To Demetrius. (358/59)
Pindar somewhere says that he is a guardian of golden apples, but that these belong to the Muses and that he distributes them now to some, now to others; and I myself, for my part, think that I am only talking nonsense, while to you I appear to be begetting things of gold. And now you have enrolled us, on the strength of the laments we composed, among the poets of tragedy. See whether Sophocles will tolerate this from you, or any other of those who share his craft. But since I cannot stop you from desiring what is mine, I am sending you those of my works that you ask for, among them the pieces in which I have discoursed about a fee and praise Strategius, and indeed the contest as well. And so there comes to you, as a fourth, the eulogy of ours, of which, at any rate in the matters that the law permitted, the city heard. The public festival was a task such as the many, in fleeing it, take refuge in the cities.
**To Demetrius** (358/59)
Pindar somewhere claims to be the guardian of golden apples, and that these belong to the Muses, who distribute them now to one person, now to another. I, for my part, consider myself to be talking nonsense, yet to you I appear to produce golden work. And now, on the basis of my lamentations, you have enrolled me among the tragic poets. Consider whether Sophocles, or any other practitioner of his art, will stand for that. But since I cannot stop you from craving my writings, I am sending you the pieces you request: my discourse on fees, my encomium of Strategius, and indeed my oration for the contest as well. And so a fourth piece now comes to you — the speech in praise of our city, which the city itself heard delivered, at least insofar as the laws permitted. The festival, meanwhile, was an affair from which the masses flee — taking refuge in the cities.
Pindar somewhere says that he is a guardian of golden apples, but that these belong to the Muses and that he distributes them now to some, now to others; and I myself, for my part, think that I am only talking nonsense, while to you I appear to be begetting things of gold. And now you have enrolled us, on the strength of the laments we composed, among the poets of tragedy. See whether Sophocles will tolerate this from you, or any other of those who share his craft. But since I cannot stop you from desiring what is mine, I am sending you those of my works that you ask for, among them the pieces in which I have discoursed about a fee and praise Strategius, and indeed the contest as well. And so there comes to you, as a fourth, the eulogy of ours, of which, at any rate in the matters that the law permitted, the city heard. The public festival was a task such as the many, in fleeing it, take refuge in the cities.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.