Classic Poem

Yet of all that Hellas holds,
None, Hiero vivid in praise,
Could claim that a man
Outgave you in gold to Apollo.
All but the men fed fat with envy
Hail you high, you the commander
Loved by gods, adept horseman
Sceptred under the Lord of Laws;
You share in the verve of the violet Muse,
And brandished once a warrior's fist;
Though now you look on the luck
Of a moment calmly,
Knowing the life
Of man is brief.

Still, wily hope
Will burrow through hearts
That are born for a day.
So Lord Apollo, true to his mark,
Gave warning to Admetus:
" Men must breed twin minds;
Consider tomorrow's sun your last —
And think you'll live out fifty years,
Each one steeped in wealth.
But strike your stand in piety:
There all the gain and gladness lies."

Men of mind will grasp my meaning.
Pouring air flows pure.
The briny sea rots not.
Gold delights in luster.
Not so the law of man:
Once time has snapped his roots,
The flower of young resilience goes.
Yet flesh fails and the blaze remains;
Virtue lives on the Muses' breath.
Hiero, form of fortune
Blooming out to men,
Your clear achievement
Wears no seal of silence:
They will resound your splendor of truth,
And resound too the rolling finesse
Of the nightingale of Ceos.