once my comrade.

These golden matters
Of Gyges and his treasuries
Are no concern of mine.
Jealousy has no power over me,
Nor do I envy a god his work,
And I do not burn to rule.
Such things have no
Fascination for my eyes.