Some pray for gold, others for boundless land.
I pray to delight my fellow citizens
until my limbs are wrapped in earth - a man
who praised what deserves praise
and sowed blame for wrong-doers.
But human excellence
grows like a vine tree
fed by the green dew
raised up, among wise men and just,
to the liquid sky.
We have all kinds of needs for those we love -
most of all in hardships, but joy, too,
strains to track down eyes that it can trust.
Píndaro, Ode Nemeia VIII, vv. 37-44 (trad. de Martha C. Nussbaum in The Fragility of Goodness, Cambridge University Press, 1986)
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