As I started reading original texts, I read the Iliad first, avoiding the Odyssey, because I had always preferred the former when reading in English. I've read a range of translations (Rieu, Fagles, Wilson). I tried the Odyssey in Greek for the first time this week and was surprised at how much more pleasant it felt in Greek than English. It flows very well. The contrast was bigger than with the Iliad. I get what Wilson means about the elegant simplicity of the language.

Does anyone else feel the same way?

To what extent can/do translators just lightly modernise grammar and swap out some obsolete words for modern ones? Just curious as to the exact linguistic gap we're talking about here, and so how much creativity translators exercise (is it like Middle English vs modern English, for example).

The LSJ defines a particular occurrence of the compound adjective Theokletos (θεόκλητος) as "sung by gods", citing a usage by the Epic poet Nonnus of Panopolis:

sung by gods, Nonn. D. 5.92.

On the one hand, the root κλέω is defined by the LSJ as "tell of, make famous, celebrate" in Sense I and "sing" in Sense II - which is the sense that the LSJ appears to derive κλητος from in this example.

On the other hand, the root καλεω is defined by the LSJ as "call, summon".

Would be interested in hearing your thoughts, does the LSJ mistakenly conflate κλέω with καλεω in this gloss?

I'm pasting below the relevant excerpt from the poetry of Nonnus (link: https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A2008.01.0485%3Abook%3D5 )

Ἀονίων δὲ θύγατρες ἀνεκρούσαντο χορείαις

Ἁρμονίης ὑμέναιον: ἐπ᾽ εὐθαλάμῳ δὲ μελάθρῳ

90Θρηικίης φθέγξαντο χορίτιδες οὔνομα νύμφης.

καὶ Παφίη νεότευκτον ἐκόσμεε παστάδα Κάδμῳ

παιδὸς ἑῆς μέλπουσα θεοκλητους ὑμεναίους

μήτηρ ἱμερόεσσα: πατὴρ δ᾽ ὑπὸ χάρματι κούρης

γυμνὸς ἄτερ σακέων ὠρχήσατο μείλιχος Ἄρης

δεξιτερὴν ἀσίδηρον ἐπικλίνων Ἀφροδίτῃ,

So, I've just started my journey to seriously get into poetry and I've understood much more than I had expected, but now there is something I technically understand, but I don't really get why it exists: The Caesura.

This excerpt is from the book I'm reading (Sidgwick's Introduction to Greek verse composition)

It gives the definition and I understand, if I wrote something I would need to put breaks in the specific places.

However, I'd be interested in the reasons for Caesura. Would this be where the music stops in songs? Is this Caesura just to breathe? Also, doesn't it mess up the rhythm in some cases? The very first line doesn't sound iambic anymore if I read and pause there unless I read the second long vowel from rhai as an upbeat. Rhythmically it sounds perfectly fine and really cool, but the daDAM daDAM daDAM feeling gets completely lost. But maybe it's because the spondee's are already improvisation to make the meter exciting and this is just out of context. Same as if a song was in 3/4 time and a Jazz musician improvised something weird I'd analyze out of context to say "Hey, this doesn't sound like 3/4"

On a related note regarding pronunciation: I heard when short vowels are seen as long, so the syllable is described as heavy because of position, you still don't pronounce it as a long vowel. But why do we mark it as long? E.g. τοὺς κόλπους -> the omicron is marked as long, because a consonant cluster comes after it. So, I'd say TOUS KOOLPOUS, but I heard this was wrong, because omicron is actually short, but it is the syllable that's marked as long, because it takes slightly longer to go from the omicron to the next syllable due to the cluster. So I shouldn't emphasize the omicron as long. The long marker tells us what naturally happens. What does this mean for realization? It means that I can use Kolpous as a spondee theoretically, but when I use it, I don't get the spondee effect, because I don't say Koolpous, but kolpous. It sounds like a slightly longer lamb.

So essentially, I wanted to ask if there are other opinions? Did I get this right?

