Living
Book IX, 162: On a Pen
Translated by W. R. Paton (1916–18) · From The Greek Anthology (Loeb, vol. III, 1917)
I was a reed, a useless plant, bearing neither figs, nor apples, nor grapes; but a man initiated me into the mysteries of Helicon, fashioning thin lips for me and excavating in me a narrow channel. Ever since, when I sip black liquor, I become inspired, and utter every variety of words with this dumb mouth of mine.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this poem
MLA
Anonymous (Greek Anthology). “Book IX, 162: On a Pen.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-greek-anthology/436/.
Chicago
Anonymous (Greek Anthology). “Book IX, 162: On a Pen.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/anonymous-greek-anthology/436/.
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