Chorus: iō iō,
Chorus: Strike, press, bring on the enemy!
Chorus: a murderous rush, and wings everywhere
345
Chorus: Step forward and circle around!
Chorus: as one ought to wail in unison for these things
Chorus: and to give a belch of fodder.
Chorus: for there is neither a shady mountain nor a cloud in the sky
Chorus: nor is there a gray sea that will receive it.
350
Chorus: having escaped this, me.
Birds. Aristophanes. . 2026-09-08.