Apollo graunt, enjoy health I may
That I have got, and with sound minde, I pray:
Nor that I may with shame spend my old yeares,
Nor wanting musike to delight mine eares.
[tr. Florio (1603)]

Latona's Son,
In Minde and Bodies health my own
T' enjoy; old Age from dotage free,
And solac'd with the Lute, give me.
[tr. Fanshaw; ed. Brome (1666)]

O (great Apollo) grant
To me in health, and free from life's annoy,
Things native, and soon gotten to enjoy;
And with a mind compos'd old Age attain,
Not loathsome, nor depriv'd of Lyrick strain.
[tr. "Sir T. H."; ed. Brome (1666)]

A Mind to use my present Store
With Health and Life, but not so long
As brings Contempt, or cramps my Song;
Grant this Apollo, and I ask no more.
[tr. Creech (1684)]

O thou son of Latona, grant me to enjoy my acquisitions, and to possess my health, together with an unimpaired understanding, I beseech thee; and that I may not lead a dishonorable old age, nor one bereft of the lyre.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

O grant me, Phoebus, calm content,
Strength unimpairEd, a mind entire,
Old age without dishonour spent,
Nor unbefriended by the lyre!
[tr. Conington (1872)]

And health
Give thou, Latoë, so I might
Enjoy my present wealth!
Give me but these, I ask no more,
These, and a mind entire --
And old age, not unhonour'd, nor
Unsolaced by the lyre!
[tr. Martin (1864)]

Give me health in myself to enjoy the things granted,
O thou son of Latona; sound mind in sound body;
Keep mine age free from all that degrades,
And let it not fail of the lyre.
[tr. Bulwer-Lytton (1870)]

Grant it to me, Apollo, that I may enjoy what I have in good health; let me be sound in body and mind; let me live in honor when old, nor let music be wanting.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877)]

Grant it to me, Apollo, that I may enjoy my possessions in good health; let me be sound in mind; let me not lead a dishonourable old age, nor want the cittern.
[tr. Cotton/Hazlitt (1877), alternate]

Son of Latona, grant me, I pray, to enjoy in health of body and soundness of mind what I possess, and let my old age be honourable and rendered happy by the charms of music.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

Give me then health, Apollo; give
Sound mind; on gotten goods to live
Contented; and let song engage
An honoured, not a base, old age.
[tr. Gladstone (1894)]

Health to enjoy the blessings thou givest me,
Grant me, Latoe, with a sound mind, I pray;
Nor let my age be e'er unhonour'd.
Nor unattended with lyric measures.
[tr. Phelps (1897)]

Grant me in health to relish what I have
In store, Latona's son, with mind I pray,
Unclouded -- and to pass an eld
Not base, nor of my harp deprived.
[tr. Garnsey (1907)]

Grant, god, that with my lot
I live content, hale, and still fresh my gift, --
Grant that in age I may not drift
Long years, my lyre forgot.
[tr. Marshall (1908)]

Grant me, O Latona’s son, to be content with what I have, and, sound of body and of mind, to pass an old age lacking neither honour nor the lyre!
[tr. Bennett (Loeb) (1912)]

Let me walk unto the end, erect, with brow unclouded;
Let my years be sonant with the sweeping of the lyre.
And, when I am less than dust and all the urns are shrouded,
May the singing echo even when the songs expire.

[tr. Untermeyer (1919)]

Grant me, Apollo, for the rest,
Contentment, health, sound wits and bright,
An honoured eld, by music blest.
[tr. Mills (1924)]

Grant, I pray, son of Latona, that I enjoy full health, and with mind uunimpaired, the goods that have been prepared for me; and that my old age be not unhonoured, nor lack the lyre.
[tr. Ives (1925)]

Grant me, Latona's son, but health,
Grant me a mind entire,
Contentment and a dignified old age,
Not lacking in the sweetness of the lyre.
[tr. Zeitlin (1934)]

Grant me but health, Latona's son,
And to enjoy the wealth I've won,
And honored age, with mind entire
And not unsolaced by the lyre.
[tr. Frame (1943)]

Delight had I healthily in what lay handy provided.
Grant me now, Latoe:
full wit in my cleanly age,
Nor lyre lack me, to tune the page.
[tr. Pound (c. 1955)]

