Abstract

The text of this poem, already corrupt in the Palatine, has had a turbulent history over the last two centuries. Here is Page's version, the translation in Gow–Page, and my own somewhat expanded apparatus: I who in time past was good for five or nine times, now, Aphrodite, hardly manage once from early night to sunrise. The thing itself, – already often only at half-strength, – is gradually dying. That's the last straw. Old age, old age, what will you do later when you come to me, if even now I am as languid as this.