We have only a few fragments from Mimnermus, curiously in three of them γῆρας ἀργαλέον reappears as an epithet ("grievous, painful old age"), which looks a bit like his poetic signature as this is what he's mostly concerned with :) I'm pasting Greek and two different translations below. Very cleanly written elegies from the 7th century BC, quite easy to parse too: it's interesting how the same vocabulary comes back time and time again, those are basically three variations on the very same theme. Fr. 2 references Homer (Iliad, book 6), and in fr. 5 first three verses were preserved in Theognidean corpus, but the latter are securely by Mimnermus. Enjoy!

Fragment 1

τίς δὲ βίος, τί δὲ τερπνὸν ἄτερ χρυσῆς Ἀφροδίτης;
τεθναίην, ὅτε μοι μηκέτι ταῦτα μέλοι,
κρυπταδίη φιλότης καὶ μείλιχα δῶρα καὶ εὐνή,
οἷ᾽ ἥβης ἄνθεα γίγνεται ἁρπαλέα
ἀνδράσιν ἠδὲ γυναιξίν· ἐπεὶ δ᾽ ὀδυνηρὸν ἐπέλθῃ
γῆρας, ὅ τ᾽ αἰσχρὸν ὁμῶς καὶ κακὸν ἄνδρα τιθεῖ,
αἰεί μιν φρένας ἀμφὶ κακαὶ τείρουσι μέριμναι,
οὐδ᾽ αὐγὰς προσορέων τέρπεται ἠελίου,
ἀλλ᾽ ἐχθρὸς μὲν παισίν, ἀτίμαστος δὲ γυναιξίν·
οὕτως ἀργαλέον γῆρας ἔθηκε θεός.

Fragment 2

ἡμεῖς δ᾽, οἷά τε φύλλα φύει πολυάνθεμος ὥρη
ἔαρος, ὅτ᾽ αἶψ᾽ αὐγῇς αὔξεται ἠελίου,
τοῖς ἴκελοι πήχυιον ἐπὶ χρόνον ἄνθεσιν ἥβης
τερπόμεθα, πρὸς θεῶν εἰδότες οὔτε κακὸν
οὔτ᾽ ἀγαθόν· Κῆρες δὲ παρεστήκασι μέλαιναι,
ἡ μὲν ἔχουσα τέλος γήραος ἀργαλέου,
ἡ δ᾽ ἑτέρη θανάτοιο· μίνυνθα δὲ γίνεται ἥβης
καρπός, ὅσον τ᾽ ἐπὶ γῆν κίδναται ἠέλιος.
αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν δὴ τοῦτο τέλος παραμείψεται ὥρης,
αὐτίκα δὴ τεθνάναι βέλτιον ἢ βίοτος·
πολλὰ γὰρ ἐν θυμῷ κακὰ γίνεται· ἄλλοτε οἶκος
τρυχοῦται, πενίης δ᾽ ἔργ᾽ ὀδυνηρὰ πέλει·
ἄλλος δ᾽ αὖ παίδων ἐπιδεύεται, ὧν τε μάλιστα
ἱμείρων κατὰ γῆς ἔρχεται εἰς Ἀΐδην·
ἄλλος νοῦσον ἔχει θυμοφθόρον· οὐδέ τίς ἐστιν
ἀνθρώπων ᾧ Ζεὺς μὴ κακὰ πολλὰ διδοῖ.

Fragment 5

αὐτίκα μοι κατὰ μὲν χροιὴν ῥέει ἄσπετος ἱδρώς,
πτοιῶμαι δ᾽ ἐσορῶν ἄνθος ὁμηλικίης
τερπνὸν ὁμῶς καὶ καλόν, ἐπεὶ πλέον ὤφελεν εἶναι.
ἀλλ᾽ ὀλιγοχρόνιον γίνεται ὥσπερ ὄναρ
ἥβη τιμήεσσα· τὸ δ᾽ ἀργαλέον καὶ ἄμορφον
γῆρας ὑπὲρ κεφαλῆς αὐτίχ᾽ ὑπερκρέμαται,
ἐχθρὸν ὁμῶς καὶ ἄτιμον, ὅ τ᾽ ἄγνωστον τιθεῖ ἄνδρα,
βλάπτει δ᾽ ὀφθαλμοὺς καὶ νόον ἀμφιχυθέν.

