If you irritate the wound, Perikles, no manin our city will enjoy the festivities.These men were washed under by the thudding seawaves,and the hearts in our chest are swollen with pain.Yet against this incurable misery, the godsgive us the harsh medicine of endurance.Sorrows come and go, friend, and now they strike usand we look with horror on the bleeding sores,yet tomorrow others will mourn the dead. I tell you,hold back your feminine tears and endure.
-Archilochos
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