In a Lydian voice she said, 'Come quick,I will plug up your tight asshole.'And she beat my balls with a branchas though I were a scapegoat. I tripped,and stuck on the gallows I suffereda double torture: a branch lashedmy chest; someone wet me with cowshit and my ass stank. Beetles came, drawnby the stinking gook like summer flies.They fell on me, shoved, filing their teethon my bones. The invasion complete,I ached more than a Pygelian plague.

I will abandon my agonized soul to viceif instantly you don't send a medimnos of barley. From the flour I'll make a brewto drink as medicine against my sorrows.

Never yet has the blind god, Wealth,come to my house and said 'Hipponax,I'm giving you thirty silver minasand much more.' No, he's far too tight.

Hold my coat while I belt Boupalos in the eye.I am ambidextrous and never miss a punch.

Hermes, dear Hermes, Maia's son from Kyllene,I pray to you, for I'm frozen and I shiver.Give Hipponax a woolen overcoat, a Persiancape, some sandals and felt slippers,and sixty gold staters for his inner wall.Give Hipponax a woolen overcoat. I tell you, his teeth are rattling in his head!But from you never even a shabby coat against the very coldor slippers to keep my toes from freezing.

O Muse, sing to me of that sea-monster, Eurymedon's son,whose stomach, like a knife, fattens on all it finds.Tell of his dreadful end, and how by public orderthe town will stone him to death beside the sterile sea.