Γλαύκῳ δ’ αἰνὸν ἄχος γένετο φθογγῆς ἀΐοντι:
ὠρίνθη δέ οἱ ἦτορ ὅ τ’ οὐ δύνατο προσαμῦναι.
χειρὶ δ’ ἑλὼν ἐπίεζε βραχίονα: τεῖρε γὰρ αὐτὸν
ἕλκος, ὃ δή μιν Τεῦκρος ἐπεσσύμενον βάλεν ἰῷ
τείχεος ὑψηλοῖο, ἀρὴν ἑτάροισιν ἀμύνων.
εὐχόμενος δ’ ἄρα εἶπεν ἑκηβόλῳ Ἀπόλλωνι:
κλῦθι ἄναξ ὅς που Λυκίης ἐν πίονι δήμῳ
εἲς ἢ ἐνὶ Τροίῃ: δύνασαι δὲ σὺ πάντοσ’ ἀκούειν
ἀνέρι κηδομένῳ, ὡς νῦν ἐμὲ κῆδος ἱκάνει.
ἕλκος μὲν γὰρ ἔχω τόδε καρτερόν, ἀμφὶ δέ μοι χεὶρ
ὀξείῃς ὀδύνῃσιν ἐλήλαται, οὐδέ μοι αἷμα
τερσῆναι δύναται, βαρύθει δέ μοι ὦμος ὑπ’ αὐτοῦ:
ἔγχος δ’ οὐ δύναμαι σχεῖν ἔμπεδον, οὐδὲ μάχεσθαι (520)
ἐλθὼν δυσμενέεσσιν. ἀνὴρ δ’ ὤριστος ὄλωλε
Σαρπηδὼν Διὸς υἱός: ὃ δ’ οὐ οὗ παιδὸς ἀμύνει.
ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι ἄναξ τόδε καρτερὸν ἕλκος ἄκεσσαι,
κοίμησον δ’ ὀδύνας, δὸς δὲ κράτος, ὄφρ’ ἑτάροισι
κεκλόμενος Λυκίοισιν ἐποτρύνω πολεμίζειν,
αὐτός τ’ ἀμφὶ νέκυι κατατεθνηῶτι μάχωμαι.
But upon Glaucus came dread grief as he heard the voice of Sarpedon, and his heart was stirred, for that he availed not to succour him. And with his hand he caught and pressed his arm, for his wound tormented him, the wound that Teucer, while warding off destruction from his comrades, had dealt him with his arrow as he rushed upon the high wall. Then in prayer he spake to Apollo, that smiteth afar: "Hear me, O king that art haply in the rich land of Lycia or haply in Troy, but everywhere hast power to hearken unto a man that is in sorrow, even as now sorrow is come upon me. For I have this grievous wound and mine arm on this side and on that is shot through with sharp pangs, nor can the blood be staunched; and my shoulder is made heavy with the wound, and I avail not to grasp my spear firmly, neither to go and fight with the foe-men. And a man far the noblest hath perished, even Sarpedon, the son of Zeus; and he succoureth not his own child. Howbeit, do thou, O king, heal me of this grievous wound, and lull my pains, and give me might, that I may call to my comrades, the Lycians, and urge them on to fight, and myself do battle about the body of him that is fallen in death."
