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"text": "I am the tomb of chaste Nonna, who approached \r\nthe gates of Heaven even while yet alive.",
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"text": "Un jour qu’il ne saluait pas, quelqu’un lui dit : « Eh bien ! Damon, la beauté sans pareille, ne salue même plus ? Un temps viendra où cela se paiera. Alors, couvert de poils, le premier tu nous salueras… sans qu’on réponde ! »",
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"text": "À présent tu demandes, alors que sur tes tempes se glisse un fin duvet et qu’apparaît sur tes cuisses le poil piquant ! « C’est plus plaisant pour moi », dis-tu ensuite… ? Mais qui oserait dire le chaume sec meilleur que les gerbes d’épis ?",
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"text": "La fesse de Sosarchos d’Amphipolis, si Éros, ce fléau des humains, par jeu l’a modelée avec tant de moelleux c’est pour exciter Zeus : les cuisses de Ganymède sont loin d’être aussi douces !",
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"text": "Heures et Grâces t’ont versé l’huile suave, ô fesse ! Même aux vieillards tu ôtes le sommeil. Dis-moi, de qui es-tu, toi, la divine ? À quel garçon appartient ce joyau ? La fesse dit : « À Ménécrate. »",
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"text": "Nicander’s light is out. All the bloom has left his complexion, and not even the name of charm survives, Nicander -whom we once counted among the immortals. But, ye young men. let not your thoughts mount higher than beseems a mortal ; there are such things as hairs.",
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"text": "Nicandre s’est terni, envolée toute la fleur de sa peau ! Et plus rien ne demeure de ses charmes, pas même le nom ; lui qu’on mettait au rang des dieux naguère… Alors, jeunes amis, pas de pensée qui dépasse l’humain : les poils, ça existe !",
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"text": "Écrire que Théron est beau, jamais plus ! De même pour Apollodote, cette flamme de naguère, aujourd’hui tison. Moi j’aime les amours délicates : l’étau des trous poilus de ces ribauds, je le laisse aux bergers qui enfilent les chèvres !",
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"text": "Il fut un temps où les cadeaux décidaient les garçons aimants : caille, osselets, balle cousue. Aujourd’hui bon dîner et monnaie. Ces joujoux-là n’ont plus d’effet. Pédérastes, cherchez autre chose !",
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"text": "E se agora teus cabelos brancos te acalmam e aquela quente vara de louco amor perdeu vigor \r\ne conhecendo os desejos da juventude, tu devias, Cleóbulo, hoje te compadecer das dores dos mais jovens\r\ne não te irritar muito por causa de coisas comuns, nem desprover integralmente a delicada jovem de seus cabelos.\r\nTu foste tratado como um pai pela infortunada criança, mas agora repentinamente te tornaste o adversário.",
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"text": "Por quê triste ? Por quê essa vulgar arrancada de cabelo e a confusão dos olhares úmidos, Philainis?\r\nNão viste que teu amante leva outra em seu peito? Mas fala comigo, nós conhecemos o remédio para a aflição.\r\nChoras, mas dizes que não. Em vão tentas negar, pois os olhos são mais confiáveis do que a língua.",
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"text": "Oui, oui, tirez, Amours ; pour des archers multiples au tir conjugué, je gis là, cible unique ! N’épargnez pas vos traits, petits fous. À me vaincre, vous allez devenir archers de renom parmi les Immortels, comme des possesseurs d’un grand carquois.",
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"text": "Je n’ai pas vingt-deux ans et je suis las de vivre. Amours, pourquoi ces tortures ? Pourquoi me consumer ? Dites, s’il m’arrive malheur, qu’allez-vous faire? Bien sûr, Amours, tout comme avant, en inconscients, vous jouerez aux osselets.",
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"text": "Je suis à terre ! De ton talon, foule ma nuque, démon sauvage ! Je te connais bien, oui, par les dieux, et je sais de quel poids tu pèses. Je connais aussi tes traits de feu. Mais tes brandons jetés sur mon cœur ne sauraient l’enflammer : déjà il n’est que cendres !",
"comments": [],
"alignments": [],
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},
{
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"code": "fra",
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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}
],
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"unique_id": 100001984,
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"updated_at": "2022-03-02T18:12:29.758683Z",
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"text": "Bois, Asclépiade ! Pourquoi ces larmes ? Qu’as-tu donc ? Va, tu n’es pas le seul que la dure Cypris ait capturé, le seul non plus contre qui ait aiguisé flèches et traits le cruel Éros ! Pourquoi, vivant, te coucher dans la poussière ? Buvons pure la liqueur de Bacchus. Il reste un doigt de jour… Ou bien attendrons-nous de voir se rallumer la lampe du coucher ?\r\nNous buvons, pas de temps à perdre ! Il n’y a plus grand temps, malheureux, et ce sera le grand repos de la longue nuit…",
