My sons ere fighting, light of life is mine.
If they be dead, dead with them will I lie.
Chorus.
Alas and alas!
Shuddering, shuddering horror of soul have I:
Through the very flesh of me pass
Compassion-thrills for a mother in misery.
Two sons—who, slain of the other, in blood shall lie?
Woe, anguish, and dismay!
Zeus!—Earth!—to you I pray!1290
Throat of a brother pierced—a brother sped!—
Cleaving of shields, and blood of brethren shed!
Woe's me and well-a-day!
For whom shall I uplift my voice to wail him dead?
O land, O land!
Two ravening beasts, two spirits of murderous mood,
With the battle-lust quivering they stand;
But full soon shall bedabble a fallen foe with blood!
Wretches, that ever on duel bent they stood!1300
With wail of alien tongue
Shall my wild dirge be sung,
Tears for the dead, and lamentation's cry.
Fate presseth nearer, murder is hard by,
In the sword's[1] balance hung:—
Curst slaughter, curst, the work of Vengeance-destiny!
Ha, 'tis Kreon I behold, that hitherward with clouded brow
Hasteth to the palace. I will hush the wail begun but now.
- ↑ Reading ξίφος.