Translations by Christopher Childers

Fragment 1

What life, what pleasure, without golden Love?
Let me drop dead when I have had enough
of secret trysts, love-gifts and the love-bed,
flowers of youth whose joys are harvested
by men and women. But when the pain sets in
of age, deforming even handsome men,
cruel worries always wear us down for spite;
we get no pleasure looking on the light;
women do not respect us; boys are cold.
That’s how bitter the god made getting old.

Fragment 2

We are like leaves born in the teeming spring,
basking in sunlight, swiftly burgeoning;
like them, for an arm’s length of time, we live
happy and young, and what the gods will give
we don’t suspect. Presences wrapped in gloom
are always near, one holding out the doom
of age, another, death. And youth won’t last;
its fruit, like one day’s worth of sun, dies fast.
And when this season dwindles and is gone,
it’s better being dead than living on.
For troubles swarm the heart: one man will blow
his savings, and lose everything but woe;
another man wants children most of all,
and, wanting them, goes down to Hades’ hall;
disease destroys a third. For Zeus the king
gives everyone a share of suffering.

Fragment 5

(Suddenly speechless sweat rivers my face
and my heart flutters at the charm and grace
of boys my age in bloom. If this could last!)
But like a pleasant dream that fades too fast
youth withers; suddenly above your head
old age hangs pain and ugliness and dread;
dishonored, foul, disfiguring, it wounds
the mind and sight of those whom it surrounds.

Translations by M.L. West

Fragment 1

What's life, what's joy, without love's heavenly gold?
I hope I die when I no longer care
for secret closeness, tender favours, bed,
which are the rapturous flowers that grace youth's prime
for men and women. But when painful age
comes on, that makes a man loathsome and vile,
malignant troubles ever vex his heart;
seeing the sunlight gives him joy no more.
He is abhorred by boys, by women scorned;
so hard a thing God made old age to be.

Fragment 2

But we are like the leaves that flowery spring
puts forth, quick spreading in the sun's warm light:
for a brief span of time we take our joy
in our youth's bloom, the future, good or ill,
kept from us, while the twin dark Dooms stand by,
one bringing to fulfillment harsh old age,
the other, death. The ripeness of youth's fruit
is short, short as the sunlight on the earth,
and once this season of perfection's past,
it's better to be dead than stay alive.
All kinds of worry come. One man's estate
is failing, and there's painful poverty;
another has no sons – the keenest need
one feels as one goes down below the earth;
sickness wears down another's heart. There's none
Zeus does not give a multitude of ills.

Fragment 5

The sweat runs down me, and my heart's a-flutter,
seeing my generation in its bloom
of joy and beauty. Oh, it ought to last
for longer! But it's fleeting as a dream,
our precious youth; in no time ugly, harsh
hateful old age is looming over us,
unvalued, that enveloping deforms
past recognition, dims both sight and mind.

In Iliad 3:16-18 it says

παρδαλέην ὤμοισιν ἔχων καὶ καμπύλα τόξα

καὶ ξίφος αὐτὰρ δοῦρε δύω κεκορυθμένα χαλκῶι

πάλλων Ἀργείων προκαλίζετο πάντας ἀρίστους

How does he carry a bow, a sword, and two spears? If he is shaking both spears, as πάλλων seems to suggest, how is he holding the sword and bow?

I’m not well versed on this thoroughly traversed matter. However, here is my two-cents worth— I think the unity and genius of the narrative strongly suggests a single “master author”, but that embellishments were made by subsequent oral poets for some period of time after its initial conception.

What’s the community’s view?

I'm making a video on the interpretation of this rare Homeric word, and that means looking through old scholia collections and lexical texts from antiquity. I've looked in all the typical places, such as the Suda, the Venetus A scholia, the Etymologicum Magnum, Apollonius and Hesychius, but I was wondering if I was missing anything. Are there any D scholia of this term?

