Learning Greek

For the past few years, off and on, I've been learning to translate ancient Greek. (What got me interested in this was the classic movie THE BROWNING VERSION, with Michael Redgrave teaching Greek in a British boarding school.) I've been using a textbook from the "Teach Yourself" series.  I wish I had more exercises to do, though each lesson does have a supplement at the website tyancientgreek.org.

I've translated some impressive poetry, like this epigram attributed to an aging courtesan dedicating her mirror to Aphrodite:

I, Lahis, who laughed haughtily at the
Young men of Greece gathered at my front door,

Dedicate this mirror to you, o Paphian; 
For what I once was I can no longer see, and what I now see I don’t want to.

I've also been translating parts of Sophocles' PROMETHEUS BOUND, a play about the titan Prometheus who stole fire from Olympus and gave it to mankind, prompting Zeus to have the titans Might and Mayhem seize him and have Hephaistos chain him to a rocky mountain.

Might:

To this distant end of the earth we’ve come,

This Scythian tract, this desolate wilderness.

Hephaistos, you must heed your father’s words,

And bind the wrongdoer fast

To these lofty rocks above the cliffs

With fetters of unbreakable steel.

For he stole your glory, the flame that all arts come from,

And bestowed it on mortals.  For such an offence

He must repay the Gods, be certain, 

And so learn to accept Zeus’ majesty, 

And forsake his mortal-loving ways.

Hephaistos:

Might and Mayhem, Zeus’ command you’ve surely

Fulfilled completely, and that’s that for you,

But I don’t have the heart to bind

A divine kinsman to this stormy chasm.

Yet utter necessity forces resolve into me:

For to ignore one’s father’s will is dire.

High-minded son of wise Themis, I’ll bind you,

Both of us unwilling, with inextricable 

Brazen chains, to this deserted crag,

Where you shall hear no man nor see mortal form,

But be scorched by the sun’s radiant flame,

Leathering your shiny skin;  you’ll welcome

Night’s embroidered cloak hiding the light,

Then the morning sun scattering the hoar-frost;

Without end will your ill burden distress you,

For he who can free you is not yet born!

In a later scene Zeus (who overthrew his father Kronos, who had overthrown his own father Uranos) sends Hermes to warn Prometheus about spreading rumors that Zeus too will be overthrown:

Hermes:

Hey, Bright Boy, bitterest of the bitter, 

I’m talking to you, who wronged the gods 

By favoring the mortals and stealing fire!

Father Zeus orders you to speak about

That marriage by which, you boast,

He’ll lose his power; and Prometheus,

Don’t speak in vague riddles, but talk straight in 

Every detail, and don’t force me to return here.

You know such behavior won’t soften Zeus.

Prometheus:

For a lackey of the gods, your words are

Haughty indeed and full of arrogance!

You’re a new god with new power, and in your dreams

You’ll dwell in your citadel free of woe;

Yet haven’t I seen the first ruler usurped 

By a second, the second by a third? 

I perceive that the third one, now ruling,

Can expect a most shameful, quick fall too.

Surely you don’t expect me to cower

In terror before the new gods?  There’s little, 

Nay, no fear left in me.  Hurry back 

The way you came, for you shall learn nothing 

Of the things you question me about!