sexta-feira, 19 de julho de 2013

Poem Unlimited

δούπησεν δὲ πεσών, ἀράβησε δὲ τεύχε’ ἐπ’ αὐτῷ.
αἵματί οἱ δεύοντο κόμαι Χαρίτεσσιν ὁμοῖαι
πλοχμοί θ’, οἳ χρυσῷ τε καὶ ἀργύρῳ ἐσφήκωντο.
οἷον δὲ τρέφει ἔρνος ἀνὴρ ἐριθηλὲς ἐλαίης
χώρῳ ἐν οἰοπόλῳ, ὅθ’ ἅλις ἀναβέβροχεν ὕδωρ,
καλὸν τηλεθάον· τὸ δέ τε πνοιαὶ δονέουσι
παντοίων ἀνέμων, καί τε βρύει ἄνθεϊ λευκῷ·
ἐλθὼν δ’ ἐξαπίνης ἄνεμος σὺν λαίλαπι πολλῇ
βόθρου τ’ ἐξέστρεψε καὶ ἐξετάνυσσ’ ἐπὶ γαίῃ·
τοῖον Πάνθου υἱὸν ἐϋμμελίην Εὔφορβον
Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος ἐπεὶ κτάνε...

Ilíada 17

And he fell with a thud, and over him his armor clanged. In blood was his hair drenched that was like the hair of the Graces, and his tresses that were braided with gold and silver. And as a man rears a lusty sapling of an olive in a lonely place where water wells up abundantly, a noble sapling and fair-growing; and the breezes of all the winds make it quiver, and it burgeons out with white blossoms; but suddendly the wind coming with a mighty tempest tears it out of its hollow, and lays it low on the earth, even so did Menelaus, son of Atreus, slay Panthous' son, Euphorbus of the good ashen spear...

Tradução de A. Murray (Loeb, 1925).

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