Γλύκεια μᾶτερ, οὔ τοι δύναμαι κρέκην τὸν ἴστον,
πόθῳ δάμεισα παῖδοσ βραδίναν δἰ Ἀφρόδιταν. [transcription]
My sweet mother, broken by soft Aphrodite's spell, longing for a youth, I can no more weave the cloth.
My sweet mother! Fair Aphrodite's spell
Has from me sense and reason all bereft,
And, yearning for that dear beloved youth,
No longer can I see the warp or weft.
Quoted by Hephaestion as an example of metre.