Grant me, Apollo, that I may enjoy with healthy body and sound mind the goods that have been prepared for me, and that my old age be honourable and no stranger to the lyre.
[tr. Cohen (1958)]

Here's what I crave most, son of Latona, then:
Good health, a sound mind, relish of life, and an
Old age that still maintains a stylish
Grip on itself and the lyric metres.
[tr. Michie (1963)]

Vouchsafe, O Son of Latona, that I may enjoy those things I have prepared; and, with my mind instact I pray, may I not degenerate into a squalid senility, in which the lyre is wanting.
[tr. Screech (1987)]

Apollo grant that I be satisfied
With what I have as what I ought to have,
And that I live my old age out with honor,
In health of mind and body, doing my work.
[tr. Ferry (1997)]

Grant me, O son of Latona, I pray
that I take joy in what I have
Sound in mind and body entire
and my old age lacking neither honor nor lyre.
[tr. Alexander (1999)]

Apollo, the son
of Latona, let me enjoy what I have,
and, healthy in body and mind, as I ask,
live an old age not without honour,
and one not lacking the art of the lyre.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant, systematic duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune. Our nervous system isn’t just a fiction, it’s a part of our physical body, and our soul exists in space and is inside us, like the teeth in our mouth. It can’t be forever violated with impunity.
[tr. Hayward & Harari (1958), US ed.]

A constant, systematic dissembling is required of the vast majority of us. It’s impossible, without its affecting your health, to show yourself day after day contrary to what you feel, to lay yourself out for what you don’t love, to rejoice over what brings you misfortune. Our nervous system is not an empty sound, not a fiction. It’s a physical body made up of fibers. Our soul takes up room in space and sits inside us like the teeth in our mouth. It cannot be endlessly violated with impunity.
[tr. Pevear & Volokhonsky (2010)]

Some men talk well, easily, justly, and to the purpose: those offend in the last kind, who speak of the Banquets they are to be at, before such as are reduc'd to spare their Bread; of sound Limbs, before the Infirm; of Demesnes and Revenues, before the Poor and Needy; of fine Houses and Furniture, before such as have neither Dwelling or Moveables: in a word, who speak of Prosperity, before the Miserable. This conversation is too strong for 'em, and the comparison you make between their condition and yours is odious.
[Bullord ed. (1696)]

There is speaking well, speaking easily, speaking justly, and speaking seasonably: 'Tis transgressing the last rule, to speak ofthe sumptuous Entertainments you have made, before such as are reduc'd to want of Bread; of a healthy Constitution of Body, before the Infirm; of Demesnes, Revenues and Furniture, before a Man who has neither Dwelling, Rents, nor Movables; in a word, to speak of your Prosperity before the Miserable: this Conversation is too strong from them, and the Comparison they make between their Condition and yours is odious.
[Curll ed. (1713)]

There is speaking well, speaking easily, speaking justly, and speaking seasonably: It is offending against the last, to speak of Entertainments before the Indigent; of sound Limbs and Health before the Infirm; of Houses and Lands before one who has not so much as a Dwelling; in a Word, to speak of your Prosperity before the Miserable; this Conversation is cruel, and the Comparison which naturally rises in them betwixt their Condition and yours is excruciating.
[Browne ed. (1752)]

There is a difference between speaking well, speaking easily, speaking with judgement and speaking opportunely. We fail in this last respect when we enlarge upon the splendid meal we have just enjoyed in front of people who have to be thrifty of their bread; or boast of our health in the presence of invalids; or talk about our wealth, our fortune and property to a man who has neither home nor income; in a word, when we speak of our happiness in front of those who are wretched; such conversation is too painful for them, and the comparison they are bound to make between your state and their own is intolerable.
[tr. Stewart (1970)]

When Leo rages with the summer's sun,
From pestilential climates never run;
Since, in the wholesom'st and the purest air,
The destinies Croatius did not spare.
When thy time's come, death from no place is bound,
Sardinia in the midst of Tibur's found.
[tr. Killigrew (1695)]

To Ardea, Pestum, roam, and e'er so far;
Or glow beneath the Cleonean star:
While Curiatius damns Tiburtian gales,
As down the healthfull streams to Styx he fails.
The Fates no place debars: if Death be there,
Alike is Tibur's and Sardinia's air.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), 9.10]

