Capitolo 95
And exactly it is able us we cry
_Beside their fathers, do here is them it placed--
Iron gave their decree, with iron their graves are made--
Alack, the sword that kills, alack the th' putting in the grave spade_!
Alas, a penetrating cry, a moan that lacerates,
A to whine not false of felt of heart pain!
With shivering some pain with torn wounds that start,,
With wailful you escort, allow them to come of here--
For one or other does I complain separated!
Any light complaint of the pity mixed with cheerfulness,
But with the true torn wounds, it poured from the soul of sadness,
On the principles dead and their house the aching ones
Says us, above of these his/her brothers dead,
City of _On, on foreign enemy,
Brave it was their rush, and austere their hit--
Now, modest is them the laid_!
Over all the women on earth
Pain, the pain for her who gave them birth!
Unconsciously, his/her child her bride--
The children of that marriage-bed,
Each in the same-same uterus, was cross--
Each from the hand of a brother lies dead!
Yea, from one seed of theirs they jumped, and from a fate
Their inheritance is desolate,
The division of the heart separated required by application,
And, from their argument, death came!
Now it is their decreased hate,
Now it is their shed of life-brook,
Ensanguining the earth with shade of crimson--
Here, from one blood of theirs they jumped, and in one blood of theirs they lie!
A sorrowful arbiter was given two--
The extraneous one from the principal northerner,
The acute one, dividing sword,
Fresh from the forge and fire
The untrustworthy War-god gave sick prize
And brought the curse of their father to an atrocious fulfilment!
They has their portion--every his/her destiny and decree,
Given by the of the on tall!
Yea, the wealth accumulated of country of origin for grave,,
Them under lie!
Alas, alas! with flowers of the fame and the pride