Şiir 1
Olympian 1 For Hieron of Syracuse Single Horse Race 476 B. C. E.
Water is best, and gold, like a blazing fire in the night, stands out supreme of all lordly wealth. But if, my heart, you wish to sing of contests,
look no further for any star warmer than the sun, shining by day through the lonely sky, and let us not proclaim any contest greater than Olympia, From there glorious song enfolds the wisdom of poets, On this line see F. J. Nisetich, “Olympian 1.8-11: An Epinician Metaphor,” HSCP 79, 1975, 55-68. so that they loudly sing
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the son of Cronus, when they arrive at the rich and blessed hearth of Hieron,
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who wields the scepter of law in Sicily of many flocks, reaping every excellence at its peak, and is glorified
by the choicest music, which we men often play around his hospitable table. Come, take the Dorian lyre down from its peg, if the splendor of Pisa and of Pherenicus placed your mind under the influence of sweetest thoughts,
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when that horse ran swiftly beside the Alpheus, not needing to be spurred on in the race, and brought victory to his master,
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the king of Syracuse who delights in horses. His glory shines in the settlement of fine men founded by Lydian Pelops,
with whom the mighty holder of the earth Poseidon fell in love, when Clotho took him out of the pure cauldron, furnished with a gleaming ivory shoulder. Yes, there are many marvels, and yet I suppose the speech of mortals beyond the true account can be deceptive, stories adorned with embroidered lies;
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and Grace, who fashions all gentle things for men, confers esteem and often contrives to make believable the unbelievable. But the days to come are the wisest witnesses.
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