Horace, Odes 2.16 25-32

“The spirit which is happy for a single day

Has learned not to worry about what remains

And tempers bitter tastes with a gentle smile—

Nothing is blessed through and through.

A swift death stole famed Achilles away;

Drawn-out old age wore Tithonos down.

Perhaps some hour will hand to me

Whatever it has refused to you.”

laetus in praesens animus quod ultra est

oderit curare et amara lento

temperet risu; nihil est ab omni

parte beatum.

abstulit clarum cita mors Achillem,

longa Tithonum minuit senectus,

et mihi forsan, tibi quod negarit,

porriget hora.

Bacchylides, Processionals fr. 11-12

“There is one border, a single path to happiness for mortals—

When a person is able to keep a heart free of grief

Until the end of life. Whoever keeps a ten thousand

Affairs in their thoughts

Whoever tortures their heart

Night and day over what may come,

Has toil which brings no profit.”

εἷς ὅρος, μία βροτοῖσίν ἐστιν εὐτυχίας ὁδός,

θυμὸν εἴ τις ἔχων ἀπενθῆ δύναται

διατελεῖν βίον· ὃς δὲ μυρία

μὲν ἀμφιπολεῖ φρενί,

τὸ δὲ παρ᾿ ἆμάρ τε <καὶ> νύκτα μελλόντων

χάριν αἰὲν ἰάπτεται

κέαρ, ἄκαρπον ἔχει πόνον.

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