Olympian Odes (2.95-5.5)

than Theron. But praise is confronted by greed, which is not accompanied by justice, but stirred up by depraved men, eager to babble and to bury the fine deeds of noble men. Since the sand of the shore is beyond all counting,

who could number all the joys that Theron has given others?

I pray that I may be pleasing to the hospitable sons of Tyndareus and to Helen of the beautiful hair while I honor renowned Acragas by raising my song in praise of Theron’s victory at Olympia, won by the choicest of horses with untiring feet. With this in view the Muse stood beside me when I found a shining new manner

of fitting the splendid voice of the victory procession to the Dorian sandal.

For the garlands twined around his hair exact from me this sacred debt, to blend harmoniously for the son of Aenesidamus the embroidered song of the lyre and the cry of the flutes with the arrangement of words, and Pisa bids me to raise my voice— Pisa, from which

god-fated songs come often to men,

for anyone over whose brow the strict Aetolian judge of the Greeks tosses up around his hair the gray-green adornment of olive leaves, fulfilling the ancient behests of Heracles; the olive which once the son of Amphitryon brought from the shady springs of the Danube,

to be the most beautiful memorial of the Olympian contests,

when he had persuaded the Hyperborean people, the servants of Apollo, with speech. With trustworthy intentions he was entreating them for a shady plant, to be shared by all men and to be a garland of excellence in the grove of Zeus which is hospitable to all. For already the altars had been consecrated to his father, and in mid-month the full

evening’s eye shone brightly, the Moon on her golden chariot,

and he had established the consecrated trial of the great games along with the four years’ festival beside the sacred banks of the Alpheus. But Pelops’ sacred ground was not flourishing with beautiful trees in the valleys below the hill of Cronus. He saw that this garden, bare of trees, was exposed to the piercing rays of the sun.

And so his spirit prompted him to travel to the land

of the Danube, where the horse-driving daughter of Leto had received him when he came from the mountain-glens and deep, winding valleys of Arcadia ; through the commands of Eurystheus, compulsion from his father urged him on the quest of the doe with the golden horns, which once Taÿgete

had inscribed as a sacred dedication to Artemis who sets things right.

Pursuing that doe he had also seen that land beyond the cold blasts of Boreas; there he had stood and marvelled at the trees, and sweet desire for them possessed him, to plant them around the boundary-line of the horse-racing ground with its twelve courses. And now in his kindness he comes regularly to this festival of ours, together with the godlike

twin sons of deep-waisted Leda.

For Heracles, when he ascended to Olympus, assigned to them the ordering of the marvellous contest of men, the contest in excellence and in the driving of swift chariots. And so my spirit somehow urges me to say that glory has come to the Emmenidae and to Theron through the dispensation of the sons of Tyndareus with their fine horses, because that family

comes to them with the most hospitable feasting-tables of any mortal men,

observing the rites of the blessed gods with pious thoughts. If water is best and gold is the most honored of all possessions, so now Theron reaches the farthest point by his own native excellence; he touches the pillars of Heracles. Beyond that the wise cannot set foot; nor can the unskilled set foot

beyond that. I will not pursue it; I would be a fool.

Charioteer of the thundercloud with untiring feet, highest Zeus! Your Seasons, whirling to the embroidered notes of the lyre’s song, sent me as a witness of the most lofty games. When friends are successful, the noble immediately smile on

the sweet announcement. Son of Cronus, you who hold Aetna, the wind-swept weight on terrible hundred-headed Typhon, receive, for the sake of the Graces, this Olympic victory-procession,

this most enduring light of widely powerful excellence. For the procession comes in honor of Psaumis’ chariot; Psaumis, who, crowned with the olive of Pisa, hurries to rouse glory for Camarina. May the god be gracious to his future prayers, since I praise a man who is most eager in the raising of horses,

who rejoices in being hospitable to all guests, and whose pure thoughts are turned towards city-loving peace. I will not stain my words with lies. Perseverance is what puts men to the test,

and what saved the son of Clymenus

from the contempt of the Lemnian women. He won the foot race in bronze armor, and said to Hypsipyle as he went to take the garland: “Such is my swiftness;

and I have hands and heart to match. Even on young men gray hair often grows, even before the expected age.”

Daughter of Ocean, with a smiling heart receive the sweet bloom of lofty excellence and Olympian garlands, the gifts of Psaumis and of his mule car team with untiring feet.

Psaumis who, exalting your city, Camarina, which cares for its people,

honored the six double altars, at the greatest festivals of the gods, with the sacrifice of oxen and in contests on the fifth day,