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O the sufferings, the sufferings of my city utterly destroyed! Alas, the sacrifices my father offered, the many pasturing cattle slain to save its towers!  Yet they provided no remedy to save the city from suffering even as it has; and I, my soul on fire, must soon fall to the ground. Chorus
Your present speech chimes with your former strain.  Surely some malignant spirit, falling upon you with heavy swoop, moves you to chant your piteous woes fraught with death. But the end I am helpless to discover.
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