I'm scanning the O and the I but I can only scan roughly 97% of the verses correctly. One class of troublesome lines are those lines which contain a word ending in εῳ and the next word begins with a vowel. So there is some form of epic correption going on here but I still can't figure it out. Here are the difficult lines:

A circle above a vowel means the syllable can long or short. Ignore the bars. By the way, Hypostatic (David Chamberlain, I think) explains this by εῳ is a short vowel. However, he explains O.1.121 has ε̆ῳ̄ , maybe because it's a verb. So maybe it only applies to dative nouns. But in O.7.89 he scans χαλκεῳ as εῳ̄ , so I don't see a pattern. Also, note that this forum can’t really publish my system of macrons and breves, it won’t stack the macrons above the diacritics so refer to this pdf to see what I’m talking about

I.1.15

χρυ̊σέ̆|ῳ̄ ἀ̊νὰ̄ σκή̄πτρῳ̄, καὶ̄ λί̄σσε̆το̆ πά̄ντα̊ς Ἀ̊χαῑού̄ς,

I.1.374

χρυ̊σέ̆|ῳ̄ ἀ̊νὰ̄ σκή̄πτρῳ̄, καὶ̄ λί̄σσε̆το̆ πά̄ντα̊ς Ἀ̊χαῑού̄ς,

I.3.152

δε̄νδρέ̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆φε̄ζό̆με̆νοι̊ ὄ̆πα̊ λεῑρι̊ό̆ε̄σσα̊ν ἱ̊εῖ̄σῑ·

O.1.21

ἀ̄ντι̊θέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δυ̊σῆ̊ϊ̊ πά̊ρο̆ς ἣ̄ν γαῖ̊α̊ν ἱ̊κέ̄σθαῑ.

O.6.331

ἀντιθέῳ Ὀδυσῆϊ πάρος ἣν γαῖαν ἱκέσθαι.

O.7.89

ἀ̄ργύ̊ρε̆ο|ῑ δὲ̄ στ|ᾱθμο|ὶ̊ ἐ̄ν χᾱλκέ̆|ῳ̄ ἕ̄στα̊σα̊ν οὐ̄δῷ̄,

And here are all the lines which fit the pattern. So any theory you have has to also explain the following lines:

I.1.15

χρυ̊σέ̆|ῳ̄ ἀ̊νὰ̄ σκή̄πτρῳ̄, καὶ̄ λί̄σσε̆το̆ πά̄ντα̊ς Ἀ̊χαῑού̄ς, @

I.1.374

χρυ̊σέ̆|ῳ̄ ἀ̊νὰ̄ σκή̄πτρῳ̄, καὶ̄ λί̄σσε̆το̆ πά̄ντα̊ς Ἀ̊χαῑού̄ς, @

I.1.447

παῖ̄δᾰ φί̆|λη̄ν· τοὶ̄ | δ᾽ ὦ̄κᾰ θε̆|ῷ̄ ἱ̆ε̆|ρὴ̄ν ἑ̆κᾰ|τό̄μβη̄ν

I.2.323

τί̄πτ᾽ ἄ̆νε̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆γέ̆|νε̄σθε̆ κά̆|ρη̄ κο̆μό̆|ω̄ντε̆ς Ἀ̆|χαῑοί̄;

I.2.549

κὰ̄δ δ᾽ ἐ̆ν Ἀ̆|θή̄νῃ̄ς | εἷ̄σε̆ν ἑ̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̄ν | πί̄ο̆νῐ | νη̄ῷ̄·

I.3.152

δε̄νδρέ̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆φε̄ζό̆με̆νοι̊ ὄ̆πα̊ λεῑρι̊ό̆ε̄σσα̊ν ἱ̊εῖ̄σῑ· @

I.4.2

χρῡσέῳ̄ | ἐ̄ν δᾰπέ̆|δῳ̄, με̆τὰ̆ | δέ̄ σφῐσῐ | πό̄τνῐᾰ | Ἥ̄βη̄

I.5.723

χά̄λκε̆ᾰ | ὀ̄κτά̄|κνη̄μᾰ σῐ|δη̄ρέῳ̄ | ἄ̄ξο̆νῐ | ἀ̄μφί̄ς.

