Muscular son of Sparta,

O boy of surpassing beauty.

It was you who ensnared the affections

of Shining Apollo of the silver bow.

His love you happily requited,

O man of strength and will.

It was you who leaned the arts

of Far-shooting Apollo on that discus field.

The jealousy of winds you inspired,

O unhappy one of two lovers.

It was you who scorned the advances

of Zephyrus in favor of your Lord Apollo.

Retribution had to be taken,

O star-crossed beloved of the Bright one.

It was you the discus came for

Thrown off its course by highest wind.

Despairing son of Zeus,

O Lord of surpassing beauty.

It was you whose heart was broken

As your own thrown disc cracked the skull

of your lover Hyacinthus.

Not all was lost that fateful day,

O creator of things fair and delightful.

It was you who made a mortal son of Lykrugos

immortal with your art,

his petals anew you stained with tears:

Ai, Ai.

Alas, alas, my love.