Frogs
Brekekekex koax koax.
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Dionysus
Go to hell with your koax
koax and nothing but koax!
Frogs
Rightly so, you busybody.
the Muses of the fine lyre love us
And so does horn-crested Pan, playing his reed pipe.
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And the harpist Apollo delights in us as well,
On account of the reed, which as a bridge for his lyre
I nourish in the water of the pond.
Brekekekex koax koax.
Dionysus
I've got blisters,
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and for long now my rump's been sweating.
It's going to pop up and say—
Frogs
Brekekekex koax koax.
Dionysus
Song-loving brood,
Stop!
305
Frogs
No, all the more
will we sing, if ever
On a sunshiny day,
we leaped through the weeds
and the rushes, rejoicing in the song's
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diving melodies,
or fleeing Zeus' rain
at the bottom our watery dance—
song we sang
with bubbles and splashes.
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Dionysus
Brekekekex koax koax.
I'll just take this from you.
Frogs
Ah, then we'll suffer horribly.
Dionysus
But I suffer worse,
if I explode as I row.
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Frogs
Brekekekex koax koax.
Dionysus
Croak on—it doesn't bother me.
Frogs
You bet we'll shout
as much as our throats
can hold, all day long.
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Dionysus
Brekekekex koax koax.
You won't beat me with that.
Frogs
And you won't beat us at all.
Dionysus
Nor you me, oh no,
Never! For I will shout
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if I have to, all day long,
until I vanquish you with this koax.
brekekekex koax koax.
Frogs. Aristophanes. Matthew Dillon (Translator). . 2026-09-08.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.