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"code": "fra",
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],
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"metadata": {},
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},
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"created_at": "2022-03-02T18:26:24.638820Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-02T18:26:24.638825Z",
"validation": 0,
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"text": "Verse et redis encore : « À Diocles » : les cyathes que nous lui consacrons, Achélôos n’y fait pas attention. \r\nIl est beau ce garçon, Achélôos, d’une rare beauté. Et si quelqu’un dit le contraire… tant mieux si je suis seul, moi, à connaître le Beau.",
"comments": [],
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"updated_at": "2022-03-02T18:52:49.630822Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Soufflant à la joie des marins, le Vent du Sud, tristes amants, a pris moitié de mon âme, Andragathos !\r\nVaisseaux trois fois heureux, trois fois heureux les flots du large et quatre fois aussi le vent qui emporte mon aimé. \r\nQue je voudrais être dauphin ! Monté sur mes épaules, il franchirait les mers, jusqu’à ce qu’apparaisse l’île aux délicieux garçons, Rhodes.",
"comments": [],
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"code": "por",
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"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/por/?format=api"
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{
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/descriptions/77/?format=api",
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"code": "eng",
"iso_name": "English",
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/eng/?format=api"
},
"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:29.867000Z",
"updated_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:29.867000Z",
"description": "Luiz Capelo"
}
],
"edition_type": 0,
"metadata": {},
"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:29.868000Z",
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},
"unique_id": 100001987,
"created_at": "2022-03-02T21:39:55.203948Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-02T21:39:55.203968Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Ó deusa de Paphos, um dia, enquanto eu brincava com a persuasiva Hermione, ela portava um delicado cinto ornado com uma diversidade de flores e inscrito com letras douradas que diziam: « Ama-me por inteiro, mas não se aflija caso um outro me tenha ».",
"comments": [],
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{
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"code": "fra",
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"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/fra/?format=api"
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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"updated_at": "2022-03-03T18:37:00.944024Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Vaisseaux de haute mer, aux lourdes cargaisons, qui passez le détroit d’Hellé en accueillant le joli vent du nord au sein de vos voilures, si longeant l’île de Cos vous apercevez, quelque part sur la plage, Phanion scrutant la mer d’azur, donnez-lui ce message, beaux navires : « Sur les ailes du Désir, je viens à elle, empruntant non pas la voie marine, mais les chemins pédestres de la terre. »\r\nSi vous lui dites ces mots, heureux messagers, sur le champ Zeus propice soufflera dans vos voiles.",
"comments": [],
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{
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/texts/11669/?format=api",
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"code": "fra",
"iso_name": "French",
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/fra/?format=api"
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"edition": {
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/editions/21/?format=api",
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"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/descriptions/243/?format=api",
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"code": "eng",
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],
"edition_type": 0,
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},
"unique_id": 100001989,
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"updated_at": "2022-03-03T18:39:26.511353Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Être la mère d’Éros ? Cypris le nie : parmi les jeunes garçons elle a vu un autre Cupidon, Antiochos.\r\nJeunes gens, aimez un Amour nouveau ; car il s’est révélé, ce garçon, un Éros plus parfait qu’Éros.",
"comments": [],
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"code": "fra",
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"code": "eng",
"iso_name": "English",
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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],
"edition_type": 0,
"metadata": {},
