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“My nurse was the island of Tyros, and Attic land of Syrian Gadara was my birthplace. I was sired by Eukrates —I, Meleagros, friend of the Muses and first to waken to the Graces of Menippos. A Syrian? What if I am? Stranger, we all live in one country: the world. Out of one chaos were all men born. In my old age I traced these letters on the slab before my grave, knowing that old men are neighbors to death. Passerby, wish me well, the talkative old man, and you may also reach a loquacious old age.” — Meleagros
My nurse was the island of Tyros,
and Attic land of Syrian Gadara was
my birthplace. I was sired by Eukrates
—I, Meleagros, friend of the Muses
and first to waken to the Graces of
Menippos. A Syrian? What if I am?
Stranger, we all live in one country: the world.
Out of one chaos were all men born.
In my old age I traced these letters
on the slab before my grave,
knowing that old men are neighbors to death.
Passerby, wish me well, the talkative old man,
and you may also reach a loquacious old age.