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Heraclitus

by Callimachus (c. 310-240 B.C.)

They told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead,

They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed.

I wept as I remembered how often you and I

Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky.

And now that thou art lying, my dear old Carian guest,

A handful of gray ashes, long, long ago at rest,

Still are thy pleasant voices, thy nightingales, awake;

For Death, he taketh all away, but them he cannot take.

Αυτή η υπέροχη μετάφραση του William Cory (1823–1892) και ιδιαίτερα οι στίχοι με χρώμα magenta, μου θυμίζουν πλέον ανεξίτηλα τον λατρεμένο μου πατέρα, που πρόσφατα έπαψε να υπάρχει ως φυσική παρουσία ..