You, children, be zealous for the beautiful gifts of the violetlapped Muses

and for the clear songloving lyre.

But my skin once soft is now taken by old age,

my hair turns white from black.

And my heart is weighed down and my knees do not lift,

that once were light to dance as fawns.

I groan for this. But what can I do?

A human being without old age is not a possibility.

There is the story of Tithonos, loved by Dawn with her arms of roses

and she carried him off to the ends of the earth

when he was beautiful and young. Even so was he gripped

by white old age. He still has his deathless wife.

Translation by Carson (2005)