Birds. Aristophanes. . 2026-09-08.
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Messenger: O you who are doing all things well, O greater than speech,
Messenger: O thrice-blessed bird, race of birds,
Messenger: welcome the tyrant into your blessed homes.
Messenger: for he approaches those who neither have a bright dawn
Messenger: A star shone forth to be seen from a golden-roofed house,
1710
Messenger: nor the radiant light of the sun's rays
Messenger: such a flash has appeared, as comes
Messenger: He has a beauty of a woman not possible to speak,
Messenger: brandishing a thunderbolt, the winged bolt of Zeus;
Messenger: And an unnamed smell reaches the depth of the circle.
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Messenger: Let's go, it's a fine spectacle; but about the incense,
Messenger: The breezes blow away the smoke-wreath.
Messenger: Here he is himself. But one must be silent.
Messenger: Open the holy and well-speaking mouth of the Muse.
Current edition Experimental
English (Sanjaya, generated; selected passages) (OCR draft) (English) (Source: pnadelofficial/aristophanes-sanjaya, commit c319590c139e5603e71f0699caa0663d823af8ad. Machine-generated source annotations retained; see Sanjaya import audit for coverage and limitations.)
Provisional text from uncorrected OCR; expect errors.
Editions (1)
Ὄρνιθες Perseus (Aristophanes. Aristophanis Comoediae, Vol. 1. Hall, F. W. and Geldart, William M., editors. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1906.) — 1706 focus
Ἄγγελος
ὦ πάντʼ ἀγαθὰ πράττοντες, ὦ μείζω λόγου,
ὦ τρισμακάριον πτηνὸν ὀρνίθων γένος,
δέχεσθε τὸν τύραννον ὀλβίοις δόμοις.
προσέρχεται γὰρ οἷς οὔτε παμφαὴς
ἀστὴρ ἰδεῖν ἔλαμψε χρυσαυγεῖ δόμῳ,
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οὔθʼ ἡλίου τηλαυγὲς ἀκτίνων σέλας
τοιοῦτον ἐξέλαμψεν, οἶον ἔρχεται
ἔχων γυναικὸς κάλλος οὐ φατὸν λέγειν,
πάλλων κεραυνόν, πτεροφόρον Διὸς βέλος·
ὀσμὴ δʼ ἀνωνόμαστος ἐς βάθος κύκλου
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χωρεῖ, καλὸν θέαμα· θυμιαμάτων δʼ
αὖραι διαψαίρουσι πλεκτάνην καπνοῦ.
ὁδὶ δὲ καὐτός ἐστιν. ἀλλὰ χρὴ θεᾶς
Μούσης ἀνοίγειν ἱερὸν εὔφημον στόμα.
ὦ πάντʼ ἀγαθὰ πράττοντες, ὦ μείζω λόγου,
ὦ τρισμακάριον πτηνὸν ὀρνίθων γένος,
δέχεσθε τὸν τύραννον ὀλβίοις δόμοις.
προσέρχεται γὰρ οἷς οὔτε παμφαὴς
ἀστὴρ ἰδεῖν ἔλαμψε χρυσαυγεῖ δόμῳ,
1710
οὔθʼ ἡλίου τηλαυγὲς ἀκτίνων σέλας
τοιοῦτον ἐξέλαμψεν, οἶον ἔρχεται
ἔχων γυναικὸς κάλλος οὐ φατὸν λέγειν,
πάλλων κεραυνόν, πτεροφόρον Διὸς βέλος·
ὀσμὴ δʼ ἀνωνόμαστος ἐς βάθος κύκλου
1715
χωρεῖ, καλὸν θέαμα· θυμιαμάτων δʼ
αὖραι διαψαίρουσι πλεκτάνην καπνοῦ.
ὁδὶ δὲ καὐτός ἐστιν. ἀλλὰ χρὴ θεᾶς
Μούσης ἀνοίγειν ἱερὸν εὔφημον στόμα.
Translations (2)
Birds Perseus (Aristophanes. The Complete Greek Drama, Vol. 2. Anonymous, translator. O'Neill, Eugene; Oates, Whitney Jennings, editors. New York: Random House, 1938 (printing).)
No corresponding passage available
Birds (OCR draft) Experimental (Anonymous translation, 1938 compilation; legacy Perseus source migration. Preserved separately from the revised canonical perseus-eng2 at the project owner's request.) — 1706 focus
A Messenger enters.
Messenger
In tragic style.
Oh, you, whose unbounded happiness I cannot express in words, thrice happy race of airy birds, receive your king in your fortunate dwellings. More brilliant than the brightest
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star that illumes the earth, he is approaching his glittering golden palace; the sun itself does not shine with more dazzling glory. He is entering with his bride at his side, whose beauty no human tongue can express; in his hand he brandishes the lightning, the winged shaft of Zeus;
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perfumes of unspeakable sweetness pervade the ethereal realms. 'Tis a glorious spectacle to see the clouds of incense wafting in light whirlwinds before the breath of the zephyr! But here he is himself. Divine Muse! let thy sacred lips begin with songs of happy omen.
Oh, you, whose unbounded happiness I cannot express in words, thrice happy race of airy birds, receive your king in your fortunate dwellings. More brilliant than the brightest
1710
star that illumes the earth, he is approaching his glittering golden palace; the sun itself does not shine with more dazzling glory. He is entering with his bride at his side, whose beauty no human tongue can express; in his hand he brandishes the lightning, the winged shaft of Zeus;
1715
perfumes of unspeakable sweetness pervade the ethereal realms. 'Tis a glorious spectacle to see the clouds of incense wafting in light whirlwinds before the breath of the zephyr! But here he is himself. Divine Muse! let thy sacred lips begin with songs of happy omen.