Gaetulicus on Archilochus' tomb, two ways

 Literary epigram lent itself very well to imaginary epitaphs; and epitaphs for the great authors of the classical canon were a great way for later authors to show off their credentials through potted biography. One such was the Roman-named Gaetulicus, nine of whose poems survive in the Anthology. His epitaphic writeup for Archilochus runs to six lines in the Greek:

σῆμα τόδ᾽ Ἀρχιλόχου παραπόντιον, ὅς ποτε πικρὴν
μοῦσαν ἐχιδναίῳ πρῶτος ἔβαψε χόλῳ,
αἱμάξας Ἑλικῶνα τὸν ἥμερον. οἶδε Λυκάμβης,
μυρόμενος τρισσῶν ἅμματα θυγατέρων.
ἠρέμα δὴ παράμειψον, ὁδοιπόρε, μή ποτε τοῦδε
κινήσῃς τύμβῳ σφῆκας ἐφεζομένους.

My version runs to seven, which is pretty close, for me:

This seaside tomb is of ARCHILOCHUS,
Who first dipped bitter Muse in viper’s bile,
And spattered gentle Helicon in blood.
Lycambes knows: he weeps for his three girls,
Who hanged themselves. Go quietly, traveller,
As you pass by: take care you do not stir
The swarm of wasps that sleep upon this tomb.

 Ordinarily I like Woodward's versions very much. He has faults, but who among us shall throw the first stone? He chases rhyme with adorable ingenuity, and on good days his archaisms achieve a grand mood. But AP 7.71 was not so good a day. Six lines become a heavily padded twelve, or as he would put it, XII.

Archilochus’ bier by the sea-shore is here;
   And he was the very first piper
To sorely mis-use and be-dip the poor Muse
   In the venomous gall of the viper.

Blood-staining at will gentle Helicon’s hill,
   This wotteth Lykambes a-rending
His heart over III hempen cords, [wo was he]
   That sent his III girls to their ending.

So on tip-toe pass on: ye way-men, be gone!
   Lest haply, or ever ye know it,
Ye wake from their sleep the wopses that keep
   Watch & ward o’er the grave of this poet.

I don't wot what he was thinking, but I feel the wo, as if stung by wopses.