Euripides, The Suppliant Maidens, Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator), 918

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Weh, weh, zum Unglück erzog, trug ich, Sohn,

Unter dem Herzen dich, ertrug die Schmerzen

Bei der Geburt! Und nun hat mir der Todesgott

Der Mühsale Lohn geraubt:

Ich habe nicht des Alters Pfleger mehr,
910

Den Sohn, den ich, ach! geboren.

Theseus.

The Suppliant Maidens. Euripides. Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator). . .

Current edition Experimental

German (J. J. C. Donner, 1852; OCR review) (OCR draft) (German) (Euripides. Deutsch in den Versmaßen der Urschrift. Volume 3, Heidelberg: C. F. Winter, 1852. Harvard OCR compared with an independent BSB copy. Native Donner verse citations, Murray reference cards, explicitly located notes and page facsimiles. Unresolved OCR, verse divisions, unlocated notes and printed errata are documented in the source review.)

Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.

Editions (1)

Ἱκέτιδες Perseus (Euripides. Euripidis Fabulae, Vol. II. Murray, Gilbert, editor. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1913. (Reprinted 1921-1962)) — 955-979 focus

Χορός

— οὐκέτʼ εὔτεκνος, οὐκέτʼ εὔ-
955

παις, οὐδʼ εὐτυχίας μέτε-

στίν μοι κουροτόκοις ἐν Ἀργείαις·

οὐδʼ Ἄρτεμις λοχία

προσφθέγξαιτʼ ἂν τὰς ἀτέκνους.

δυσαίων δʼ ὁ βίος,
960

πλαγκτὰ δʼ ὡσεί τις νεφέλα

πνευμάτων ὑπὸ δυσχίμων ἀίσσω.

963

Χορός

— ἑπτὰ ματέρες ἑπτὰ κού-

ρους ἐγεινάμεθʼ αἱ ταλαί-

πωροι κλεινοτάτους ἐν Ἀργείοις·
965

καὶ νῦν ἄπαις ἄτεκνος

γηράσκω δυστανοτάτως,

οὔτʼ ἐν φθιμένοις

οὔτʼ ἐν ζωοῖσιν ἀριθμουμένη,

χωρὶς δή τινα τῶνδʼ ἔχουσα μοῖραν.
970

971

Χορός

— ὑπολελειμμένα μοι δάκρυα·

μέλεα παιδὸς ἐν οἴκοις

κεῖται μνήματα, πένθιμοι

κουραὶ καὶ στέφανοι κόμας,

λοιβαί τε νεκύων φθιμένων,

ἀοιδαί θʼ ἃς χρυσοκόμας
975

Ἀπόλλων οὐκ ἐνδέχεται·

γόοισι δʼ ὀρθρευομένα

δάκρυσι νοτερὸν ἀεὶ πέπλων

πρὸς στέρνῳ πτύχα τέγξω.

Translations (2)

The Suppliants Perseus (Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, Vol. I. Coleridge, Edward P., translator. London: George Bell and Sons, 1906.) — 955-975 focus

Chorus

No more a happy mother I, with children blest; no more I share, among Argive women, who have sons, their happy lot; nor any more will Artemis in the hour of travail kindly greet these childless mothers.
955

Most dreary is my life, and like some wandering cloud I drift before the howling blast.
960

963

Chorus

The seven noblest sons in Argos once we had,

we seven hapless mothers; but now my sons are dead, I have no child, and on me steals old age in piteous wise, nor ’mongst the dead nor ’mongst the living do I count¹ myself,
965

having as it were a lot apart from these.
970

971

Chorus

Tears alone are left me; in my house sad memories of my son are stored; mournful tresses shorn from his head, chaplets that he wore, libations for the dead departed,

and songs, but not such as golden-haired Apollo welcometh; and when I wake to weep, my tears will ever drench the folds of my robe upon my bosom.
975

The Supplicants (OCR draft) Experimental (The Supplicants. Robert Potter's English verse translation, first published in 1781–1783; text from the 1808 Oxford printing.)

No corresponding passage available

Euripides The Suppliant Maidens 918

Johann Jakob Christian Donner (Translator)

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Weh, weh, zum Unglück erzog, trug ich, Sohn,

Unter dem Herzen dich, ertrug die Schmerzen

Bei der Geburt! Und nun hat mir der Todesgott

Der Mühsale Lohn geraubt:

Ich habe nicht des Alters Pfleger mehr,
910

Den Sohn, den ich, ach! geboren.

Theseus.

Current edition Experimental

Chorus

The seven noblest sons in Argos once we had,

we seven hapless mothers; but now my sons are dead, I have no child, and on me steals old age in piteous wise, nor ’mongst the dead nor ’mongst the living do I count¹ myself,
965

having as it were a lot apart from these.
970

Stable identifiers

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Search the Perseus Catalog for:

Weh, weh, zum Unglück erzog, trug ich, Sohn, Unter dem Herzen dich, ertrug die Schmerzen Bei der Geburt! Und nun hat mir der Todesgott Der Mühsale Lohn geraubt: Ich habe nicht des Alters Pfleger mehr, 910 Den Sohn, den ich, ach! geboren.

Theseus.

Current edition Experimental

Chorus The seven noblest sons in Argos once we had, we seven hapless mothers; but now my sons are dead, I have no child, and on me steals old age in piteous wise, nor ’mongst the dead nor ’mongst the living do I count 1 myself, 965 having as it were a lot apart from these. 970

Stable identifiers

Weh, weh, zum Unglück erzog, trug ich, Sohn,

Unter dem Herzen dich, ertrug die Schmerzen

Bei der Geburt! Und nun hat mir der Todesgott

Der Mühsale Lohn geraubt:

Ich habe nicht des Alters Pfleger mehr,
910

Den Sohn, den ich, ach! geboren.

Chorus

The seven noblest sons in Argos once we had,

we seven hapless mothers; but now my sons are dead, I have no child, and on me steals old age in piteous wise, nor ’mongst the dead nor ’mongst the living do I count¹ myself,
965

having as it were a lot apart from these.
970