by Cecil Bowra
That riches like that and such great glory
[60] Were ever yet surpassed by the older Hellenes,
The fond fool struggles in vain.
I will climb to the flowery bows
And make noise of your greatness.
Youth asks for courage in the terrors of war:
And thence you won
Your infinite renown.
[65] Fighting now in the charging cavalry,
Now with the men on foot.
Your riper age’s wisdom
Gives me a theme, where without peril I sound
The whole gamut of praise.
Good-bye. This song
I am sending, like a Phoenician merchant, over the grey sea.
And on the Kastoreion’s Aeolian mood, so please you,
Look: turn to it, if ever
[70] You liked my seven-stringed harp.
O find, and be, yourself! ‘O that
Lovely ape!’ cry the children, ‘O how
IV
Lovely!’ But Rhadamanthys has found bliss,
Because his judgement bore him fruit without cavil,
And his heart in him has no pleasure in lies,
[75] The constant retinue of crafty whispering men.
– Whom you cannot fight, and they spoil two lives,
Sly hinters of slander,
Their minds exceedingly like foxes’ minds.
Yet Lady Vixen was not so cunning for once –
Let the rest of the tackle toil in the sea’s depth, I
[80] Am the cork that rides the surge. I’ll get no ducking!
He cannot throw his word like a man
In honest company, your twisting knave –
He fawns upon all, weaving fine threads of mischief.
My boldness is not his. Let me love my friend,
But if I must fight my foe, I’ll be wolf and make for his legs,
[85] I’ll be here and there, and twist and turn!
And yet, whoever governs, way is made
For the straight-spoken man;
Where one is king, or when a city is overwatched
By the brute multitude, or by the wise.
No man must fight with God,
Who exalts now those, then to others anon
He will give great splendour. But that
[90] Is little comfort for envious minds.
They strain at a course they cannot stay,
And the sharp wound is in their heart, or ever
Their careful schemes come right.
Let them take the yoke on their neck
And bear it lightly: it were best.
[95] To kick against the goads is the way
To come sprawling. – May I have the regard
Of the noble, and be with them.
Pythian II, like Pythian III and Isthmian II, is not a true Epinician but a poetical letter, sent probably in 468 B.C. to Hieron who has just won the chariot-race at Olympia and asked not Pindar but Bacchylides to celebrate it. Pindar attributes this rebuff to slanderers at Hieron’s Court and, while protesting his admiration and affection for Hieron, lets himself go in denouncing these sycophants.
3 Pindar writes the poem in Thebes and sends it to Syracuse.
4–8 To win the chariot-race at Olympia was regarded as the highest possible success.
9 The ‘archeress maiden’ is Artemis.
12 The ‘Trident-lifter’ is Poseidon.
15 Kinyras is mentioned as an example of a man whom the Gods love. He was a priest-king at Paphos in Kypros and loved alike by Apollo and Aphrodite.
18–20 Hieron has recently saved Western Lokris from Kroton.
31–2 Ixion killed his father-in-law, Eioneus, but was forgiven by the Gods.
21–48 Myth of Ixion, on the theme of ingratitude. Pindar seems to indicate with what horror he regards it and so disclaims being guilty of it. We may also detect a latent hint that Hieron is more likely to be guilty of ingratitude than Pindar.
33–4 Ixion assaults Hera, but a cloud takes her place, from which (42 ff.) a monstrous being, Kentauros, is born. From this and the mares on Pelion are born the Centaurs. Kentauros is Pindar’s own invention, intended to soften the violence of the Centaurs’ origin.
53 ff. Pindar does not wish to be accused of having a sharp tongue, and quotes the sad precedent of Archilochos, a poet of the early seventh century, who was renowned for his savage quarrels.
68 The song sent by Pindar ‘like a Phoenician merchant’ comes, as it were, on approval, to remind Hieron of what kind of poet Pindar is.
69 Pindar asks Hieron to look at some earlier song that he has written for him.
72 Hieron must be his true self on the lines of the Delphic motto ‘Know thyself’.
72 The sudden break in the tone and sequence indicates the degree of Pindar’s resentment. The ancient commentators say that the ape is Bacchylides, who wrote his Ode V for this occasion and certainly imitates Pindar in what might be thought an ape-like way.
73 Against the slanderers Pindar sets Rhadamanthys, judge of the dead, as the ideal of fairness and honesty.
78 The slanderers do themselves no good, and Pindar is untouched by them.
86 Pindar will speak his mind freely, no matter what the form of government is.
90 The slanderers again. It is not quite clear in what pursuit they hurt themselves, and the point of the words is that in Greek ‘strain’ and ‘wound’ echo the same sound.
