Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments

Name: Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments
Author: Aeschylus

Aeschylus

Aeschylus -- Translations into English; Mythology, Greek -- Drama

And phantom shades that hover round in dreams                       410
 Come full of sorrow, bringing vain delight;
         For vain it is, when one
         Sees seeming shows of good,
 And gliding through his hands the dream is gone,
         After a moment's space,
         On wings that follow still
 Upon the path where sleep goes to and fro.
         Such are the woes at home
 Upon the altar hearth, and worse than these.
 But on a wider scale for those who went
         From Hellas' ancient shore,
 A sore distress that causeth pain of heart                          420
         Is seen in every house.
 Yea, many things there are that touch the quick:
         For those whom each did send
         He knoweth; but, instead
 Of living men, there come to each man's home
         Funeral urns alone,
         And ashes of the dead.


                              STROPHE III

 For Ares, trafficking for golden coin
         The lifeless shapes of men,
 And in the rush of battle holding scales,
         Sends now from Ilion
         Dust from the funeral pyre,
 A burden sore to loving friends at home,
         And bitterly bewailed,
         Filling the brazen urn
 With well-smoothed ashes in the place of men;                       430
         And with high praise they mourn
 This hero skilled and valiant in the fight,
 And that who in the battle nobly fell,
         All for another's wife:
 And other words some murmur secretly;
         And jealous discontent
 Against the Atreidæ, champions in the suit,
         Creeps on all stealthily;
         And some around the wall,
 In full and goodly form have sepulture
         There upon Ilion's soil,                                    440
 And their foes' land inters its conquerors.


                            ANTISTROPHE III

 And so the murmurs of their subjects rise
         With sullen discontent,
 And do the dread work of a people's curse;
         And now my boding fear
         Awaits some news of ill,
 As yet enwrapt in blackness of the night.
         Not heedless are the Gods
         Of shedders of much blood,
 And the dark-robed Erinnyes in due time,
         By adverse chance of life,                                  450
 Place him who prospers in unrighteousness
 In gloom obscure; and once among the unseen,
         There is no help for him:
 Fame in excess is but a perilous thing;
         For on men's quivering eyes
 Is hurled by Zeus the blinding thunderbolt.
         I praise the good success
         That rouses not God's wrath;
 Ne'er be it mine a city to lay waste.[303]
         Nor, as a prisoner, see
 My life wear on beneath another's power!


                                 EPODE

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Opening the text

Æschylos Tragedies and FragmentsAeschylus

General

Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments

Aeschylus

Aeschylus -- Translations into English; Mythology, Greek -- Drama

And phantom shades that hover round in dreams                       410
 Come full of sorrow, bringing vain delight;
         For vain it is, when one
         Sees seeming shows of good,
 And gliding through his hands the dream is gone,
         After a moment's space,
         On wings that follow still
 Upon the path where sleep goes to and fro.
         Such are the woes at home
 Upon the altar hearth, and worse than these.
 But on a wider scale for those who went
         From Hellas' ancient shore,
 A sore distress that causeth pain of heart                          420
         Is seen in every house.
 Yea, many things there are that touch the quick:
         For those whom each did send
         He knoweth; but, instead
 Of living men, there come to each man's home
         Funeral urns alone,
         And ashes of the dead.


                              STROPHE III

 For Ares, trafficking for golden coin
         The lifeless shapes of men,
 And in the rush of battle holding scales,
         Sends now from Ilion
         Dust from the funeral pyre,
 A burden sore to loving friends at home,
         And bitterly bewailed,
         Filling the brazen urn
 With well-smoothed ashes in the place of men;                       430
         And with high praise they mourn
 This hero skilled and valiant in the fight,
 And that who in the battle nobly fell,
         All for another's wife:
 And other words some murmur secretly;
         And jealous discontent
 Against the Atreidæ, champions in the suit,
         Creeps on all stealthily;
         And some around the wall,
 In full and goodly form have sepulture
         There upon Ilion's soil,                                    440
 And their foes' land inters its conquerors.


                            ANTISTROPHE III

 And so the murmurs of their subjects rise
         With sullen discontent,
 And do the dread work of a people's curse;
         And now my boding fear
         Awaits some news of ill,
 As yet enwrapt in blackness of the night.
         Not heedless are the Gods
         Of shedders of much blood,
 And the dark-robed Erinnyes in due time,
         By adverse chance of life,                                  450
 Place him who prospers in unrighteousness
 In gloom obscure; and once among the unseen,
         There is no help for him:
 Fame in excess is but a perilous thing;
         For on men's quivering eyes
 Is hurled by Zeus the blinding thunderbolt.
         I praise the good success
         That rouses not God's wrath;
 Ne'er be it mine a city to lay waste.[303]
         Nor, as a prisoner, see
 My life wear on beneath another's power!


                                 EPODE

Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.

Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments

Æschylos Tragedies and Fragments

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