Love
Book IX, 321
Translated by W. R. Paton (1916–18) · From The Greek Anthology (Loeb, vol. III, 1917)
Why, Cypris, hast thou, to whom the toil of war is strange, got thee these accoutrements of Ares? What falsifier fitted on thee, to no purpose, this hateful armour? Thou delightest in the Loves and the joys of the bridal bed, and the girls dancing madly to the castanets. Lay down these bloody spears. They are for divine Athena, but come thou to Hymenaeus with the flowing locks.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this poem
MLA
Antimachus. “Book IX, 321.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/antimachus/0/.
Chicago
Antimachus. “Book IX, 321.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/antimachus/0/.