To him who, purified, would break this vicious round
And breathe once more the air of heaven - greeting !
There in the courts of Hades wilt thou find
Leftward a beckoning cypress, tall and bright,
From out whose roots doth flow the waters of Oblivion.
Approach it not : guard thou thy thirst awhile.
For on the other hand - and further - wells
From bottomless pool the limpid stream of Memory.
Cool, full of refreshment. To its guardians cry thus :
"I am the child of earth and starry sky :
Know that I too am heavenly - but parched !
I perish : give then and quickly that clear draught
Of ice-cold Memory !' And from that fountainhead divine
straightway they'll give thee drink; quaffing the which
Thou with the other heroes eternally shalt rule.
Translated from the Greek;
Translator anonymous
