From the Archives

Two Epigrams, Lovers’ Tears

Asclepiades,

translated by

Edmund Keeley

Stay put where I hung you above the door, my garlands.

Don’t hurry to shake your petals, watered by my tears.

Lovers’ eyes rain easily. But when you see him open the door,

let my rain drip on his head; that way at least

his blond hair will drink my tears.

Drink, Asclepiades. Tears? What’s the problem?

You’re hardly the only one Aphrodite plundered,

Hardly the only one piercing Eros sighted with his sharpened

bow and arrows. Still alive, why make your bed on ashes?

Let’s drink what Bacchus offers undiluted. Daylight’s a finger’s distance away.

Why wait for the lamp that signals a night’s sleep?

Let’s drink, sad lover. Not far down the road, poor soul,

we’ll have an endless night to rest.

The Yale Review is committed to publishing pieces from its archive as they originally appeared, without alterations to spelling, content, or style. Occasionally, errors creep in due to the digitization process; we work to correct these errors as we find them. You can email [email protected] with any you find.

Asclepiades (ca. 300 BC–ca. 260 BC) was a Greek poet and epigrammist.

Edmund Keeley is author of eight novels, most recently The Megabuilders of Queenston Park. His translation (in collaboration with Karen Emmerich) from Modern Greek, Yannis Ritsos: Diaries of Exile, received the 2014 PEN Award for Poetry in Translation. He taught English, creative writing, and Hellenic studies at Princeton for forty years.

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