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Chorus
Ah! my loved husband, you are a wandering spectre;
unwashed, unburied lies your corpse, while over the sea the ship sped by wings will carry me to
Argos
, land of steeds, where stand Cyclopian walls of stone reaching to heaven. There in the gate the children gather,
1085
and weep their piteous lamentation; they cry, they cry: Mother, alas! torn from your sight, the Achaeans bear me away from you to their dark ship
1090
to row me over the deep to sacred
Salamis
or to the hill on the Isthmus, that overlooks two seas, the seat that holds the gates of Pelops.
1095
Ah! my loved husband, you are a wandering spectre;
unwashed, unburied lies your corpse, while over the sea the ship sped by wings will carry me to
Argos
, land of steeds, where stand Cyclopian walls of stone reaching to heaven. There in the gate the children gather,
1085
and weep their piteous lamentation; they cry, they cry: Mother, alas! torn from your sight, the Achaeans bear me away from you to their dark ship
1090
to row me over the deep to sacred
Salamis
or to the hill on the Isthmus, that overlooks two seas, the seat that holds the gates of Pelops.
1095
The Trojan Women. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.
Funding provided by The Annenberg CPB/Project.