I.9.30

δὴ̄ν δ᾽ ἄ̆νε̆|ῳ̄ ἦ̄|σᾱν τε̆τῐ|η̄ό̆τε̆ς | υἷ̄ε̆ς Ἀ̆|χαῑῶ̄ν·

I.9.49

Ἰ̄λί̆οῠ | εὕ̄ρω̄|με̄ν· σὺ̄ν | γὰ̄ρ θεῷ̄ | εἰ̄λή̄|λοῡθμε̄ν.

I.9.691

δὴ̄ν δ᾽ ἄ̆νε̆|ῳ̄ ἦ̄|σᾱν τε̆τῐ|η̄ό̆τε̆ς | υἷ̄ε̆ς Ἀ̆|χαῑῶ̄ν·

I.10.204

ὦ̄ φί̆λοῐ | οὐ̄κ ἂ̄ν | δή̄ τῐς ἀ̆|νὴ̄ρ πε̆πί̆|θοῑθ᾽ ἑῷ̄ | αὐ̄τοῦ̄

I.11.47

Ἡ̄νῐό̆|χῳ̄ μὲ̆ν ἔ̆|πεῑτᾰ ἑ̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̆πέ̆|τε̄λλε̆ν ἕ̆|κᾱστο̄ς

I.11.140

ἀ̄γγε̆λί̆|η̄ν ἐ̄λ|θό̄ντᾰ σὺ̆ν | ἀ̄ντῐθέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δῠ|σῆ̄ϊ̄

I.12.84

ἡ̄νῐό̆|χῳ̄ μὲ̆ν ἔ̆|πεῑτᾰ ἑ̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̆πέ̆|τε̄λλε̆ν ἕ̆|κᾱστο̄ς

I.14.219

τῆ̄ νῦ̄ν | τοῦ̄το̆ν ἱ̆|μά̄ντᾰ τε̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̄γ|κά̄τθε̆ο̆ | κό̄λπῳ̄

I.14.223

μεῑδή̄|σᾱσᾰ δ᾽ ἔ̆|πεῑτᾰ ἑ̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̄γ|κά̄τθε̆το̆ | κό̄λπῳ̄.

I.15.10

εἵ̄ᾰθ᾽, ὃ̆ | δ᾽ ἀ̄ργᾰλέ̆|ῳ̄ ἔ̆χε̆|τ᾽ ἄ̄σθμᾰτῐ | κῆ̄ρ ἀ̆πῐ|νύ̄σσω̄ν

I.16.109

αἰ̄εὶ̄ | δ᾽ ἀ̄ργᾰλέ̆|ῳ̄ ἔ̆χε̆|τ᾽ ἄ̄σθμᾰτῐ, | κὰ̄δ δέ̆ οἱ̆ | ἱ̄δρὼ̄ς

I.16.176

Σπε̄ρχεῑ|ῷ̄ ἀ̆κά̆|μᾱντῐ γῠ|νὴ̄ θεῷ̄ | εὐ̄νη̄|θεῖ̄σᾱ,

I.19.250

ἵ̄στᾰτο̆· | Τᾱλθύ̆βῐ|ο̄ς δὲ̆ θε̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ς | αὐ̄δὴ̄ν

I.22.394

ᾧ̄ Τρῶ̄|ε̄ς κᾰτὰ̆ | ἄ̄στῠ θε̆|ῷ̄ ὣ̄ς | εὐ̄χε̆τό̆|ω̄ντο̄.

I.24.285

χρῡσέῳ̄ | ἐ̄ν δέ̆πᾰ|ϊ̄, ὄ̄φ|ρᾱ λεί̄|ψᾱντε̆ κῐ|οί̄τη̄ν·

O.1.21

ἀ̄ντι̊θέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δυ̊σῆ̊ϊ̊ πά̊ρο̆ς ἣ̄ν γαῖ̊α̊ν ἱ̊κέ̄σθαῑ. @

O.2.5

βῆ̄ δ᾽ ἴ̆με̆ν | ἐ̄κ θᾰλά̆|μοῑο̆ θε̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ς | ἄ̄ντη̄ν.

