After Sappho, fragment 55
You may be rich, but money’s trash
the day your flesh is changed to ash.
No one will mourn when you depart,
because you paid no heed to art —
the only coin immune to rust.
Your punishment, when you are dust
and our remembrance swiftly fades:
to stray, unloved, among the shades.
Sappho, Fragment 55
κατθάνοισα δὲ κείσῃ οὐδέ ποτα μναμοσύνα σέθεν ἔσσετ' οὐδὲ πόθα εἰς ὔστερον• οὐ γὰρ πεδέχῃς βρόδων
τῶν ἐκ Πιερίας• ἀλλ' ἀφάνης κἀν Ἀίδα δόμῳ φοιτάσεις πεδ' ἀμαύρων νεκύων ἐκπεποταμένα.
