Ancient Greek Lyrics

Bakchylides

147 Bakchylides Bakchylides A contemporary, possibly younger, of Pindar, Bakchylides was born, like his uncle Simonides, on the island Keos in the Kyklades. He too took part in the dithyrambic competitions at Athens and accompanied his uncle to Sicily around 476 bce. He was reportedly exiled to the Peloponnesos at some time in his life. Like Simonides and Pindar, he wrote for numerous patrons throughout Greece. Until 1896 there survived of Bakchylides only half as many lyric fragments as those of Simonides. But in that year a papyrus-find of fourteen epinikia and six dithyrambs was made in Egypt. Among lyric poets Bakchylides is now second only to Pindar in state of preservation. Fragments remain of other genres of Bakchylides’ choral lyrics. The language of Bakchylides is chiefly a combination of Homeric and Doric—a version of the “standard” international choral language. His style is on the whole much more direct and penetrable than Pindar’s, but his diction is distinguished by an abundance of ornamental compounds, many of them newly coined. Pindar had a feud with Bakchylides, and compares himself to an eagle and Bakchylides to a jackdaw. Scholiast, On Pindar In this ode (Pastor cum traheret) Horace imitates Bakchylides. Porphyrio, On an Ode of Horace There are nine Lyric Poets: Alkman, Alkaios, Sappho, Stesichoros , Ibykos, Anakreon, Simonides, Bakchylides, and Pindar. Eustathios, Introduction to Pindar It seems that the finest and most famous works of the ancients were also induced by exile. The Athenian Thucydides composed his history of the war between Athens and the Peloponnesians near Skapte Hyle in Thrace. Xenophon wrote at Skyllos in Elis. The poet Bakchylides (from Keos) wrote in the Peloponnesos. Plutarch, On Exile The Greek Period 148 Peace Only great peace brings wealth to men and a flowering of honey-throated song, and to the gods ox-thighs burning and long-haired sheep flaming yellow on the sculpted altars, and to the young a love of wrestling and the flute and Bakchic dance. In the iron-covered shield the brown spider hangs his web. The sharpened spear and double-edge sword are flaked with rust. The noise of the brass trumpet is dead, and the honey of our dawnsleep is not dried from our eyelids. Streets clamor with happy outdoor banquets, and the lovely hymns sung by children spring like fire up into the bright air. The West Wind On his farmland Eudemos built this sanctuary to the Zephyr, kind breeze among the harsh gales. When the farmer prayed, the wind awoke briskly helping him winnow good wheat from the chaff. Herakles I must not sing of you now, O Pythian Apollo (though the lovely-throned Urania sent me a gold ship from Pieria cargoed with famous hymns) if you are hunting far by the flowering bank of the Hebros 149 Bakchylides or delighting in the soft song of the long-necked swan. Before you come to cull the bloom of paeans which the Delphian dancers chant loudly by your shining temple, we will sing of Amphitryon’s brave son who fled the city of Oichalia gutted by flames; who came to that wavewashed cape, where he was sacrificing nine deep-roaring bulls to the Kenaian Zeus of the broad clouds, a pair to the seagod who lifts salt waters and punishes earth, and a never-yoked high-horned ox to chaste Athena of the fierce glance, when a dread wargod wove a terrible poisonous weapon of blood for Deianeira : she had learned the sorrowful news that the fearless son of Zeus was sending white-armed Iole to his luminous rooms to become his bride. O doomed insane wife! Why did she plot disaster! Relentless envy drove her against the black veil of future on that day, on the flowering bank of Evenos, she took the star-cursed gift from the centaur Nessos.* Idas Wins Marpessa One day in spacious Sparta goldhaired women * The centaur’s blood poisoned by Herakles’ arrow in which jealous Deianeira dipped the shirt of her husband, Herakles, thinking it a love potion; the garment caused Herakles’ death and her suicide. The Greek Period 150 danced to a song when courageous Idas led Marpessa of the violet braids to his own rooms after eluding death. Poseidon the sealord gave him a chariot and horses equal to the wind, and sent him to the handsome city of Pleuron and to the son of Ares of the gold shield...