ὡς οἱ μὲν περὶ νηὸς ἐϋσσέλμοιο μάχοντο:
Πάτροκλος δ' Ἀχιλῆϊ παρίστατο ποιμένι λαῶν
δάκρυα θερμὰ χέων ὥς τε κρήνη μελάνυδρος.
ἥ τε κατ' αἰγίλιπος πέτρης δνοφερὸν χέει ὕδωρ.
τὸν δὲ ἰ+δὼν ὠίκτιρε ποδάρκης δῖος ἀχιλλεύς.
καί μιν φωνήσας. ἔπεα πτερόεντα προσηύδα.
τίπτε δεδάκρυσαι πατρόκλεις, ἠΰτε κούρη
νηπίη. ἥ θ' ἅμα μητρὶ θέουσ' ἀνελέσθαι ἀνώγει
ἑιανοῦ ἁπτομένη, καί τ' ἐσσυμένην κατερύκει
δακρυόεσσα δέ μιν ποτιδέρκεται ὄφρ' ἀνέληται:
τῆι ΐκελος Πάτροκλε τέρεν κατα δάκρυον εἴβεις.
ἠέ τι μυρμιδόνεσσι πιφαύσκεαι ἢ ἐμοὶ αὐτῶι
ῆέ τιν' ἀγγελίην Φθίης ἒξέέλευς οἶος.
ζώειν μὰν ἔτι φασὶ Μενοίτιον. ἄκτορος υἱόν.
ζώει δ' αἰακίδης πηλεὺς μετὰ μυρμιδόνεσσι:
τῶν κε μάλ' ἀμφοτέρων ἀκαχοίμεθα τεθνηώτων.
ἦε σύ γ' ἀργείων ὀλοφύρεαι ὡς ὀλέκονται
νηυσὶν ἐπι γλαφυρῆισιν. ὑπερβασίης ἕνεκα σφῆς.
ἐξαύδα, μὴ κεῦθε νόωι. να εἴδομεν ἄμφω:
Thus then they were warring around the well-benched ship, but Patroclus drew nigh to Achilles, shepherd of the host, shedding hot tears, even as a fountain of dark water that down over the face of a beetling cliff poureth its dusky stream; and swift-footed goodly Achilles had pity when he saw him, and spake and addressed him with winged words: "Why, Patroclus, art thou bathed in tears, like a girl, a mere babe, that runneth by her mother's side and biddeth her take her up, and clutcheth at her gown, and hindereth her in her going, and tearfully looketh up at her, till the mother take her up? Even like her, Patroclus, dost thou let fall round tears. Hast thou haply somewhat to declare to the Myrmidons or to mine own self, or is it some tidings out of Phthia that thyself alone hast heard? Still lives Menoetius, men tell us, Actor's son, and still lives Peleus. son of Aeacus, amid the Myrmidons, for which twain would we grieve right sore, were they dead. Or art thou sorrowing for the Argives, how they are being slain beside the hollow ships by reason of their own presumptuous act? Speak out; hide it not in thy mind; that we both may know."
