Chorus
[472] If I am not a deranged prophet and one who lacks wise judgments, [475] Justice, the sender of the omen, will come, winning the just victory of her hands' might. She will come in pursuit before long, my child. Courage is mine, [480] since I heard just now of this sweet-blowing dream. Never does the lord of the Hellenes, your producer forget, [485] nor does the axe of long ago forget, striking with bronze on its jaws, which in most shameless disgrace annihilated him.
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