Nature
Book IX, 377
Translated by W. R. Paton (1916–18) · From The Greek Anthology (Loeb, vol. III, 1917)
Tantalus ate nothing, for the fruit of the trees that tossed over his head ever eluded him, and owing to this, being in want of food, he was less thirsty ; but suppose he had eaten ripe figs, and plums, and apples, do dead men get so very thirsty from eating fresh fruit? But we guests eat all sorts of salted dishes, quails and cheese and goose’s fat, poultry and veal, and on the top of all drink only one glass. So we are worse off than you, Tantalus.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Cite this poem
MLA
Alexandria, Palladas of. “Book IX, 377.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/palladas/34/.
Chicago
Alexandria, Palladas of. “Book IX, 377.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/palladas/34/.
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