Persians

Aeschylus

Aeschylus, Volume 1. Smyth, Herbert Weir, translator. London; New York: William Heinemann; G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1922.

  1. led forth (woe!), the ships laid them low (woe!), the ships, under the deadly impact of the foe and by the hands of Ionians.
  2. The King himself, as we learn, has barely made his escape over the wintry paths which traverse the plains of Thrace.
Chorus
  1. And they who were first to meet their doom (alas!), left behind by dire necessity (alas!),
  2. are swept along the Cychrean strand (woe!). Groan and gnash your teeth; in grievous strain shout forth our woes till they reach the heavens (alas!), raise high
  3. your wailing clamor in cries of misery.
Chorus
  1. Lacerated by the swirling waters (alas!) they are gnawed (alas!) by the voiceless children of the undefiled sea (alas!). The home, bereaved of his presence, laments its head;
  2. and parents, bereft of their children, in their old age bewail their heaven- sent woes (alas!), now that they learn the full measure of their afflictions.
Chorus
  1. Not now for long will those who dwell throughout the length and breadth of Asia
  2. abide under the sway of the Persians, nor will they pay further tribute at the compulsion of their lord, nor will they prostrate themselves to the earth and do him reverence;
  3. for the royal power has perished utterly.
  1. No longer will men keep a curb upon their tongues; for the people are set free to utter their thoughts at will, now that the yoke of power has been broken.
  2. The blood-stained soil of Ajax’ sea-washed isle holds all that once was Persia.
Enter Atossa
Atossa
  1. My friends, whoever has experience of misery knows that when a sea
  2. of troubles comes upon mortal men, they view all things with alarm; but when fortune flows with prosperous tide, they believe that this same fortune will forever bring them success. Now in my case everything seems full of dread; before my eyes appears the enmity of the gods,
  3. and in my ears there rings a sound that has no note of joy; such is my consternation at the evil tidings which terrify my soul. It is for this reason that I have come here from the palace once again, without my chariot and my former pomp, and bring, as propitiatory libations for the father of my son,
  4. offerings that soothe the dead, both white milk, pleasant to drink, from an unblemished cow, and bright honey, distillation wrought from blossoms by the bee, together with lustral water from a virgin spring;
  5. and from a rustic source, this unmixed draught, the quickening juice of an ancient vine. Here too is the fragrant fruit of the pale-green olive that lives the entirety of its life in luxuriant foliage; and garlanded flowers, produce of the bounteous earth. But come, my friends,
  6. chant solemn songs as I make these libations to the dead, and summon forth the divine spirit of Darius, while I convey, in honor of the gods, these offerings for the earth to drink.