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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, … - Archilochus of Paros
" "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.
English
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About Archilochus of Paros
Archilochus [Ἀρχίλοχος] (c. 680 BC – c. 645 BC), also rendered as Archilochos or Arkhilokhus, was a Greek lyric poet and mercenary from the island of Paros in the Archaic period.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Native Name:
Ἀρχίλοχος
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If you irritate the wound, Perikles, no man
in our city will enjoy the festivities.
These men were washed under by the thudding seawaves,
and the hearts in our chest are swollen with pain.
Yet against this incurable misery, the gods
give us the harsh medicine of endurance.
Sorrows come and go, friend, and now they strike us
and we look with horror on the bleeding sores,
yet tomorrow others will mourn the dead. I tell you,
hold back your feminine tears and endure.
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