Homonoea: I, much more sweet sounding than the Sirens, more golden than Kupris herself alongside Bacchus and food, I, a chattering and cheerful swallow, I, Homonoea, lie here, leaving tears for Atimetus, to whom I was welcome since infancy; but unforeseen fate has scattered the affection so strong.
Atimetus: If cruel fate were to allow the exchange of life, and if the good health of another could redeem death, whatever little time of my life I have left, I would have exchanged for you, beloved
Homonoea, gladly. But as it is I do as I can: I will flee the light and the gods so that I may follow you across the Styx in early death.
Homonoea: Husband, refrain from weakening your youth with weeping, and from disturbing my death by grieving. Tears do not achieve anything, nor can fate be changed. We have lived. This end we all have. Stop. May you thus never experience similar pain, and may all the gods be well disposed towards your wishes. That of youth which premature death snatched away from me, may this prolong for you your lifetime further.
Homonoea: You who go forth with untroubled mind, stop walking for a moment, I entreat, and read a few words. I, she who had been preferred over celebrated girls, have been buried in this little grave - I on whom the Paphian bestowed beauty, the Graces elegance, I whom Pallas has educated in all the arts. Not twice ten years did my lifetime see. A hostile fate has taken possession of me. But not for me do I lament this: that grief of Atimetus, my husband, is more sorrowful to me than death itself.
Passer-by: May the earth be light upon you, woman most deserving of life, you who once fully enjoyed your blessings.
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