Quotes from Kallimachos

Here Philippos the father buried his son Nikoteles, a child of twelve and his dearest hope.

When I heard you were dead, Heraclitus, tears came, and I remembered how often you and I had talked the sun to bed. Long ago you turned to ashes, my Halicarnassian friend, but your poems, your Nightingales, still live. Hades clutches all things yet can't touch these.

Who are you, O shipwrecked stranger? Leontichos found your corpse on the beach, buried you in this grave and cried thinking of his own hazardous life. For he knows no rest: he too roams over the sea like a gull.

Passerby, do not wish me well with your sour heart. Go away. And I shall be well by your being gone.

They brought me word of your death, Heraklieitos, and I wept for you remembering how often we watched the sun setting as we talked. Dear Halikarnassian friend, you lie elsewhere now and are mere ashes; yet your songs—your nightingales—will live, and never will the underworld, destroying everything, touch them with its deadly hand.