Zeus, Accomplisher, grant that such a destiny may always hold good

for Aetna’s citizens and kings beside the waters of Amenas,*

a true record on the lips of men.

For if you help him, a ruler who advises his son well

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may by honouring his people turn them towards harmonious peace.

I pray you, son of Cronus, grant that the war-cry of Phoenicians and Etruscans

may stay at home, now that they have seen their insolent violence

bring lamentation on their fleet for what it endured at Cumae,

crushed by the Syracusan commander, who hurled their finest men

from their swift ships into the sea, and rescued Greece from harsh slavery.

From Salamis I shall earn the Athenians’ thanks as payment,

and in Sparta for my tale of the battles before Cithaeron,*

where the Medes who shoot with curved bows were overcome.

But by the well-watered bank of Himera

my reward shall be for the song I have made for Deinomenes’ sons,

which they earned by their courage when their enemies were overthrown.

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If you should speak in keeping with the occasion,*

plaiting the threads of many matters into a brief whole,

men will find less fault with you;

for wearisome excess blunts the edge of keen expectancy,

and in their secret hearts men are especially oppressed

when they hear praise of other citizens.

Nevertheless, since it is better to be envied than pitied,

do not deviate from your noble course.

Steer your people with the rudder of justice,

and forge your tongue on the anvil of truth.

You know that even a trivial word can carry great influence,

if it leaps like a spark from your mouth.

You hold great wealth in trust, and there are many men

to bear reliable witness to your acts, for good or ill.

Retain the full vigour of your spirits,

and if it pleases you to hear that men always speak well of you

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do not grow weary of spending,

but like a steersman let your sail out to catch the wind.

My friend, do not be taken in by unworthy use of wealth,

for the award of posthumous fame is the only testimony

that storytellers and poets can give to the lives of the dead.

Croesus’ generous virtues do not fade,

but he who burnt men in his brazen bull, Phalaris,*

is dogged by an evil report throughout the world,

and no lyres in men’s halls welcome him to the soft embrace of boys’ voices.

Success is the best prize, and the next best destiny is a good reputation;

but the man who lights on both and holds them fast wins the highest crown.

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PYTHIAN 2

For Hieron of Syracuse, winner of the chariot race

Syracuse, great city, sanctuary of Ares*who lives in the thick of war,
divine nurse of horsemen who delight in iron,
I come to you from gleaming Thebes bringing this song
which tells of an earth-shaking four-horse team:
how Hieron, possessor of fine chariots, won the prize,
and with far-shining wreaths crowned Ortygia,home of river-goddess Artemis;
not without her aid did he tame with gentle hands
those colts with their richly worked reins.
For it is the maiden goddess, delighting in the bow,
who with Hermes, god of the games, fits the bright harness with both hands,	10
when Hieron yokes his strong horses to the polished car
and to the chariot that governs the bit,
calling on the wide-ruling god, the trident-holder.*
As tribute to their success men pay kings sweet-sounding songs.
Often the men of Cyprus sing of Cinyras,*
whom golden-haired Apollo gladly befriended,
and who was Aphrodite’s favourite priest;
for reciprocal favour is paid in return for deeds of friendship.
And you, son of Deinomenes, are extolled in front of her house
by a maiden of Western Locri,*because after desperate struggles of war
she now, because of your power, gazes out with confidence.	20
Ixion,*they say, whirling wildly on his wheel by the gods’ decree,
speaks these words to mortals:
Repay your benefactor, always meeting him with gentle acts of recompense.
He learnt this lesson in unambiguous terms,
for though he had won an agreeable life with the friendly children of Cronus
he did not enjoy his happiness for long,
since in his crazy heart he conceived a passion for Hera,
whose duty it was to bring pleasure to the bed of Zeus.
Insolence drove him into presumptuous folly,
and he quickly suffered his deserts, earning exquisite torment for himself.

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