[Carl Copeland]

Following on Julie’s elegiac dialogue, here’s one of the epigrams I translated some years ago. My Greek is worse than rusty, and I haven’t rechecked the original.


Anthologia Palatina 5.145—Asclepiades (3rd century B.C.)

Do as I tell you, my garlands, and hang for me here in this doorway.
     Linger a little, and don’t hastily scatter your leaves,
drenched, as they are, with my tears, for the eyes of a lover are rainy.
     Then, when you see him emerge, throwing the doors open wide,
sprinkle my rain on his head, and don’t let it fall wide of its target,
     so that at least his blond hair drinks what is left of my tears.


Edits
L5 was: sprinkle my rain on his head, and give generously of your moisture,
L6 was: letting his golden blond hair drink the soft drops of my tears.


Original

Αὐτοῦ μοι στέφανοι παρὰ δικλίσι ταῖσδε κρεμαστοὶ
     μίμνετε, μὴ προπετῶς φύλλα τινασσόμενοι,
οὓς δακρύοις κατέβρεξα· κάτομβρα γὰρ ὄμματ᾿ ἐρώντων·
     ἀλλ᾿, ὅταν οἰγομένης αὐτὸν ἴδητε θύρης,
στάξαθ᾿ ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς ἐμὸν ὑετόν, ὡς ἂν ἄμεινον
     ἡ ξανθή γε κόμη τἀμὰ πίῃ δάκρυα.


In place of a crib. The first of the following prose translations may be W. R. Paton’s and the second a recent update by David Tueller, both for the Loeb Classical Library. I don’t have the books in front of me and can’t be sure.

Abide here, my garlands, where I hang ye by this door, nor shake off your leaves in haste, for I have watered you with my tears — rainy are the eyes of lovers. But when the door opens and ye see him, shed my rain on his head, that at least his fair hair may drink my tears.

Garlands, stay hanging for me here by these double doors and do not prematurely shake off your leaves; I drenched you with my tears (for lovers’ eyes are stormy). But when the door opens and you see him, shed my rain over his head, so that at least his blond hair may drink my tears.