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nurture for men golden, conspicuous fame throughout their lives—for a select few—and when the dark cloud of death covers them,
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the undying glory of their fine deed is left behind, secure in its destiny.
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You too have attained this at Nemea, son of Lampon;
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your hair crowned with garlands of flourishing blossoms, [you walk] the lofty streets of the city [of Aeacus, so that] your ancestral island [teems] with gentle-voiced victory processions, in which mortals delight,
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revealing your overweening strength in the pancratium. Kindly Aegina, daughter of the whirling river,
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[the son of Cronus]
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gave you great honor, shining [your new victory?] like a torch among all Greeks. And a proud maiden [sings the praises of your strength?]
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often lightly springing with her feet like a carefree fawn on the flowery [hills]
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with her far-famed [companions] who live nearby.
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The maidens wear garlands of crimson blossoms and rushes, the native decoration, and sing of your [child],
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mistress of the all-hospitable [land], and of rosy-armed Endaïs, who bore [godlike Peleus] and the helmeted warrior Telamon, having gone to bed with Aeacus.
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Of their battle-rousing sons I shall sing, and of swift Achilles, and the high-spirited son of beautiful Eriboea, Aias, the shield-bearing hero,
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who stood on the stern of his ship and stopped bold-hearted, bronze [helmeted] Hector in his rush to burn the ships with dread fire,
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at the time when the son of Peleus stirred fierce wrath [in his breast]
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and released the [Dardanians from ruin]. Before they had not left the [many-towered]
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marvellous town of Ilium, but had cowered, dazed by fear, before the fierce battle, when Achilles raged destructively across the plain,
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shaking his murderous spear. But when the fearless son of the violet-garlanded Nereid withdrew from battle,
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—as when the North wind, on the dark-blossoming sea,
