A poem by Aeschylus (c. 525 – c. 456 Before Christ )
STROPHE IV
Though Zeus plan all things right,
Yet is his heart’s desire full hard to trace;
Nathless in every place
Brightly it gleameth, e’en in darkest night,
Fraught with black fate to man’s speech-gifted race.
ANTISTROPHE IV
Steadfast, ne’er thrown in fight,
The deed in brow of Zeus to ripeness brought;
For wrapt in shadowy night,
Tangled, unscanned by mortal sight,
Extend the pathways of his secret thought.
STROPHE V
From towering hopes mortals he hurleth prone
To utter doom; but for their fall
No force arrayeth he; for all
That gods devise is without effort wrought.
A mindful Spirit aloft on holy throne
By inborn energy achieves his thought.
ANTISTROPHE V
But let him mortal insolence behold:–
How with proud contumacy rife,
Wantons the stem in lusty life
My marriage craving;–frenzy over-bold,
Spur ever-pricking, goads them on to fate,
By ruin taught their folly all too late.
STROPHE VI
Thus I complain, in piteous strain,
Grief-laden, tear-evoking, shrill;
Ah woe is me! woe! woe!
Dirge-like it sounds; mine own death-trill
I pour, yet breathing vital air.
Hear, hill-crowned Apia, hear my prayer!
Full well, O land,
My voice barbaric thou canst understand;
While oft with rendings I assail
My byssine vesture and Sidonian veil.
ANTISTROPHE VI
My nuptial right in Heaven’s pure sight
Pollution were, death-laden, rude;
Ah woe is me! woe! woe!
Alas for sorrow’s murky brood!
Where will this billow hurl me? Where?
Hear, hill-crowned Apia, hear my prayer;
Full well, O land,
My voice barbaric thou canst understand,
While oft with rendings I assail
My byssine vesture and Sidonian veil.
STROPHE VII
The oar indeed and home with sails
Flax-tissued, swelled with favoring gales,
Staunch to the wave, from spear-storm free,
Have to this shore escorted me,
Nor so far blame I destiny.
But may the all-seeing Father send
In fitting time propitious end;
So our dread Mother’s mighty brood,
The lordly couch may ‘scape, ah me,
Unwedded, unsubdued!
ANTISTROPHE VII
Meeting my will with will divine,
Daughter of Zeus, who here dost hold
Steadfast thy sacred shrine,–
Me, Artemis unstained, behold,
Do thou, who sovereign might dost wield,
Virgin thyself, a virgin shield;
So our dread Mother’s mighty brood
The lordly couch may ‘scape, ah me,
Unwedded, unsubdued!
A few random poems:
- Валерий Брюсов – Песня североамериканских индейцев
- Extempore in the Court of Session by Robert Burns
- in_between_the_strophes.html
- Владислав Крапивин – На Диком Западе
- Sonnet VII. To Solitude poem – John Keats poems
- Ballade Of Worldly Wealth poem – Andrew Lang poems
- Владимир Британишский – Космонавты
- Владимир Бенедиктов – Не трать огня напрасных убеждений
- The Art of Cake Decorating – A Beginners Recommendation For Cake Decorating Books
- Владимир Британишский – Философы! Не верьте островам
- It’s Dark in Here by Shel Silverstein
- Writing Strategy: On Getting Inspired Everyday
- In Uncertainty To A Lady poem – Aldous Huxley poems | Poetry Monster
- Владимир Британишский – Дороги
- Off Mesolongi poem – Alfred Austin
External links
Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus
Talking Writing Monster’s Page –
Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh
Poems in English
- Meg Merrilies poem – John Keats poems
- Lines On The Mermaid Tavern poem – John Keats poems
- Lines from Endymion poem – John Keats poems
- Lines poem – John Keats poems
- Last Sonnet poem – John Keats poems
- La Belle Dame Sans Merci poem – John Keats poems
- Keen, Fitful Gusts are Whisp’ring Here and There poem – John Keats poems
- Isabella or The Pot of Basil poem – John Keats poems
- John Keats – John Keats Poems
- In Drear-Nighted December poem – John Keats poems
- If By Dull Rhymes Our English Must Be Chain’d poem – John Keats poems
- Hyperion poem – John Keats poems
- Hymn To Apollo poem – John Keats poems
- How Many Bards Gild The Lapses Of Time! poem – John Keats poems
- Hither, Hither, Love poem – John Keats poems
- His Last Sonnet poem – John Keats poems
- Happy Is England! I Could Be Content poem – John Keats poems
- Give Me Women, Wine, and Snuff poem – John Keats poems
- Fragment of an Ode to Maia poem – John Keats poems
- Fill For Me A Brimming Bowl poem – John Keats poems
More external links (open in a new tab):
Doska or the Board – write anything
Search engines:
Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)
Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.
Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees
Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.
Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.
Parallel Translations of Poetry
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Aeschylus (525 Before Christ to 456 B.C.) was an ancient Greek author of Greek tragedy, and is often described as the father of tragedy. Academics’ knowledge of the genre begins with his work, and understanding of earlier Greek tragedy is largely based on inferences made from reading his surviving plays. According to Aristotle, he expanded the number of characters in the theatre and allowed conflict among them.