Love
Book XVI, 210
Translated by W. R. Paton (1916–18) · From The Greek Anthology (Loeb, vol. V, 1918)
When we entered the deep-shadowed wood we found within it the son of Cytherea, like unto rosy apples. Nor had he the quiver that holds arrows, nor his bent bow, but they were hanging on the leafy trees, and he lay among the rose-blossoms smiling, bound fast by sleep, and above him the tawny bees were sprinkling on his dainty lips honey dripping from the comb.
This translation is printed as prose in its source edition.
Codex Note
The heading is lost in the scan; Paton’s Index of Authors lists this epigram under Plato.
Cite this poem
MLA
Plato. “Book XVI, 210.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex, poetrycodex.com/poem/plato/22/.
Chicago
Plato. “Book XVI, 210.” Translated by W. R. Paton. Poetry Codex. https://poetrycodex.com/poem/plato/22/.
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