XIV COME, MELISSA
Mitchell S. (Mitchell Starrett) Buck translation
WHEN the sun burns less fiercely, we will go and play upon the river banks, we will struggle for a frail crocus or for a damp hyacinth.
We will make them into round collars and garlands, prizes for our running. We will take each other by the hand and by the ends of our tunics.
Come, Melissa! give us honey. Come, Naiads! we will bathe with you. Come, Melissa! throw a shadow gently over our perspiring bodies.
And we will offer you, kind nymphs, not shameful wine, but oil and milk and goats with twisted horns.