# Rufinus (poet)

Rufinus (Greek: Ῥουφῖνος; fl. c. 3rd or 4th century AD) was a Greek epigrammatist of the Roman era.

## Quotes
### Anth. Pal. v. 12. Εἰς Προδίκην ἑταίραν

* Λουσάμενοι, Προδίκη, πυκασώμεθα, καὶ τὸν ἄκρατον ἕλκωμεν, κύλικας μείζονας αἰρόμενοι. βαιὸς ὁ χαιρόντων ἐστὶν βίος· εἶτα τὰ λοιπὰ γῆρας κωλύσει, καὶ τὸ τέλος θάνατος.
** Let us bathe, Prodice, and crown out heads; and quaff untempered wine, lifting up greater cups. Short is the season of rejoicing, and then old age comes to forbid it any longer, and at the last death.
*** W. R. Paton, Greek Anthology, i, pp. 234-5
** My youthful love, drain unmixed wine, Joy in the bath and in the wreath, Seize the brief moments that are thine, Old age creeps on; the end is death
*** Evelyn Baring, "The Joy of Youth", Paraphrases and Translations from the Greek (1902), p. 159
** Come let us bathe, and flow’rs for chaplets twine, Then fill great cups and quaff unwater’d wine: Brief is our life of joyance; soon, sweet friend, Old Age will come to thwart and Death to end.
*** J. M. Edmonds, "Short Is the Season", Some Greek Poems of Love and Wine (1939)

### Anth. Pal. v. 48.

* Ὄμματα μὲν χρύσεια, καὶ ὑαλόεσσα παρειή, καὶ στόμα πορφυρέης τερπνότερον κάλυκος, δειρὴ λυγδινέη, καὶ στήθεα μαρμαίροντα, καὶ πόδες ἀργυρέης λευκότεροι Θέτιδος. εἰ δέ τι καὶ πλοκαμῖσι διαστίλβουσιν ἄκανθαι, τῆς λευκῆς καλάμης οὐδὲν ἐπιστρέφομαι.
** Golden are her eyes and her cheeks are crystal, and her mouth more delightful than a red rose. Her neck is of marble and her bosom polished; her feet are whiter than silver Thetis. If here and there the thistle-down glistens amid her dark locks, I heed not the white aftermath.
*** W. R. Paton, Greek Anthology, i, pp. 152-3
** Her eyes are gold, her cheek is hyalite, Her mouth delicious as a dark red rose; Her bosom gleams, her neck is marbly bright, And white as silvery Thetis’ are her toes: In those dark locks some thistle-down she hath? I take no heed of that white aftermath!
*** W. S. Marris, "Grey Hair", The Oxford Book of Greek Verse in Translation (1938)

### Anth. Pal. v. 60.

** The silver-footed maiden was bathing, letting the water fall on the golden apples of her breast, smooth like curdled milk. Her rounded buttocks, their flesh more fluid than water, rolled and tossed as she moved. Her outspread hand covered swelling Eurotas, not the whole but as much as it could.
*** W. R. Paton, Greek Anthology, i, pp. 158-9
** Bathing herself, a girl with silver feet Pours water on a skin whiter than milk; Her young thighs undulate; the little seat Of pleasure shows a few gold hairs of silk.One small hand half conceals her charm of charms; Shyly she crouches there and locks her knees; Slowly she raises her still glistening arms, And archly looks to see if someone sees.
*** Louis Untermeyer, "The Young Bather", An Uninhibited Treasury of Erotic Poetry (1963)

