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Philoctetes
O birds of the air, O bright-eyed tribes
of wandering beasts who inhabit
this rocky, mountainous pasture-land:
no longer need you flee from your lairs,
1150for I will never hold in my hands
the arrows which used to protect me.
Oh how miserable am I now!
Roam wherever you wish: the land
no longer is dangerous for you;
1155now it is only just that you
should take my blood in return for yours
and sate yourselves on my yellowed flesh.
Soon I shall leave this life of mine.
How can I find myself a living?
1160How can a man with none of the gifts
the nourishing earth supplies to others
feed himself on the winds of the air?
chorus
In God's name, if you respect a friendly stranger,
come to me as I come to you.
1165Pray consider, consider well
how you may flee from this plague.
It eats without remorse, and no one
ever could learn to endure such pain.
The women of Trachis and Philoctetes. A new translation in verse by Robert Torrance. Houghton Mifflin. 1966.
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