Sing, Erinna! - Vol. 1 Ch. 116.5 - Volume Extras
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The historical Erinna's poems for Baucis (warning: don't read if you'd prefer to have your feelings about the manga stay as they are):
… the rising moon …
… falling leaves …
… waves spinning on a mottled shore …
…and those game, Baucis, remember?
Two white horses, four frenzied feet – and one Tortoise
to your hare: ‘Caught you,’ I cried, ‘You’re Mrs Tortoise now.’
But when your turn came at last to catch the catcher
you raced on far beyond us, out from the great shell
of our smoke-filled yard…
… Baucis, these tears are your embers
and my memorial, traces glowing in my heart,
now all that we once shared has turned to ash …
… as girls
we played weddings with our dolls, brides in our soft beds,
or sometimes I was ‘mother’ allotting dawn wool
to the women, calling for you to help spin out
the thread …
…and our terror (remember?) of Mormo
the monster – big ears, long tongue, forever flapping,
her frenzy on all fours, those changing shapes – a trap
for girls who had lost their way …
… But when you set sail
for a man’s bed, Baucis, you let it slip away,
forgot the lessons you had learnt from your ‘mother’
in those far-off days – no, never forgot; that thief
Desire stole all memory away…
… My lost friend,
here is my lament: I can’t bear that dark death-bed,
can’t bring myself to step outside my door, won’t look
on your stone face, won’t cry or cut my hair for shame …
But Baucis this crimson grief
is tearing me in two …
… falling leaves …
… waves spinning on a mottled shore …
…and those game, Baucis, remember?
Two white horses, four frenzied feet – and one Tortoise
to your hare: ‘Caught you,’ I cried, ‘You’re Mrs Tortoise now.’
But when your turn came at last to catch the catcher
you raced on far beyond us, out from the great shell
of our smoke-filled yard…
… Baucis, these tears are your embers
and my memorial, traces glowing in my heart,
now all that we once shared has turned to ash …
… as girls
we played weddings with our dolls, brides in our soft beds,
or sometimes I was ‘mother’ allotting dawn wool
to the women, calling for you to help spin out
the thread …
…and our terror (remember?) of Mormo
the monster – big ears, long tongue, forever flapping,
her frenzy on all fours, those changing shapes – a trap
for girls who had lost their way …
… But when you set sail
for a man’s bed, Baucis, you let it slip away,
forgot the lessons you had learnt from your ‘mother’
in those far-off days – no, never forgot; that thief
Desire stole all memory away…
… My lost friend,
here is my lament: I can’t bear that dark death-bed,
can’t bring myself to step outside my door, won’t look
on your stone face, won’t cry or cut my hair for shame …
But Baucis this crimson grief
is tearing me in two …
‘’1. This portrait was made with delicate hands; Prometheus my good friend,
There are people with skill equal to your too.
Anyway, if whoever drew this girl so-true-to-life,
Had added speech, Argathrchis would be complete.
2.
My gravestone, my Sirens, and mourning urn,
Who holds Hades’ meager ashes,
Say to those who pass by my tomb ‘farewell’,
Both those from my town, and those from other states.
Also, that this grave holds me, a bride. Say also this,
That my father called me Baucis, and that my family
Was from Tenos, so that they may know, and that my friend
Erinna engraved this epitaph on my tomb.
3.
I am the tomb of Baucis, a young bride, and as you pass
The much lamented grave-stone you may say to Hades:
‘Hades, you are malicious’. When you look, the beautiful letters
will tell of the most cruel fate of the Baucis,
how her father-in-law lit the girl’s funeral pyre
with the pine-torches over which Hymen sang.
And you, Hymen, changed the tuneful song of weddings
Into the mournful sound of lamentations.
"A Hexameter"
4.
We came to mighty Demeter, nine
Young girls, all wearing our beautiful clothes,
Wearing our beautiful clothes, and even bright necklaces
Sawn from ivory, just like the light of the sun… ’’
There are people with skill equal to your too.
Anyway, if whoever drew this girl so-true-to-life,
Had added speech, Argathrchis would be complete.
2.
My gravestone, my Sirens, and mourning urn,
Who holds Hades’ meager ashes,
Say to those who pass by my tomb ‘farewell’,
Both those from my town, and those from other states.
Also, that this grave holds me, a bride. Say also this,
That my father called me Baucis, and that my family
Was from Tenos, so that they may know, and that my friend
Erinna engraved this epitaph on my tomb.
3.
I am the tomb of Baucis, a young bride, and as you pass
The much lamented grave-stone you may say to Hades:
‘Hades, you are malicious’. When you look, the beautiful letters
will tell of the most cruel fate of the Baucis,
how her father-in-law lit the girl’s funeral pyre
with the pine-torches over which Hymen sang.
And you, Hymen, changed the tuneful song of weddings
Into the mournful sound of lamentations.
"A Hexameter"
4.
We came to mighty Demeter, nine
Young girls, all wearing our beautiful clothes,
Wearing our beautiful clothes, and even bright necklaces
Sawn from ivory, just like the light of the sun… ’’