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"unique_id": 100001990,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T18:45:42.627287Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-03T18:45:42.627304Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "La rocheuse Délos, baignée par la vague, c’est ton domaine, Létoïde, fils du grand Zeus, oracle universel. \r\nMais sur la Cécropée règne Échédémos, un nouveau Phébus pour l’Attique, une fleur superbe qu’a fait briller Éros aux fins cheveux. \r\nCelle qui domina les terres et les mers, Athènes, sa patrie, a mis à présent la Grèce à genoux, esclave de la beauté !",
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{
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"code": "eng",
"iso_name": "English",
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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],
"edition_type": 0,
"metadata": {},
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"unique_id": 100001991,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T18:54:59.069726Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-03T18:54:59.069744Z",
"validation": 0,
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"text": "Une statue d’Éros en mabre de Paros, Praxitèle le sculpteur l’a réalisée, reproduisant l’image du fils de Cypris. \r\nEt voici qu’aujourd’hui le plus joli des dieux, Éros, a fabriqué une statue vivante, en lui donnant ses propres traits : Praxitèle, pour que l’un en ce monde et l’autre dans l’éther soient les arbitres de tous charmes, pour que sur terre aussi et chez les bienheureux tous pouvoirs soient donnés aux Amours. \r\nHeureuse es-tu, cité sainte des Méropes, d’avoir nourri l’enfant divin, nouvel Éros qui tient les jeunes sous sa loi !",
"comments": [],
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{
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"code": "fra",
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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"metadata": {},
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"unique_id": 100001992,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T19:03:52.116758Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-03T19:03:52.116773Z",
"validation": 0,
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"text": "Praxitèle, l’ancien sculpteur, exécuta une splendide statue sans vie, muette expression de la beauté, en transformant le marbre. \r\nLe Praxitèle d’aujourd’hui, magicien créateur de vie, a modelé dans mon cœur ce grand bandit d’Éros. Sans doute n’a-t-il en commun avec l’autre que le nom car, pour ses œuvres, il lui est bien supérieur : ce n’est pas la pierre mais la vie des âmes qu’il transfigure. \r\nQue sa main bienveillante donne son empreinte à mon être ; qu’il en modèle l’intérieur et fasse de mon âme un temple d’Amour.",
"comments": [],
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{
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/texts/11673/?format=api",
"language": {
"code": "fra",
"iso_name": "French",
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/fra/?format=api"
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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],
"edition_type": 0,
"metadata": {},
"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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},
"unique_id": 100001993,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T19:06:22.650720Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-03T19:06:22.650737Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Oui, la belle Trézène est nourricière de jeunes garçons et, sans crainte d’erreur, tu peux vanter jusqu’au dernier d’entre eux. Mais Empédocle a plus d’éclat, comme parmi les fleurs printanières rayonne de beauté une rose.",
"comments": [],
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{
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"code": "fra",
"iso_name": "French",
"url": "https://anthologiagraeca.org/api/languages/fra/?format=api"
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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"edition_type": 0,
"metadata": {},
"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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},
"unique_id": 100001994,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T19:09:10.907416Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-03T19:09:10.907435Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Splendides, par Éros, les enfants que Tyr nourrit ! Mais Myiscos éclipse les astres, c’est un soleil qui brille.",
"comments": [],
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{
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:28:09.159000Z",
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],
"edition_type": 0,
"metadata": {},
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},
"unique_id": 100001995,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T19:18:04.868354Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-03T19:18:04.868372Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Prends garde : de tes feux continuels ne fais pas fondre Cnide toute entière, Aribaze : la pierre éclate à la chaleur !",