Let us in the summer solstice retire to Ardea and the country about Paestum, and to the tract which burns under the Cleonaean constellation; since Curiatius has condemned the air of Tivoli, carried off as he was to the Styx notwithstanding its much-lauded waters. From no place can you shut out fate: when death comes, Sardinia is in the midst of Tivoli itself.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]

Go where you will, you cannot shut
The door on Fate; when Death draws nigh,
Then far Sardinia is as near
As Tibur.
[ed. Harbottle (1897)]

Seek ye Ardea in summer's heat, and the field sof castum, and teh meads scorched by Cleonae's star, seeing that Curiatius condemns Tibur's air; from amid waters so belauded was he sent to Styx. In no spot canst thou shut out fate; when death comes even in Tibur's midst is a Sardinia.
[tr. Ker (1919)]

Now must we say, if thou be wise
In summer’s heat to Ardea turn,
Or seek the plain where Castrum lies
And the hot stars of Leo burn.
He that is laid in yonder grave
Saith, "Tarry not but get thee gone."
Here sought he Arno’s healing wave,
But found the stream of Acheron?
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]

To Ardea and Castrum let us go
In the dog-days when all the heaven's aglow.
Tibur's a death trap; Curiatius died,
Sent mid its breezes to the Stygian tide.
Death ranges at his will; when so inclined
In Tibur's bosom he'll Sardinia find.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), ep. 195]

Now in the blazing heat we might as well escape
to Castrum, or Ardea, or any sunburnt landscape,
since Curiatius has laid a curse
on the air of Tivoli by dying there,
where the waters are also salubrious.
No place can fend off death. It's no worse
to expire in sickly Sardinia than in a spa.
[tr. Bovie (1970)]

At the solstice let us make for Ardea and the Castran countryside and whatever fields are scorched by Cleonae's constellation, since Curiatius damns the breezes of Tibur, dispatched to Styx amid her lauded waters. In no place can you shut out fate; when death comes, in the midst of Tibur is Sardinia.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]

It is not life to live, but to be well.
[tr. Burton (1621)]

Not all who live long, but happily, are old.
[tr. Killigrew (1695)]

For sense and reason tell,
That life is only life, when we are well.
[tr. Hay (1755)]

For life is not to live, but to be well.
[tr. Johnson, in The Rambler, #48, cited to Elphinston (1 Sep 1750)]

To brethe can just not dying give:
But, to be well, must be to live.
[tr. Elphinston (1782), 2.115]

For life is not simply living, but living in health.
[tr. Amos (1858)]

Life consists not in living, but in enjoying health.
[tr. Bohn's Classical (1859)]

It is not life to live, but to be well.
[ed. Harbottle (1897)]

The blunderer who deems them so,
Misreckons life and much mistakes it,
He thinks 'tis drawing breath -- we know
'Tis health alone that mars or makes it.
[tr. Pott & Wright (1921)]

Life is not life, but health is life indeed.
[tr. Francis & Tatum (1924), #310]

To live is not just life, but health.
[tr. Shepherd (1987)]

Life is not being alive, but being well.
[tr. Shackleton Bailey (1993)]

"But a just estimate of our mental and bodily faculties was not easily made. Which of them was most conducive to the success of military operations, was in former times a question much agitated, and long undecided. It is evident, however, that before the undertaking of a warlike enterprise, judgment is required to concert and plan the necessary measures; vigor in execution is equally necessary. The powers of man, in their separate functions feeble and ineffectual, demand each other's aid, and flourish by mutual assistance." [tr. Murphy (1807)]

"It has, however, been a great and long debate, whether success in war is most owing to bodily strength or mental abilities: for, as counsel is necessary before we enter on action, after measures are duly concerted, speedy execution is equally necessary; so that neither of these being sufficient singly, they prevail only by the assistance of each other." [tr. Rose (1831)]

"But there has been for a long time a great debate amongst mortals, whether the science of war advanced more by the strength of body or by the abilities of the mind. For both before you begin there is need of counsel; and when you have counselled, there is need of vigorous execution. So whilst both by themselves are defective, the one is strengthened by the assistance of the other." [Source (1841)]