Olympian IX
For Epharmostos of Opous, winner in the wrestling
I
Archilochos’ tune that rang at Olympia,
The threefold, loud song of victory,
Was enough to guide to Kronos’ Hill
Epharmostos in triumph with his own companions;
[5] But now from the long-range Muses’ bow
Sweep with arrows like these
Zeus of the scarlet thunderbolt
And Elis’ holy peak,
Which of old the Lydian hero, Pelops,
[10] Won as Hippodameia’s most beautiful dowry,
And shoot a sweet feathered arrow at Pytho.
The words you handle
Will not fall to the ground,
When you make the harp strings tremble
For a man’s wrestling, who comes
From glorious Opous. Praise herself and her son;
[15] She belongs to Right
And her daughter great in glory,
Saviour Lawfulness.
She flowers in acts of prowess
By your stream, Kastalia, and by Alpheos.
Thence the pick of all garlands exalts in glory
[20] The Lokrians’ mother among her shining trees.
On that dear city
I kindle light with flaming songs,
[25] And faster than thoroughbred horse or ship on the wing
I shall send this news to every quarter,
If by fate’s device I dwell
In a choice garden of the Graces.
They give delightful things, but ’tis their destinies
That makes men noble and wise.
II
For how could Herakles
[30] Have brandished a club in his hands against the trident,
When Poseidon stood over Pylos and drove on him,
And Phoibos drove, shaking his silver bow?
Nor did Death keep the rod unshaken
With which he brings down
[35] The bodies of men to the hollow street of the dying?
Fling this tale away, my lips!
For to revile the Gods is an odious art,
And to boast beyond measure
Is a tune for the song of madness.
[40] Babble not now of such things. Put aside
Every battle and war of Immortals.
Lend your tongue to Protogeneia’s town,
Where Zeus of the flashing thunderbolt decreed
That Pyrrha and Deukalion
Should come down fro
m Parnassos
And set their first home. Without wedlock
[45] They made a single race
Of a generation of stones:
They were called People.
Awake for them the liquid path of words;
Praise an old wine, but the blossoms of songs
That are new. They say that the power
[50] Of waters flooded the black earth,
But Zeus planned that an ebb
Should suddenly check the tide. From them
Were your brazen-shielded ancestors
Begotten in the beginning, children
[55] Of the daughters of Iapetos’ stock
And Kronos’ mighty sons,
Kings in the land for ever,
III
Until the prince of Olympos
Plucked Opous’ daughter from the Epeians’ land
And slept with her secretly
In the Mainalian Hills
And brought her to Lokros,
[60] Lest the years overtake him
With the doom of a childless breed.
But his bride held the mightiest seed, and the hero
Was pleased when he saw the son she brought him,
And named him after his mother’s father,
[65] A man surpassing in beauty and action.
He gave him the people and city to govern.
To him came strangers
From Argos and Thebes, Arkadians and Pisatans also,
But above all newcomers he honoured
Menoitios, Aktor’s child and Aigina’s,
[70] Whose son went with the Atreidai to Teuthras’ plain
And stood with Achilles
Alone, when Telephos routed the strong Danaoi
And fell on the sea-going prows.
He taught wise men to learn
[75] Of Patroklos’ valiant heart.
Then Thetis’ son begged him
Never in murderous war
To take a post far away
From his own man-conquering spear.
[80] May I find words to lead others
And be fit to ride in the Muses’ chariot.
May daring and power follow me in abundance.
By his prowess and office I come
To champion Lampromachos’ crowns at the Isthmos,
Since both are conquerors
IV
[85] In their task on a single day.
Twice again was the joy of victory theirs
In the gates of Korinth,
And for Epharmostos in Nemea’s valley.
At Argos he won fame among men,
And as a boy at Athens;
And what a fight he put up at Marathon,
[90] When dragged away from the striplings,
With older men for the silver cups.
In his fast crafty twists
He slipped not but beat down his rivals,
But to what cheers he went round the ring,
Being young and beautiful,
And most beautiful what he had done.
[95] Then to the Parrhasian people
His marvels were made known
At the feast of Zeus Lykaios.
At Pellana he won the warm remedy against cold winds.
Iolaos’ tomb is witness,
And Eleusis by the sea, to his glory.
[100] What nature gives is in every way best, but many
Have tried to win renown
By taking lessons in prowess.
If a God is not there, nothing
Is worse for being kept in silence, for some roads
[105] Go farther than others. No single training
Will look after all of us.
All skills are steep, but bring this prize
And boldly roar aloud
[110] That by divine will this man has been born
Strong of hand, lithe of limb,
With valour in his eyes,
And by his victory, Aias Ileus’ son,
In your feast he has crowned our altar.
Olympian IX was written in 466 B.C. and sung at the victor’s home in Opous, two years after his Olympian victory.
