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Chorus
Younger gods, you have ridden down the ancient laws and have taken them from my hands! And I—dishonored, unhappy, deeply angry— [810] on this land, alas, I will release venom from my heart, venom in return for my grief, drops that the land cannot endure. From it a blight that destroys leaves, destroys children—a just return— [815] speeding over the plain, will cast infection on the land to ruin mortals. I groan aloud. What shall I do? I am mocked by the people. What I have suffered is unbearable. [820] Ah, cruel indeed are the wrongs of the daughters of Night, mourning over dishonor!

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