„Heart, my heart, so battered with misfortune far beyond your strength,
up, and face the men who hate us.“
— Archilochus Ancient Greek lyric poet -680 - -645 до н.э.
Fragment 67, as translated by R. Lattimore http://www.rhapsodes.fll.vt.edu/arkhilokhos67.htm
Soul, my soul, don't let them break you,
all these troubles. Never yield:
though their force is overwhelming,
up! attack them shield to shield...
"Archilochos: To His Soul" : A fragment http://web.archive.org/20030629194753/geocities.com/joncpoetics/translations/Archsoul.htm as translated from the Greek by Jon Corelis http://web.archive.org/20030805055937/www.geocities.com/joncpoetics/
Take the joy and bear the sorrow,
looking past your hopes and fears:
learn to recognize the measured
dance that orders all our years.
"Archilochos: To His Soul" : A fragment, as translated from the Greek by Jon Corelis
Добавить примечание: (el) θυμέ, θύμ᾽ ἀμηχάνοισι κήδεσιν κυκώμενε,
ἄνα δέ, δυσμενέων δ᾽ ἀλέξευ προσβαλὼν ἐναντίον
στέρνον, ἐν δοκοῖσιν ἐχθρῶν πλησίον κατασταθείς
ἀσφαλέως· καὶ μήτε νικῶν ἀμφαδὴν ἀγάλλεο
μηδὲ νικηθεὶς ἐν οἴκωι καταπεσὼν ὀδύρεο.
ἀλλὰ χαρτοῖσίν τε χαῖρε καὶ κακοῖσιν ἀσχάλα
μὴ λίην· γίνωσκε δ᾽ οἷος ῥυσμὸς ἀνθρώπους ἔχει.
Контексте: Heart, my heart, so battered with misfortune far beyond your strength,
up, and face the men who hate us. Bare your chest to the assault
of the enemy, and fight them off. Stand fast among the beamlike spears.
Give no ground; and if you beat them, do not brag in open show,
nor, if they beat you, run home and lie down on your bed and cry.
Keep some measure in the joy you take in luck, and the degree you
give way to sorrow. All our life is up-and-down like this.