Dear to me is youth, but old age is ever hanging o'er my head, a
burden heavier than Aetna's crags, casting its pall of gloom upon
my eyes. Oh! never may the wealth of Asia's kings tempt me to barter
for houses stored with gold my happy youth, which is in wealth and
poverty alike most fair! But old age is gloomy and deathly; I hate
it; let it sink beneath the waves! Would it had never found its way
to the homes and towns of mortal men, but were still drifting on for
ever down the wind.
(antistrophe 1)
Had the gods shown discernment and wisdom, as mortals count these
things, men would have gotten youth twice over, a visible mark of
worth amongst whomsoever found, and after death would these have retraced
their steps once more to the sun-light, while the mean man would have
had but a single portion of life; and thus would it have been possible
to distinguish the good and the bad, just as sailors know the number
of the stars amid the clouds. But, as it is, the gods have set no
certain boundary 'twixt good and bad, but time's onward roll brings
increase only to man's wealth.