1–4 At the actual time of victory at Olympia Epharmostos had to be content with the simple victory-song attributed to Archilochos in which the main feature was the three times repeated refrain.
9–10 The story touched upon is told in Olympian I.
11–12 Epharmostos won the wrestling at the Pythian Games in 466 B.C. and this would be fresh news when the poem was composed.
29–40 Pindar rejects stories that Herakles fought against the Gods.
41–79 The myth falls into two parts, (i) the flood which destroyed the first race of men, except for Deukalion and Pyrrha, who created a new race; (ii) the origins of Patroklos, the friend of Achilles.
41 Protogeneia is the daughter of Deukalion and Pyrrha and the ancestress of the new race of men.
46 Pindar plays on the words las, ‘stone’, and laos, ‘people’.
53 The ancestors of Epharmostos were kings of Lokris, and descended from Zeus and Kambysa (58).
58 The daughter of Opous is Kambysa, or a second Protogeneia.
70 The son of Menoitios is Patroklos.
71 Teuthras and Telephos (72) were kings of Mysia.
84 Epharmostos’ brother won in the Isthmian Games on the same day as Epharmostos in the Olympian.
85–99 A list of Epharmostos’ victories.
89 At Marathon he seems to have been taken forcibly from the boys and made to compete with the mature men.
97 The ‘warm remedy’ was a woollen garment.
100 Pindar states his usual belief in breeding.
112 The ceremony takes place at the altar of the younger Aias.
Nemean VII
For Sogenes of Aigina, winner in the boys’ five events
I
Eleithyia, seated at the side
Of the deep-thoughted Fates,
Daughter of strong and mighty Hera, listen,
Bringer of children to birth.
Without you we see not the day or the black night,
Nor find your sister, bright-limbed Youth.
[5] But not for like ends do we all draw breath;
As many as men are the different destinies
That yoke each to his doom and hold him.
By your help Thearion’s son,
Sogenes, has been proved in valour,
And song proclaims him victorious
Among winners of the Five Events.
– He dwells in the song-loving city
[10] Of the Aiakidai, the spear-strikers.
They are glad to look after
A heart well trained in the struggle.
If any man’s actions prosper, he strikes
A honey-hearted well of the Muses’ streams.
Even high deeds of bravery
Have a great darkness if they lack song;
We can hold a mirror to fine doings
In one way only,
[15] If with the help of Memory in her glittering crown
Recompense is found for labour
In echoing words of song.
Wise sailors have learned
Of the wind that conies on the third day,
And lust for profit brings them to no harm.
The rich man and poor man together
[20] Come to death’s boundary.
But I hold that the name of Odysseus
Is more than his sufferings
Because of Homer’s sweet singing;
II
For on his untruths and winged cunning
A majesty lies.
Art beguiles and cheats with its tales,
And often the heart of the human herd is blind.
[25] If it could have seen the truth,
Aias would not, in wrath about armour,
Have driven a smooth sword through his breast.
After Achilles he was the strongest in battle
Of all who
were sent in fast ships
To fetch his wife for brown-haired Menelaos
By the speeding breath of the straight West Wind
[30] To Ilos’ city. To all comes
The wave of death and falls unforeseen
Even on him who foresees it.
But honour grows for the dead
Whose tender repute a God fosters.
One came, a Champion,
To the great navel of broad-bosomed earth,
– In the floor of Pytho he lies –
[35] Neoptolemos. He sacked Troy’s city,
Where the Danaoi also toiled.
He sailed away and missed Skyros;
In their wanderings they came to Ephyra.
For a little time he was king in Molossia,
[40] And his race always holds this honour.
He went to the God with wealth from the loot of Troy,
And there he fell in a fight
Over a victim’s flesh,
And a man struck him with his sword.
III
His Delphian hosts were exceedingly grieved at it,
But he paid what was foreordained.
It was doomed that one of the royal Aiakidai
[45] Should stay for ever within the ancient place
By the God’s well-walled house;
He should remain and see right conduct
Of the heroes’ processions and multitudinous sacrifices.
For honour and justice three words shall suffice:
No lying witness, Aigina,
[50] Watches over the doings
Of sons sprung from you and Zeus.
I make bold to say this –
For shining successes
The royal road of words begins at home.
Yet in every task a pause is sweet;
Even honey cloys,
And Aphrodita’s delicious flowers.
Each of us differs in blood
And has a separate life;
[55] One man has this, and one that.
No man can have the luck to win good fortune entire.
I cannot tell
To whom Fate has given this end for certain.
But to you, Thearion, she grants
A right moment of happiness:
In you who have found daring to do well
[60] She spoils not the mind’s understanding.
I am a guest. I keep black reproach away.
I shall bring true glory like running water
To the man that I love, and praise him.
This reward is right for the noble.
