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Appendix I: Text and Translation of Choirosphaktes' poem
(Another anacreontic poem of the same *Magistros* Leo) on the bath built by the emperor Leo in the imperial palace
The music of instruments resounds throughout the city. Why? Let him who has recognised say, and if he knows, let him speak. The emperor Leo in his works has surpassed the imagination of Daedalus. I shall strike the shrill lyre in a pounding dance rythm. Joyful citizens, come to the sight, behold these bath-houses, strike up the music of instruments. The edifice is aglow like the vualt of heaven. All around you will see gilded stones sprouting at the tips, with statues now too.
He who has drawn glory by wit and wisdom now finishes off his heroic arduous toils.
As you go towards the doors, a long entrance-hall will envelop you, from which charm shines forth, the worth of sculpture. There as you look you will behold the shapes of venerable old men, the raging fury and slaughter of wrath raising wars. ... As you see the gilded work of dome and conch in the delightful colonnaded corridors, you will have to screen the rays of your eyes to safeguard them.
Streams of heat-radiating water pour forth, pure and rich. O city, be here with me.
See especially the sight of the earth-ruler on the proconch wearing a rosy appearance. Words cannot describe the beauty. O sisterly one, who has painted you and set you up to be gazed at like a luxuriant shoot? After this scene, he has drawn the forms of rivers, with fiercely-turned faces, and inscibed metrical encomia.
Write divine doctrines, O youths; rain precipitates from godlike mouths.
You will see the catching of fish with rod, net, and weel; on every island you will behold a delightful spread. Another strange and delightful wonder is that the beauties of the flowing springs take on many forms in their appearance, and wear a girlish grace. The noise of the doors with artful contrivance sends out a musical song; the song says, "Glory of rulers, O Basileus, King". At the lord's feet, among green fronds, bathes a sweet warbling bird, murmuring lyrical songs.
Reject all babble of false words; Leo has now gathered all rhetorical eloquence.
The flow of countless waters sends forth the melody of instruments, imperceptibly, without any players, weaving the emperor's praise. The serpent creeps up in his wisdom, the lion roars loudly, the sapphire-coloured crane delights the ear with its cry. Then a tall young sapling bears a melodious crop, gracefully tinkling among golden leaves. Under the centre glitters a hot, hot swelling current of waters in an octaconch, no small cure for the sick.
Let the revolving axis of heaven rejoice that Leo perceives the unalterable threads of the bearers of light.
O friends, it is an awesome sight. A griffin's breath projects a blazing jet, terryfing the mortal nature of those present. The manifold beauty of the bath has the grace of healing; it takes away men's sickness and grants strenght. The vitality of the limbs, drawing from hot liquid drops, has found vigour returning, and is youthful for years to come.
The guardian of rhetoric has excelled himself; begone, O forgers of artless words.
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