### Anth. Pal. v. 94.

* Ὄμματ᾽ ἔχεις Ἥρης, Μελίτη, τὰς χεῖρας Ἀθήνης, τοὺς μαζοὺς Παφίης, τὰ σφυρὰ τῆς Θέτιδος. εὐδαίμων ὁ βλέπων σε: τρισόλβιος ὅστις ἀκούει: ἡμίθεος δ᾽ ὁ φιλῶν ἀθάνατος δ᾽ ὁ γαμῶν.
** Thou hast Hera’s eyes, Melite, and Athene’s hands, the breasts of Aphrodite [the Paphian], and the feet [ankles] of Thetis. Blessed is he who looks on thee, thrice blessed he who hears thee talk, a demigod who kisses thee, and a god he who takes thee to wife.
*** W. R. Paton, Greek Anthology, i, pp. 172-3
** Thou hast Hera’s eyes, thou hast Pallas’ hands, And the feet of the Queen of the yellow sands, Thou hast beautiful Aphrodite’s breast, Thou art made of each goddess’s loveliest! Happy is he who sees thy face, Happy who hears thy words of grace, And he that shall kiss thee is half divine, But a god who shall win that heart of thine!
*** Andrew Lang, Grass of Parnassus (1888), p. 118

### Anth. Pal. v. 255.

* Εἶδον ἐγὼ ποθέοντας: ὑπ᾽ ἀτλήτοιο δὲ λύσσης δηρὸν ἐν ἀλλήλοις χείλεα πηξάμενοι, οὐ κόρον εἶχον ἔρωτος ἀφειδέος: ἱέμενοι δέ, εἰ θέμις, ἀλλήλων δύμεναι ἐς κραδίην, ἀμφασίης ὅσον ὅσσον ὑπεπρήυνον ἀνάγκην, ἀλλήλων μαλακοῖς φάρεσιν ἑσσάμενοι. καὶ ῥ᾽ ὁ μὲν ἦν Ἀχιλῆι πανείκελος, οἷος ἐκεῖνος τῶν Λυκομηδείων ἔνδον ἔην θαλάμων κούρη δ᾽ ἀργυφέης ἐπιγουνίδος ἄχρι χιτῶνα ζωσαμένη, Φοίβης εἶδος ἀπεπλάσατο. καὶ πάλιν ἠρήρειστο τὰ χείλεα: γυιοβόρον γὰρ εἶχον ἀλωφήτου λιμὸν ἐρωμανίης. ῥεῖά τις ἡμερίδος στελέχη δύο σύμπλοκα λύσει, στρεπτά, πολυχρονίῳ πλέγματι συμφυέα, ἢ κείνους ῾φιλέοντας, ὑπ᾽ ἀντιπόροισὶ τ᾽ ἀγοστοῖς ὑγρὰ περιπλέγδην ἅψεα δησαμένους. τρὶς μάκαρ, ὃς τοίοισι, φίλη, δεσμοῖσιν ἑλίχθη, τρὶς μάκαρ: ἀλλ᾽ ἡμεῖς ἄνδιχα καιόμεθα.
** I saw the lovers. In the ungovernable fury of their passion they glued their lips together in a long kiss; but that did not sate the infinite thirst of love. Longing, if it could be, to enter into each other’s hearts, they sought to appease to a little extent the torment of the impossible by interchanging their soft raiment. Then he was just like Achilles among the daughters of Lycomedes, and she, her tunic girt up to her silver knee, counterfeited the form of Artemis. Again their lips met close, for the inappeasable hunger of passion yet devoured them. ’Twere easier to tear apart two vine stems that have grown round each other for years than to separate them as they kiss and with their opposed arms knot their pliant limbs in a close embrace. Thrice blessed he, my love, who is entwined by such fetters, thrice blessed! but we must burn far from each other.
*** W. R. Paton, Greek Anthology, i, pp. 258-9
** I saw two lovers in mad passion strive: In one long kiss their lips together clung; Nor could they take their fill, but closer flung, Each fain within the other’s soul to dive. Their holden speech found sweet reliefs at need, While each the other’s raiment did enfold,— He like Achilles, when he passed of old For maiden, in the halls of Lycomede; She, draped and looped her snowy knee above, Stood like a marble-moulded Artemis; And still their lips fixed straining in a kiss For hunger of their quenchless fainting love. Sooner two writhed and twisted vines unweave Their tight growth tangled with the grip of years, Than aught shall sunder these two loving feres, Or loose their lacing arms that twine and cleave. Thrice happy they, inwoven heart to heart, While thou and I, my love, are burning far apart!
*** Alfred Joshua Butler, "Love and Envy", Amaranth and Asphodel (1922)