Theocritus Idyll 11: the Cyclops 1-11

[hawkwing_lb]

οὐδὲν πὸτ τὸν ἔρωτα πεφύκει φάρμακον ἄλλο
Νικία οὔτ᾽ ἔγχριστον, ἐμὶν δοκεῖ, οὔτ᾽ ἐπίπαστον,
ἢ ταὶ Πιερίδες: κοῦφον δέ τι τοῦτο καὶ ἁδὺ
γίνετ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἀνθρώποις, εὑρεῖν δ᾽ οὐ ῥᾴδιόν ἐστι.
5γινώσκειν δ᾽ οἶμαί τυ καλῶς ἰατρὸν ἐόντα
καὶ ταῖς ἐννέα δὴ πεφιλάμενον ἔξοχα Μοίσαις.
οὕτω γοῦν ῥάιστα διᾶγ᾽ ὁ Κύκλωψ ὁ παρ᾽ ἁμῖν,
ὡρχαῖος Πολύφαμος, ὅκ᾽ ἤρατο τᾶς Γαλατείας,
ἄρτι γενειάσδων περὶ τὸ στόμα τὼς κροτάφως τε.
10ἤρατο δ᾽ οὐ μάλοις οὐδὲ ῥόδῳ οὐδὲ κικίννοις,
ἀλλ᾽ ὀρθαῖς μανίαις, ἁγεῖτο δὲ πάντα πάρεργα.

With respect to love, there's brought forth no drug,
Nikia, nor salve, it seems to me, nor plaster,
unless it's the Pierides: something soft and sweet
born for the sake of humans, but it is not easy to find,
and I think you know[it] well, since you're a doctor
and by the nine Muses beloved with respect to eminence.
In this way therefore the Kuklops, the one [from our country] lived lightly,
primeval Polyphamos, when he lusted after Galateia,
just when he was growing hair about his mouth and forehead-side.
He lusted not with apples nor with roses nor with ringlets,
but with straight-out madness, and he supposed everything [else] secondary.