That high-end whore who's set this town on fire,
whose breath of gold attracts all who want her,
lay by me naked all night in a dream,
giving herself to me gratis until sweet dawn.
Now I needn't beg this stranger, nor feel
sorry for myself, since Sleep does the trick.
Two woes have I. I'm poor and I'm in love.
First's easy, second's too hot to handle.
Fell in love, kissed, got lucky, and was loved.
But the who and how, Goddess only knows.
Eagle-Zeus came to godlike Ganymede,
as a swan to Helen's fair-haired mother.
There's no comparison between the two,
some like one, some the other. Me, both.
I'd love to be the seaside breeze
that blows on you walking topless.
Oh, to be that pink rose you plucked
and set between your snow-white breasts.
I send you perfume, not to honor you
but it in the wearing. You're the perfume.
Girl playing lyre, I'd like to step up and pluck
your top string, and the pull the one called G.
Hello, young lady.
Who's that in front of you?
What's it to you?
Oh, I have my reasons.
Do I have a chance?
What's in it for her?
Forget about it.
Niko's love charm
carved of clear amethyst
set in gold
and hung on a thread
of purple wool
that can haul
a man across the sea
or a boy
out of his room
to you to keep
the witch of Larissa
When a green grape,
you said, "No!"
Now may I nibble
on your raisin?
Women's love leaves my heart cold, but not men's,
whose torches smother me with coals of fire.
Just as a man's stronger than a woman,
so much hotter and keener's this passion.
Would like to, but can't.
You won't ask for
or accept what I can give
what I would ask of you.
Don't pull my cloak off, mister, but look at me
as a figure draped in wood with marble limbs.
If it's the naked grace of Antiphilos
you want, you'll find that rose growing among thorns.
Look, Aribazos, you can't burn up all Knidos.
Its very stone is crumbling in the heat.
You're beautiful, Persian mothers, you and your babies,
but beautiful Aribazos surpasses beauty.
I don't see the lovely Dionysos around.
Did you pick him up—Big Daddy Zeus—
to be second cupbearer of the gods?
Hey, eagle—when your feathered glory
caught up that pretty boy, did he take on
scratch marks from your claws before you let him drop?
King Zeus, enjoy your old boy Ganymede,
and gaze at my Dexandros from afar.
I've no grudge. But if you take my fair boy by force,
I shan't endure your tyranny nor life itself.
I ask you, Graces, if I be Dionysos' choice,
extend his beauty through the seasons forever.
If he, passing on me, settles on another,
sweep him out like dust and a stale myrtle berry.
When Menecharmos won the boxing match,
I crowned him with ten soft ribbons,
and gave his bloodied-up face three kisses,
but sweeter than myrrh it tasted to me.
Why so noisy, chattering birds? Don't vex me,
when I'm in heaven next to this boy's soft body.
Sleep, you nightingales perching in the leaves,
I beg you, loquacious females. Shut up!
If among the boys, stranger,
you saw one whose bloom
was most lovely,
then it was Apollodotos you saw,
and having seen him,
if you weren't overpowered
by blazing desire,
you must be a god
or a stone.