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if a share of these fine things comes to you. Mortal aims befit mortal men. But for you, Phylacidas, flourishing twofold excellence is recorded at the Isthmus, and at Nemea for both you and Pytheas in the pancratium. But my heart
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cannot taste songs without telling of the race of Aeacus. I have come with the Graces for the sons of Lampon
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to this well-governed city. If Aegina turns her steps to the clear road of god-given deeds, then do not grudge
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to mix for her in song a boast that is fitting recompense for toils. In heroic times, too, fine warriors gained fame, and they are celebrated with lyres and flutes in full-voiced harmonies
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for time beyond reckoning. Heroes who are honored by the grace of Zeus provide a theme for skilled poets:
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among the Aetolians the brave sons of Oeneus are worshipped with shining sacrifices; in Thebes the horseman Iolaus has his honor, and Perseus in Argos, and the spearman Castor together with Polydeuces by the streams of Eurotas.
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But in Oenone the honors belong to the great-hearted spirits
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of Aeacus and his sons. Twice in battles they sacked the city of the Trojans: the first time following Heracles, the second time the sons of Atreus. Now, drive me into the air! Tell me, who killed Cycnus, and who Hector,
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and the fearless commander of the Ethiopians, bronze-armed Memnon? Who wounded noble Telephus with his spear by the banks of Caïcus?
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Men whose voices name the outstanding island of Aegina as their fatherland, built long ago
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as a tower for lofty excellence to ascend. My swift tongue has many arrows, to shout the praises of these heroes. And now the city of Aias, Salamis, could testify that she was saved by her sailors in Ares’ confrontation
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in the destructive storm sent by Zeus,
