Receive, I pray, now these little gifts of tiny songs composed in two-foot verse: a small offering; and do you frequently return in turn the dues of mutual courtesies owed to us. For just as, when the south winds blow in the heat, the parched fields rejoice in the rains; so your page, often sent, will gladden our minds. I do not now ask for the gifts of perishing treasure; not the gold which the miser, ever scheming, gathers up, which blinds the eyes of the wise and, like the flame of fire, burns through wicked hearts. Often the dire greed of gold suggests unspeakable crimes to many; of which I will now unfold to you these few, deeds done in ancient time. The golden fleece stood as a great cause of evils. The banquet of the goddesses fell through a small gift of gold, and from it the greatest quarrel arose among those three goddesses.
Hence the Doric youth laid waste the rich kingdoms of the Trojan-born. Both the rights of laws, and divine ordinance and faith, are broken by gold. The impious deeds of King Pygmalion are read of, done for the sake of gold. Thus a greedy host, incited by gold, slew Polydorus by treachery. Often a chaste woman, for the sake of gold, loses her honour. It was not Jupiter who flowed down in a shower of gold; but because the adulterer offered gold, he is feigned to be a golden shower. A faithless wife betrayed Amphiaraus for gold. The hero Achilles sold for gold the body of Hector. And it is said that the black gates of Pluto are unbarred by a sure bribe. Now I could relate many more things, did not the cause of brevity veil them. Sending you, illustrious brother, these small gifts of little letters, I suggest that you forsake vain cares.
Cease, I pray, now to feed spirited horses with rich grain, and by piling up gain upon gain, cease to add coins to coins. Why do you associate with the wicked, whose frequent gifts you take back? Christ hates the gifts of the wicked. These things are to be despised by the wise man, who ought to discern the seasons of a fleeting and transient life. But it suffices now to have sung these talkative songs in this verse. For perhaps this form of verse may seem new to the reader. Yet that illustrious poetess of the Trojan-born, Sappho by name, was wont with these verses to bring forth a sweet song. If you should have a desire, perchance, willing to compose songs in such verse, let one dactyl ever, in fixed order, begin the foot there.
Then in the following part let a trochee, next to it, be duly placed. Often it will rightly be permitted to close the last of the verse with two long syllables. Only do you, gracious brother Fedolius, sweeter to us than all nectar, leaving the more flowery songs of the eloquent, joyfully receive these trifles of ours. So may Christ, judge of the world, the only Son of the Almighty, render to you the sweet joys of life: He who, in the name of the Father, governing all things, reigns without end forever. These things I have dictated to you, oppressed by bitter ailments, which I suffer in a frail body, and in sad old age. For while the times slip by in a headlong course, now we have come to thrice six Olympiad years. All things pass away; irretrievable time flees. Live, fare well joyfully, and be mindful of sad old age.