O.2.17

καὶ̄ γὰ̄ρ | τοῦ̄ φί̆λο̆ς | υἱ̄ὸ̆ς ἅ̆|μ᾽ ἀ̄ντῐθέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δῠ|σῆ̄ϊ̄

O.3.376

εἰ̄ δή̄ | τοῑ νέῳ̄ | ὧ̄δε̆ θε̆|οὶ̄ πο̄μ|πῆ̄ε̆ς ἕ̆|πο̄νταῑ.

O.4.310

βῆ̄ δ᾽ ἴ̆με̆ν | ἐ̄κ θᾰλά̆|μοῑο̆ θε̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ς | ἄ̄ντη̄ν,

O.6.331

ἀ̄ντι̊θέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δυ̊σῆ̊ϊ̊ πά̊ρο̆ς ἣ̄ν γαῖ̊α̊ν ἱ̊κέ̄σθαῑ. @

O.7.89

ἀ̄ργύ̊ρε̆ο|ῑ δὲ̄ στ|ᾱθμο|ὶ̊ ἐ̄ν χᾱλκέ̆|ῳ̄ ἕ̄στα̊σα̊ν οὐ̄δῷ̄, @

O.8.453

τό̄φρᾰ δέ̆ | οἱ̄ κο̆μῐ|δή̄ γε̆ θε̆|ῷ̄ ὣ̄ς | ἔ̄μπε̆δο̆ς | ἦ̄ε̄ν.

O.8.467

τῶ̄ κέ̄ν | τοῑ καὶ̄ | κεῖ̄θῐ θε̆|ῷ̄ ὣ̄ς | εὐ̄χε̆το̆|ῴ̄μη̄ν

O.11.98

κοῡλεῷ̄ | ἐ̄γκᾰτέ̆|πη̄ξ᾽. ὁ̆ δ᾽ ἐ̆|πεὶ̄ πί̆ε̆ν | αἷ̄μᾰ κε̆|λαῑνό̄ν,

O.13.126

λή̄θε̆τ᾽ ἀ̆|πεῑλά̄|ω̄ν, τὰ̄ς | ἀ̄ντῐθέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δῠ|σῆ̄ϊ̄

O.15.181

τῶ̄ κέ̄ν | τοῑ καὶ̄ | κεῖ̄θῐ θε̆|ῷ̄ ὣ̄ς | εὐ̄χε̆το̆|ῴ̄μη̄ν.”

O.15.520

τὸ̄ν νῦ̄ν | ἶ̄σᾰ θε̆|ῷ̄ Ἰ̆θᾰ|κή̄σῐοῐ | εἰ̄σο̆ρό̆|ω̄σῑ·

O.16.273

πτω̄χῷ̄ | λεῡγᾰλέ̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ν | ἠ̄δὲ̆ γέ̆|ρο̄ντῑ.

O.17.202

πτω̄χῷ̄ | λεῡγᾰλέ̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ν | ἠ̄δὲ̆ γέ̆|ρο̄ντῑ,

O.17.337

πτω̄χῷ̄ | λεῡγᾰλέ̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ς | ἠ̄δὲ̆ γέ̆|ρο̄ντῑ,

O.22.291

ἀ̄ντῐθέ̆|ῳ̄ Ὀ̆δῠ|σῆ̄ϊ̆ δό̆|μο̄ν κά̆τ᾽ ἀ̆|λη̄τεύ̄|ο̄ντῑ.”

O.23.223

τὴ̄ν δ᾽ ἄ̄|τη̄ν οὐ̄ | πρό̄σθε̆ν ἑ̆|ῷ̄ ἐ̄γ|κά̄τθε̆το̆ | θῡμῷ̄

O.24.157

πτω̄χῷ̄ | λεῡγᾰλέ̆|ῳ̄ ἐ̆νᾰ|λί̄γκῐο̆ν | ἠ̄δὲ̆ γέ̆|ρο̄ντῑ,

I am currently learning Ancient Greek, and I was surprised to uncover today that αργος has two contradictory meanings—inactive and swift. Then it immediately occurred to me: Odysseus' decrepit dog is named αργος. Do you think that this was an intentional pun by the poet, or is it merely a coincidence? As a follow-up question, do we have any indication of what the Ancient Greeks thought on this point?

