Love
Epigram XLIV (Mair)
Translated by A. W. Mair (1921) · From Epigrams (Loeb, 1921)
Love
The stranger had a wound and we knew it not. How painful a sigh, marked you? he heaved when he drank his third cup, and the roses, shedding their petals, fell from his garlands all upon the ground. He is badly burnt, by the gods, my guess is not amiss—a thief myself I know the tracks of a thief.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this poem
MLA
Callimachus. “Epigram XLIV (Mair).” Translated by A. W. Mair. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/callimachus/198/.
Chicago
Callimachus. “Epigram XLIV (Mair).” Translated by A. W. Mair. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/callimachus/198/.
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