"comments": [],
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},
{
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"metadata": {},
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"unique_id": 100001996,
"created_at": "2022-03-03T19:22:06.704471Z",
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"text": "En silence Héraclite de ses yeux lance ce cri : « Même l’éclair de Zeus qui porte sa foudre, je le brûle ! » Et Diodore avec sa poitrine dit ces mots : « Même la pierre, à la chaleur de ma peau, je la fonds » !\r\nInfortuné celui sur qui l’un des garçons de ses yeux a lancé la flamme et que l’autre consume au doux brasier d’Amour !",
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"text": "Si Zeus est toujours celui-là qui ravit le jeune corps de Ganymède afin d’avoir un échanson pour son nectar, mon joli Myiscos, il me faut tout contre mon cœur le tenir caché, de peur que sur l’enfant, sans que je l’aperçoive, il n’abatte ses ailes !",
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"text": "Zeus, qui veilles sur Pise, ce Peithénor, ce deuxième fils de Cypris, couronne-le au pied de l’altier Kronion. Et pour en faire l’échanson qui remplirait tes coupes, en t’élevant au ciel comme un aigle, ne me le ravis pas à la place, Seigneur, du joli Dardanide. \r\nSi ma Muse jamais t’offrit quelque don qui te plut, fais que l’enfant divin à mon âme s’accorde.",
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"text": "Décidez, Amours, à quel amant revient l’enfant. Si vraiment c’est aux Immortels, soit ! Je ne lutte pas avec Zeus ! Mais s’il reste quelque chance aux mortels, dites, Amours, à qui était Dorothéos? Et à qui donc maintenant se donne-t-il ? On le dit au grand jour : c’est moi le favori !\r\nMais va-t’en ! Ne viens pas encore, en vain toi aussi, m’entrainer vers la beauté.",
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"text": "Le beau Dionysios, je ne le vois pas ! Est-il ravi au ciel, Zeus Père, et sert-il <aux immortels> de deuxième échanson ? Aigle, sur le gracieux enfant quand tes ailes rapides fondirent, comment le portais-tu ? De tes serres ne garde-t-il point de griffures ?",
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"text": "Je ne veux pas de Charidamos ! Le beau garçon, les yeux tournés vers Zeus, croit déjà lui verser le nectar ! Non, je ne le veux pas. Eh quoi ? Au roi du ciel, vais-je disputer la victoire en amour ?\r\nIl me suffit qu’en montant vers l’Olympe l’enfant prenne d’ici-bas, pour en baigner ses pieds, mes larmes, souvenir de ma tendresse ; et qu’il me lance un doux clin d’œil, un humide regard, et se laisse ravir un baiser qui l’effleure.\r\nTout le reste pour Zeus, c’est justice ! Mais s’il y consent, peut-être moi aussi goûterai-je à l’ambroisie…",
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"text": "Zeus, jouis de ton premier Ganymède, mais mon cher Dexandre, prince, regarde-le de loin ; je ne l’interdis point. Mais si tu prends de force mon bel enfant, c’est un abus de pouvoir intolérable. Au diable la vie sous ta loi !",
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"iso_name": "Portuguese",
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"created_at": "2021-04-08T21:27:29.867000Z",
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"description": "Luiz Capelo"
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],
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"metadata": {},
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"created_at": "2022-03-04T21:28:06.868257Z",
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"text": "Ó Zeus, primeiro se delicie com Ganimedes e, senhor, apenas veja o meu Dexandro de longe, eu não sinto ciúmes.\r\nMas se você pegar o belo garoto por intermédio da força, nunca será um senhor tolerável! Que viver sob seu comando fique longe.",
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"text": "Je me dresserai face à Zeus en personne si, pour que tu sois l’échanson du nectar, Myiscos, il lui prenait de vouloir te ravir.\r\nEt pourtant, de lui-même, maintes fois il m’a dit : « Ne t’affole pas ; je n’irai pas te frapper de mes traits jaloux : en souffrant j’ai appris la pitié ! »\r\nCe sont là ses propos. Mais qu’une mouche vole, je m’affole : si par hasard il me mentait, Zeus…",
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"unique_id": 100002006,
"created_at": "2022-03-04T22:01:39.627396Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-04T22:01:39.627412Z",
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"status": 1,
"text": "Cléonicos de Thessalie, malheureux, ah ! malheureux ! Non, par le soleil brûlant, je ne t’ai pas reconnu. Infortuné, où es-tu arrivé ? Tu n’es plus qu’os et poils ! Mais n’est-ce pas mon propre démon qui te possède ? Ne t’es-tu pas mesuré à un bien triste sort ? \r\nJe reconnais bien là une proie d’Euxithéos : dès ta venue, ce beau garçon, pauvre ami, de tes yeux tu le fixais !",
"comments": [],
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"unique_id": 100002007,
"created_at": "2022-03-04T22:07:36.826975Z",
"updated_at": "2022-03-04T22:07:36.826992Z",
"validation": 0,
"status": 1,