"Yet it was long a subject of dispute among mankind, whether military efforts were more advanced by strength of body, or by force of intellect. For, in affairs of war, it is necessary to plan before beginning to act, and, after planning, to act with promptitude and vigor. Thus, each being insufficient of itself, the one requires the assistance of the other." [tr. Watson (1867)]

"Not it was long hotly contested among men whether military success was more advanced by mental ability or by bodily strength, for what we need is deliberation before we begin, and after deliberation, then well-timed action; either of itself is deficient and lacks the other's help." [tr. Pollard (1882)]

"Yet for a long time there was considerable dispute amongst mortals as to whether it was through the power of the body or the prowess of the mind that military affairs made greater progress. For, before you begin, deliberation is necessary, and, when you have deliberated, speedy action: hence each element, deficient on its own, requires the help of the other." [tr. Woodman (2007)]

• Long life: Interview with Rena Pederson
• Long life: Quoted in the Minneapolis Star Tribune, requoted in Reader's Digest (1997-01)
• Confort food: Source

Howbeit my wyt, which I haue had beginnes for to decay,
And ech yeare plucks away from me as it doth passe away.
My games, my iestes, my lustes, my feastes, from me they made to go,
And now would steale my poems to. what wouldste thou I should do?
[tr. Drant (1567)]

I find I'm growing old, and every year
Steals somewhat from me; Venus, Mirth, and Chear,
Begin to lose their Gust; My Wits decline,
And my Poetick vein grows dry with time.
What e're I have been, I am scarse the same,
And will you have me dance now I am lame?
[tr. I. D.; ed. Brome (1666)]

On me each circling Year does make a prey,
It steals my Humor, and my Mirth away.
And now at last would steal my Poems too
From my Embrace; what would You have me do?
[tr. Creech (1684)]

The waning years apace
Steal off our thoughts, and rifle every grace.
Alas! already have they snatcht away
My jokes, my loves, my revellings, and play.
They strive to wrest my poems from me too,
Instruct me then what method to pursue.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Our joys steal from us, as the years roll on;
Mirth, music, love, and wine are well-nigh gone:
And poesy, 'ere many a sun be past, --
Sweet poesy must be resigned at last.
But what to write?
[tr. Howes (1845)]

The advancing years rob us of every thing: they have taken away my mirth, my gallantry, my revelings, and play: they are now proceeding to force poetry from me. What would you have me do?
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

Our years keep taking toll as they move on;
My feasts, my frolics are already gone,
And now, it seems, my verses must go too:
Bestead so sorely, what's a man to do?
[tr. Conington (1874)]

Then, too, the years, they rob us, as they run,
Of all things we delight in, one by one;
Sport, love, feast, frolic they have wrenched away,
And verse will follow at no distant day.
Write! Ay, but what?
[tr. Martin (1881)]

The rolling years rob us, one by one, of our possessions. They have taken away my jokes, loves, convivialities, sports. They strive to wrench from me my poetry. What do you wish me to write?
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

The advancing years rob us of everything; they have taken from me jests, love, banquets and the sports; and now they proceed to take from me my poetry.
What then would you have me do?
[tr. Dana/Dana (1911)]

The years, as they pass, plunder us of all joys, one by one. They have stripped me of mirth, love, feasting, play; they are striving to wrest from me my poems. What would you have me do?
[tr. Fairclough (Loeb) (1926)]

The years revolving steal from us our powers:
My jests, loves, sports, my taste for festive hours
They’ve torn away; and now my poems, too,
They strive to wrest. What would you have me do?
[tr. Anon.; ed. Kraemer (1936)]

Our pleasures steal off, one by one, with the years,
Which have already snatched my zest for laughter and love,
For playing and feasting. And now they're trying to twist
The poems loose from my hand. What can I do?
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

The passing years rob us of our pleasures one by one.
They've taken jokes and sex away, and games and dinners;
now they're clutching at my poems. How can I fight that?
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

One by one the years go by, and one by one they steal
Our pleasures: laughter, love, friendship, fun.
They're taking poetry too -- and what in God's name should I do?
[tr. Raffel (1983)]

