XCI FUNERAL CHANT
Mitchell S. (Mitchell Starrett) Buck translation
SING a funeral chant, muses of Mytilene, sing! The earth is sombre like a vestment of mourning and the yellow trees shiver like shaken hair.
Heraios! O sweet and sorrowful month! the leaves fall gently like snow, the sun penetrates deeply into the thinning forest.... I hear nothing more, save the silence.
Behold, they have carried Pittakos, laden with years, to the tomb. Many are dead of those I knew. And she who lives is to me as though she were no longer.
This is the tenth autumn I have seen dying upon this plain. It is time that I also vanished away. Weep for me, muses of Mytilene, weep upon my steps!