"text": "Déjà la douce aurore, et là, devant la porte, Damis que le sommeil a fui exhale le peu de souffle qui lui reste encore, le malheureux, pour avoir vu Héraclite, pour être demeuré sous les feux de son regard, cire lancée sur la braise !\r\nAllons, réveille-toi, infortuné Damis ! D’Éros, moi aussi, je porte la blessure et sur tes pleurs je verse mes pleurs.",
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"updated_at": "2022-03-04T22:18:41.704109Z",
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"text": "La moitié de mon âme respire encore, l’autre, je ne sais pas si c’est Éros ou Hadès qui l’a prise. En tout cas, disparue ! Est-elle encore allée chez quelqu’un des garçons ? Je leur au pourtant dit maintes fois : « N’accueillez pas, jeunes gens, la fugitive. »\r\n< N’est-elle pas chez toi ? Cherche ! > Cette folle d’amour, vrai gibier de potence, oui, c’est pas là, j’en suis presque sûr, qu’elle rôde.",
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"text": "S’il m’arrive quelque malheur, Cléobule — plus que jamais plongé aux flammes garçonnières, je gis là sans force — ce qui de moi reste dans la cendre, je t’en supplie, enivre-le de vin pur avant de placer l’urne sous terre avec cette inscription : « Don d’Éros à Hadès ».",
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"created_at": "2021-05-06T21:10:04.033306Z",
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"text": "If thou wert to grow golden wings above, and on thy silvery shoulders were slung a quiver full of arrows, and thou wert to stand, dear, beside Love in his splendour, never, by Hermes I swear it, would Cypris herself know which is her son.",
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"text": "Si tu mettais sur ton dos des ailes d’or et qu’à tes épaules d’argent pende un carquois plein de flèches, su tu te plaçais près de l’Éros resplendissant, non, par Hermès, Cypris elle-même ne reconnaîtra pas son fils !",
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"text": "If Love had a chlamys and no wings, and wore no bow and quiver on his back, but a petasus, yea, I swear it by the splendid youth himself, Antiochus would be Love, and Love, on the other hand, Antiochus.",
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"text": "Si Éros avait la chlamyde et point d’ailes, ni carquois, ni flèches sur les dos, mais portait le pétase, j’en jure par le tendre éphèbe, Antiochos serait Éros et, à l’inverse, Éros Antiochos.",
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"text": "Antipater kissed me when my love was on the wane, and set ablaze again the fire from the cold ash. So against my will I twice encountered one flame. Away, ye who are like to be love-sick, lest touching those near me I burn them.",
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"text": "Antipatros m’a embrassé quand déjà mon amour se mourait, et à nouveau de la cendre froide il a fait jaillir la flamme. Deux fois, sans le vouloir, j’ai retrouvé le même brasier. Pauvres amants, fuyez ! que n’embrase en les touchant ceux qui m’approchent !",
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"text": "Sore weeping soul, why is Love’s wound that was assuaged inflamed again in thy vitals ? No, No for God’s sake, No ! For God’s sake, O thou lover of unwisdom, stir not the fire that yet glows under the ashes ! For straightway, O unmindful of past woe, if Love catch thee again, he shall vilely use the truant he has found.",
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"text": "Âme éplorée, cette plaie d’Amour cicatrisée, pourquoi derechef au fond de ton cœur s’enflamme-t-elle ? Oh ! non, non par Zeus, non, pauvre inconstante, ne va pas, par Zeus, activer le feu qui couve sous la cendre ! Oublieuse des souffrances passées, toi l’évadée, si une nouvelle fois Éros te saisit, il se hâtera de punir la fugitive retrouvée.",
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{
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"text": "Love-sick deceivers of your souls, ye who know the flame of lads’ love, having tasted the bitter honey, pour about my heart cold water, cold, and quickly, water from new-melted snow. For I have dared to look on Dionysius, But, fellow-slaves, ere it reach my vitals, put the fire in me out.",
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"text": "Cœurs abusés, malheureux amants qui de l’amour des garçons connaissez l’ardente flamme pour avoir goûté à ce miel amer, vite, de l’eau fraîche pour m’en baigner, bien fraîche, eau de neige à peine fondue, là sur mon cœur, versez-là !\r\nOui, j’ai osé regarder Dionysios ! Oh ! compagnons d’esclavage, avant qu’à mes entrailles il ne parvienne, écartez de moi ce feu, éteignez-le !",
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"text": "I made haste to escape from Love; but he, lighting a little torch from the ashes, found me in hiding. He bent not his bow, but the tips of his thumb and finger, and breaking off a pinch of fire secretly threw it at me. And from thence the flames rose about me on all sides. O Phanion, little light that set ablaze in my heart a great fire.",
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