The years as they go by take everything with them,
One thing after another; they’ve taken away
Laughter, and revelry, and love from me, and now
They want to take poetry. What can I do?
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

As the years go by they rob us of one thing after another.
Already they've taken fun, sex, parties and sport;
now they're pulling away my poems. What shall I do then?
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

The passing years steal one thing after another:
They’ve robbed me of fun, love, banquets, sport:
They’re trying to wrest my poems away: what next?
[tr. Kline (2015)]

Do waye therefore thy practysde plaintes, bemone thy selfe no more.
For he that hath the use of goodes, cannot be judged poore.
If that thy bellie, sydes, and féete, and all thy partes be well,
Not wealth of kinges can adde to owght that doth this wealth excell.
[tr. Drant (1567)]

Therefore leave off complaining that thou'rt poor:
For he's not poor, whom fortune does produce,
What e're is necessary for his use.
If thou canst get good Diet, and warm Cloaths,
Caesars Estate can't give thee more than those.
[tr. A. B.; ed. Brome (1666)]

My Friend complain no more,
He that hath things for use is never poor.
If Thou hast cleanly Food and Cloaths enough,
What more than this can kingly Wealth bestow?
[tr. Creech (1684)]

The cease complaining, friend, and learn to live.
He is not poor to whom kind Fortune grants,
Even with a frugal hand, what Nature wants.
Are you with food, and warmth, and raiment blest?
Not royal treasures are of more possest.
[tr. Francis (1747)]

Hush then vain murmurs -- throw complaint aside!
He ne'er is poor, whose wants are well supplied.
Possess'd of health and food and raiment, know
Arabia's treasures can no more bestow.
[tr. Howes (1845)]

Away with complaints! for that man is by no means poor, who has the use or everything, he wants. If it is well with your belly, your back, and your feet, regal wealth can add nothing greater.
[tr. Smart/Buckley (1853)]

A truce to murmuring: with another's store
To use at pleasure, who shall call you poor?
Sides, stomach, feet, if these are all in health,
What more could man procure with princely wealth?
[tr. Conington (1874)]

No more complaining, friend! for poor
That man is not who can insure
Whate'er for life is needful found.
Let your digestion be but sound.
Your side unwrung by spasm or stitch.
Your foot unconscious of a twitch,
And could you be more truly blest,
Though of the wealth of kings possessed?
[tr. Martin (1881)]

Away with complaining -- for he is not a poor man who has a sufficiency for every need. If you have health in your stomach, your side, and your feet, the riches of kings can give you nothing superior.
[tr. Elgood (1893)]

So stop complaining! The man is certainly not poor
Who has everything that he needs. A king’s own ransom
Can’t add a bit more, if your stomach and lungs
And feet are all right.
[tr. Palmer Bovie (1959)]

He is not poor who has enough of things to use.
If it is well with your belly, chest and feet,
the wealth of kings can give you nothing more.
[Bartlett's (1968)]

Stop complaining.
No one is a pauper who has all the things he needs.
If your belly's good and your lungs and feet are healthy,
no royal treasure could add the slightest bit to yours.
[tr. Fuchs (1977)]

Stop complaining!
No one is poor who has enough of all he needs.
If your belly is full and your health is good and your feet
Don’t hurt, why would an emperor’s wealth be worth having?
[tr. Raffel (1983) "Ixus"]

No one is poor who can use whatever he has.
[tr. Ferry (2001)]

No more complaining!
The man who enjoys the use of commodities isn’t poor.
If stomach, chest, and feet are in good condition, then kings
with all their wealth can add nothing of greater value.
[tr. Rudd (2005 ed.)]

Stop complaining:
He’s not poor whose enjoyment of things suffices.
If your lungs, stomach and feet are healthy, royal
Wealth can add nothing.
[tr. Kline (2015)]

In general, however, nine-tenths of our happiness depends on health alone. With it everything becomes a source of pleasure, whereas without it nothing, whatever it may be, can be enjoyed, and even the other subjective blessings, such as mental qualities, disposition, and temperament, are depressed and dwarfed by ill-health. Accordingly, it is not without reason that, when two people meet, they first ask about the state of each other's health and hope that it is good; for this really is for human happiness by far the most important thing.
[tr. Payne (1974)]