A poem by Aeschylus (c. 525 – c. 456 Before Christ )
STROPHE IV
Though Zeus plan all things right,
Yet is his heart’s desire full hard to trace;
Nathless in every place
Brightly it gleameth, e’en in darkest night,
Fraught with black fate to man’s speech-gifted race.
ANTISTROPHE IV
Steadfast, ne’er thrown in fight,
The deed in brow of Zeus to ripeness brought;
For wrapt in shadowy night,
Tangled, unscanned by mortal sight,
Extend the pathways of his secret thought.
STROPHE V
From towering hopes mortals he hurleth prone
To utter doom; but for their fall
No force arrayeth he; for all
That gods devise is without effort wrought.
A mindful Spirit aloft on holy throne
By inborn energy achieves his thought.
ANTISTROPHE V
But let him mortal insolence behold:–
How with proud contumacy rife,
Wantons the stem in lusty life
My marriage craving;–frenzy over-bold,
Spur ever-pricking, goads them on to fate,
By ruin taught their folly all too late.
STROPHE VI
Thus I complain, in piteous strain,
Grief-laden, tear-evoking, shrill;
Ah woe is me! woe! woe!
Dirge-like it sounds; mine own death-trill
I pour, yet breathing vital air.
Hear, hill-crowned Apia, hear my prayer!
Full well, O land,
My voice barbaric thou canst understand;
While oft with rendings I assail
My byssine vesture and Sidonian veil.
ANTISTROPHE VI
My nuptial right in Heaven’s pure sight
Pollution were, death-laden, rude;
Ah woe is me! woe! woe!
Alas for sorrow’s murky brood!
Where will this billow hurl me? Where?
Hear, hill-crowned Apia, hear my prayer;
Full well, O land,
My voice barbaric thou canst understand,
While oft with rendings I assail
My byssine vesture and Sidonian veil.
STROPHE VII
The oar indeed and home with sails
Flax-tissued, swelled with favoring gales,
Staunch to the wave, from spear-storm free,
Have to this shore escorted me,
Nor so far blame I destiny.
But may the all-seeing Father send
In fitting time propitious end;
So our dread Mother’s mighty brood,
The lordly couch may ‘scape, ah me,
Unwedded, unsubdued!
ANTISTROPHE VII
Meeting my will with will divine,
Daughter of Zeus, who here dost hold
Steadfast thy sacred shrine,–
Me, Artemis unstained, behold,
Do thou, who sovereign might dost wield,
Virgin thyself, a virgin shield;
So our dread Mother’s mighty brood
The lordly couch may ‘scape, ah me,
Unwedded, unsubdued!
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External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- A Cliff Dwelling by Robert Frost
- A Brook in the City by Robert Frost
- A Boundless Moment by Robert Frost
- The Easter Egg Hunt by Roger Turner
- Nikolai Gumilev –
- The Land of Counterpane by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Come, My Beloved, Hear From Me by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Come, Here Is Adieu To The City by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Come From The Daisied Meadows by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Block City by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Behold, As Goblins Dark Of Mien by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Before This Little Gift Was Come by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Away With Funeral Music by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Autumn Fires by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Auntie’s Skirts by Robert Louis Stevenson
- At the Sea-Side by Robert Louis Stevenson
- At Last She Comes by Robert Louis Stevenson
- As One Who Having Wandered All Night Long by Robert Louis Stevenson
- As In Their Flight The Birds Of Song by Robert Louis Stevenson
- Armies in the Fire by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Aeschylus (525 Before Christ to 456 B.C.) was an ancient Greek author of Greek tragedy, and is often described as the father of tragedy. Academics’ knowledge of the genre begins with his work, and understanding of earlier Greek tragedy is largely based on inferences made from reading his surviving plays. According to Aristotle, he expanded the number of characters in the theatre and allowed conflict among them.