V
For Phylakidas of Aegina, son of Lampon, and brother of Pytheas (celebrated in the Fifth Nemean), on his victory in the Pankration, BC 476 (?).
Strophe 1
Theia of many names, O mother of the Sun,28
Men set their stamp on gold for love of thee,
Of all things precious counting this the mightiest one;
Yea, and in rivalry,
Queen, for thy brightness on the sea do galleys clash in wars,
And in the whirling fight are marvels wrought by battle-cars.
Antistrophe 1
He in the contests of the Games achieves renown
Desired of all, who hath won victory’s meed
By hands that wreathed his head with many a crown,
Or by his fleet foot’s speed.
’Tis Heaven awards each prize of strength: two things alone there be
That make life’s loveliest blossoms blow in wealth’s flower-spangled lea,
Epode 1
To have good hap and reputation fair.
Seek not to be as Zeus; all things are thine
If to thee falls of these best gifts thy share;
For mortal bounds must mortal men confine.
But, O Phylakidas, for thee at Isthmus lies in store
A twofold meed of fadeless fame, at Nemea for you twain,
For thee and Pytheas, crowns pankratian. Oh, mine heart no more
Rapture of song can taste, except the Aiakids swell the strain.
Led by the Graces I, by sons of Lampon summoned o’er,
Strophe 2
To this, the city of fair governance, came. If she
To the clear path of deeds that Gods inspire
Hath turned her steps, grudge not the wine of minstrelsy,
Her valour’s glory-hire.
Yea, for in days heroic her brave sons earned glory’s crown,
And lyre and flute-notes manifold still peal out their renown
Antistrophe 2
Through years past numbering. By Zeus Kronion’s grace
A new theme Oineus’ mighty sons have found
For bards inspired: Aetolians still with altar-blaze
Worship the world-renowned;
And chariot-speeding Iolaus still is Thebe’s pride,
Of Argos Perseus, Leda’s sons Eurotas’ stream beside.
Epode 2
And still Oenone worships the renown
Of Aiakus and his sons high-hearted, they
Who in stern battle sacked the Trojans’ town
First, when with Heracles they faced the fray,
Then, with the sons of Atreus:—upward wing, O Muse, thy flight!
Tell who were they before whom Kyknus fell, and Hector died.
Who smote the dauntless chief who led the Aethiop hosts to fight,
Memnon the brazen-mailed? And who, Kaïkus’ stream beside,
Met valiant Telephus, and with resistless spear did smite?
Strophe 3
Even they whose home my lips proclaim the glorious isle
Aegina!—that tower builded long ago
For heroism’s feet to scale her stately pile.
My tongue’s true-aiming bow
Hath many a shaft whose flight shall sing their praise: yea, Aias’ state
Can witness how her shipmen’s prowess saved from thraldom’s fate
Antistrophe 3
Salamis in that ruin-tempest heaven-sent,
When slaughter’s hailstorm did on myriads fall—
Yet hush, O lips of mine, the vaunt irreverent!
Is not Zeus Lord of all?
He ordereth this and that. These late-won honours gladly hail
Sweet song that hymns the victor’s joy. Now, whoso hears the tale
Epode 3
Of this Kleonikus’ house, e’en let him dare
The athlete-strife! Not dulled is yet the fame
Of their long toils! Nought for the cost they care:
No power hath this their fiery hopes to tame!
Yea, also Pytheas do I praise, who schooled unerringly
His brother’s hands to deal the blows whereby Phylakidas bare
To earth the limbs of rivals—ah, a cunning fighter he!
Ho, take for him a crown, and bring the fleecy fillet fair!
With song fresh-pinioned speed him on his path of victory!