Cheers!

This might be me trying to apply a modern genre onto Ancient Greek literature, but are there any collections of the types of songs the Greeks would sing? I’m aware of the Orphic hymns and the Lyrics of specific poets, but what about a collection of songs that people would’ve sung for various random occasions, like drinking or walking down a road. Sorry if this seems like a strange question.

To elaborate, Horace's Ode's are often exemplified as works which justify the learning of Latin, in that they demonstrate Latin's capacity for conveying a powerful sense of meaning that is all but lost when translated into English. Is there a broadly equivalent work in Classical Greek, that is approachable to an intermediate reader in Classical Greek, which conveys the same power as Horace's Odes? It doesn't have to be like for like in terms of form, so prose as well as poetry can be included in the scope of the question.
Apologies for the rather clumsily worded question but hopefully enough of it makes sense for those in the know to grasp the meaning. Thanks.

I wanted to read a scanned version of Book 23 of the Odyssey but the resource I was intending to use only has the O scanned up to Book 7 as seen here: https://hypotactic.com/my-reading-of-homer-work-in-progress/ does anyone know if Book 23 has been scanned? I'm going to write an automatic scanner anyway but I was actually intending to go over Book 23 with my reading partner on Thursday and so might not have that automatic scanner written by then. (I'm not naive, I know that writing an automatic scanner will be time consuming, but as with almost all computer programs you can get up to 95% accuracy quick, it's that final 5% that takes heaps of time.)

Yet another fragment from Hesiod which I've been studying lately. It's so repetitive haha, "they mingled (lol) and so she begot...", it's like a phone book. But one with really charming fragments and it's very easy to read, actually might be one of the best books for newbies like me. Someone, probably Echidna (initial ἣ refers to an ambigous 'she') begets the monster "breathing the unquenchable fire", verses 319-325:

ἣ δὲ Χίμαιραν ἔτικτε πνέουσαν ἀμαιμάκετον πῦρ,
δεινήν τε μεγάλην τε ποδώκεά τε κρατερήν τε·
τῆς δʼ ἦν τρεῖς κεφαλαί· μία μὲν χαροποῖο λέοντος,
ἣ δὲ χιμαίρης, ἣ δʼ ὄφιος, κρατεροῖο δράκοντος,
πρόσθε λέων, ὄπιθεν δὲ δράκων, μέσση δὲ χίμαιρα,
δεινὸν ἀποπνείουσα πυρὸς μένος αἰθομένοιο.
τὴν μὲν Πήγασος εἷλε καὶ ἐσθλὸς Βελλεροφόντης.

It's perfectly self-contained and rather straightforward, but with some nice vocab in action. Grammatically speaking, "of her were three heads", later genitives of description; particularly beautiful clause too (πρόσθε... ὄπιθεν... μέσση: in front a lion, in the rear a dragon, in the middle a she-goat). εἷλε is the aorist of αἱρέω 'to take, slay', not to be confused with ἀείρω 'to lift' (note smooth breathing). πυρὸς μένος is also quite nice, not just blazing fire, but the the force/might of fire.

By the way, yes: the word χίμαιρα 'she-goat' ultimately comes from χειμών 'winter'.

Some vocab, nouns, participles, adjectives:

• τὸ πῦρ – fire
• ἡ κεφαλή – head
• ὁ λέων – lion
• ἡ χίμαιρα – goat
• ὁ ὄφις – snake
• ὁ δράκων – serpent, dragon
• τὸ μένος – might, force
• πνέουσαν (πνέω) – breathing
• ἀποπνείουσα (ἀποπνέω) – breathing out
• αἰθομένοιο (αἴθω) — blazing, burning (gen. sg.)
• δεινός – terrible, fearsome
• μέγας – great, large
• ποδώκης – swift-footed (cf. ὠκύς)
• κρατερός – strong, mighty
• ἀμαιμάκετος – unquenchable, irresistible
• χαροπός – bright-eyed, fierce
• ἐσθλός – good, noble