Bibliotheca Polyglotta

Ἠὼς δ᾽ ἠριγένεια φόως θνητοῖσι φέρουσα
ὤρνυτ᾽ ἀπ᾽ Ὠκεανοῖο βαθυρρόου: αὐτὰρ Ἀπόλλων
Ὀγχηστόνδ᾽ ἀφίκανε κιών, πολυήρατον ἄλσος
ἁγνὸν ἐρισφαράγου Γαιηόχου: ἔνθα γέροντα
κνώδαλον εὗρε νέμοντα παρ᾽ ἔξοδον ἕρκεος αὐλῆς.

Apollo inquires about his cattle
184-188 Now Eros the early born was rising
from deep-flowing Ocean, bringing light to men, when Apollo, as he went,
came to Onchestus, the lovely grove and sacred place of the loud-roaring
Holder of the Earth. There he found an old man grazing his beast along
the pathway from his court-yard fence, and the all-glorious Son of Leto
began and said to him.

τὸν πρότερος προσέφη Λητοῦς ἐρικυδέος υἱός:
ὦ γέρον, Ὀγχηστοῖο βατοδρόπε ποιήεντος,
βοῦς ἀπὸ Πιερίης διζήμενος ἐνθάδ᾽ ἱκάνω,
πάσας θηλείας, πάσας κεράεσσιν ἑλικτάς,
ἐξ ἀγέλης: ὁ δὲ ταῦρος ἐβόσκετο μοῦνος ἀπ᾽ ἄλλων
κυάνεος: χαροποὶ δὲ κύνες κατόπισθεν ἕποντο
τέσσαρες, ἠύτε φῶτες, ὁμόφρονες: οἳ μὲν ἔλειφθεν,
οἵ τε κύνες ὅ τε ταῦρος: ὃ δὴ περὶ θαῦμα τέτυκται:
ταὶ δ᾽ ἔβαν ἠελίοιο νέον καταδυομένοιο
ἐκ μαλακοῦ λειμῶνος ἀπὸ γλυκεροῖο νομοῖο.
ταῦτά μοι εἰπέ, γεραιὲ παλαιγενές, εἴ που ὄπωπας
ἀνέρα ταῖσδ᾽ ἐπὶ βουσὶ διαπρήσσοντα κέλευθον.

189-200 Old man, weeder of grassy Onchestus, I am come
here from Pieria seeking cattle, cows all of them, all with curving
horns, from my herd. The black bull was grazing alone away from the
rest, but fierce-eyed hounds followed the cows, four of them, all of one
mind, like men. These were left behind, the dogs and the bull--which is
great marvel; but the cows strayed out of the soft meadow, away from the
pasture when the sun was just going down. Now tell me this, old man born
long ago: have you seen one passing along behind those cows?

τὸν δ᾽ ὁ γέρων μύθοισιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπεν:
ὦ φίλος, ἀργαλέον μέν, ὅσ᾽ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ἴδοιτο,
πάντα λέγειν: πολλοὶ γὰρ ὁδὸν πρήσσουσιν ὁδῖται,
τῶν οἳ μὲν κακὰ πολλὰ μεμαότες, οἳ δὲ μάλ᾽ ἐσθλὰ
φοιτῶσιν: χαλεπὸν δὲ δαήμεναί ἐστιν ἕκαστον:
αὐτὰρ ἐγὼ πρόπαν ἦμαρ ἐς ἠέλιον καταδύντα
ἔσκαπτον περὶ γουνὸν ἀλωῆς οἰνοπέδοιο:
παῖδα δ᾽ ἔδοξα, φέριστε, σαφὲς δ᾽ οὐκ οἶδα, νοῆσαι,
ὅς τις ὁ παῖς, ἅμα βουσὶν ἐυκραίρῃσιν ὀπήδει
νήπιος, εἶχε δὲ ῥάβδον: ἐπιστροφάδην δ᾽ ἐβάδιζεν.
ἐξοπίσω δ᾽ ἀνέεργε, κάρη δ᾽ ἔχεν ἀντίον αὐτῷ.

201-211 Then the old man answered him and said: My son, it is
hard to tell all that one’s eyes see; for many wayfarers pass to and fro
this way, some bent on much evil, and some on good: it is difficult to
know each one. However, I was digging about my plot of vineyard all day
long until the sun went down, and I thought, good sir, but I do not know
for certain, that I marked a child, whoever the child was, that followed
long-horned cattle--an infant who had a staff and kept walking from
side to side: he was driving them backwards way, with their heads toward
him.

φῆ ῥ᾽ ὁ γέρων: ὃ δὲ θᾶσσον ὁδὸν κίε μῦθον ἀκούσας:
οἰωνὸν δ᾽ ἐνόει τανυσίπτερον, αὐτίκα δ᾽ ἔγνω
φηλητὴν γεγαῶτα Διὸς παῖδα Κρονίωνος.
ἐσσυμένως δ᾽ ἤιξεν ἄναξ Διὸς υἱὸς Ἀπόλλων
ἐς Πύλον ἠγαθέην διζήμενος εἰλίποδας βοῦς,
πορφυρέῃ νεφέλῃ κεκαλυμμένος εὐρέας ὤμουσ᾽
ἴχνιά τ᾽ εἰσενόησεν Ἑκηβόλος εἶπέ τε μῦθον:

212-218 So said the old man. And when Apollo heard this report,
he went yet more quickly on his way, and presently, seeing a long-winged
bird, he knew at once by that omen that thief was the child of Zeus the
son of Cronos. So the lord Apollo, son of Zeus, hurried on to goodly
Pylos seeking his shambling oxen, and he had his broad shoulders covered
with a dark cloud. But when the Far-Shooter perceived the tracks, he
cried:

ὦ πόποι, ἦ μέγα θαῦμα τόδ᾽ ὀφθαλμοῖσιν ὁρῶμαι:
ἴχνια μὲν τάδε γ᾽ ἐστὶ βοῶν ὀρθοκραιράων,
ἀλλὰ πάλιν τέτραπται ἐς ἀσφοδελὸν λειμῶνα:
βήματα δ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ἀνδρὸς τάδε γίγνεται οὔτε γυναικὸς
οὔτε λύκων πολιῶν οὔτ᾽ ἄρκτων οὔτε λεόντων:
οὔτε τι Κενταύρου λασιαύχενος ἔλπομαι εἶναι,
ὅς τις τοῖα πέλωρα βιβᾷ ποσὶ καρπαλίμοισιν:
αἰνὰ μὲν ἔνθεν ὁδοῖο, τὰ δ᾽ αἰνότερ᾽ ἔνθεν ὁδοῖο.

219-226 Oh, oh! Truly this is a great marvel that my eyes behold!
These are indeed the tracks of straight-horned oxen, but they are turned
backwards towards the flowery meadow. But these others are not the
footprints of man or woman or grey wolves or bears or lions, nor do I
think they are the tracks of a rough-maned Centaur--whoever it be that
with swift feet makes such monstrous footprints; wonderful are the
tracks on this side of the way, but yet more wonderfully are those on
that.

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