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{
    "url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/texts/10706/?format=api",
    "language": {
        "code": "fra",
        "iso_name": "French",
        "url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/fra/?format=api"
    },
    "edition": {
        "url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/editions/17/?format=api",
        "descriptions": [
            {
                "url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/descriptions/137/?format=api",
                "language": {
                    "code": "eng",
                    "iso_name": "English",
                    "url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/eng/?format=api"
                },
                "created_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:39.376000Z",
                "updated_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:39.376000Z",
                "description": "M. Yourcenar"
            }
        ],
        "edition_type": 0,
        "metadata": {},
        "created_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:39.377000Z",
        "updated_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:39.377000Z"
    },
    "unique_id": 100001039,
    "created_at": "2021-10-21T02:27:48.505292Z",
    "updated_at": "2021-10-21T02:27:48.505301Z",
    "validation": 0,
    "status": 1,
    "text": "La vieillesse et la mort tenant conciliabule,\r\nJ'ai fait ces vers, moi, Méléagre, fils d'Eubule,\r\nBon poète... Vis vieux comme moi, Étranger !\r\nCos, belle île, a mes os. Gadara, ma patrie,\r\nPuis Tyr, m'avaient nourri, chères villes ! Passant,\r\nKhairé, si tu es Grec, Salâm, si de Syrie,\r\nEt si Phénicien, je te dis, Haidoni !\r\nRends-moi mon doux salut, bénissant et béni,\r\nEt, près des morts pieux, passe d'un pied léger,\r\nCar l'homme, quel que soit son pays et son sang,\r\nFils du Chaos, sort de la terre et y descend.",
    "comments": [],
    "alignments": [],
    "passages": [
        "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/passages/urn:cts:greekLit:tlg7000.tlg001.ag:7.419/?format=api"
    ]
}