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Woe for the temples of the gods and for our dear city! Chorus
Ah, ah! Hecuba
Murderous flame and enemy spear are now your lot. Chorus
Soon will you tumble to your own loved soil, and be forgotten. Hecuba
 And the dust, mounting to heaven on wings like smoke, will rob me of the sight of my home. Chorus
The name of my country wiII pass into obscurity; all is scattered far and wide, and hapless Troy has ceased to be. Hecuba
 Did you know, did you hear? Chorus
Yes, it was the crash of the citadel. Hecuba
The shock, the shock— Chorus
Will overwhelm our city utterly. Hecuba
O woe is me! trembling, quaking limbs, support my footsteps! away! to face  the day that begins your slavery. Chorus
Woe for our unhappy town! And yet let us advance to the Achaean fleet.
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