3
For indeed, once the ruler of horse-taming Lydia,
3
Croesus—when Zeus was bringing about the decreed fate, and Sardis was being sacked by the Persian army—Croesus was protected by the god of the golden lyre,
3
Apollo. When he had come to that unexpected day,
3
Croesus had no intention of waiting any longer for the tears of slavery. He had a pyre built before his bronze-walled courtyard,
3
and he mounted the pyre with his dear wife and his daughters with beautiful hair;
3
they were weeping inconsolably. He raised his arms to the steep sky
3
and shouted, overweening deity, where is the gratitude of the gods? Where is lord Apollo?
3
The palace of Alyattes falls into ruins countless
3
city the Pactolus whirling with [gold runs red with blood],
3
women are brutally led out of the well-built halls.
3
What was hated is loved. To die is sweetest. So he spoke, and he bid the slave with the delicate step to kindle the wooden structure. His daughters cried out,
3
and threw their arms out towards their mother;
3
for death is most hateful to mortals when it is right before their eyes. But when the flashing force of terrible fire began to shoot through the wood,
3
Zeus set a dark rain-cloud over it, and began to quench the golden flame.
3
Nothing is unbelievable which is brought about by the gods' ambition. Then Apollo, born on Delos, brought the old man to live among the Hyperboreans,
3
along with his slender-ankled daughters,
3
because of his piety, since of all mortals he sent the greatest gifts to holy Pytho. And of all mortal men who live in Greece, not one, o greatly-praised Hieron, will be willing
3
to say that he has sent more gold than you to Loxias. Every man who does not fatten himself with envy may praise a warlike man, a lover of horses,
3
who has the scepter of Zeus,
3
and a share of the violet-haired Muses. once ephemeral you consider; [life is] brief.
3
But winged hope loosens the wits of ephemeral creatures. Lord Apollo said to the son of Pheres: Being a mortal, you must cultivate twin
