Capitolo 85
Vainly! and all of us beaten the of the you/they have put in relief,
And turned us to despise!
Him haths slipped from the net that we pursued: him
hath 'the scaped us who our prey should be--
Sleep O'ermastered we sank, and our excavations stolen hath away!
You, child of the tall God Zeus, Apollo hasts stole us and they offended;
You, a youth, hast in down-trodden the right that is more godships
venerable old man belonged;
You hasts tenderly took care of thy suppliant man; the slayer the God-desolate one,
A parent's bad luck, from art from out of our taking you taken hast:
A god, you hast stolen by us the avengers a matricidal child--
And that it will consider action of thy and will it say, _It rightfully_ is?
The sound to scold contempt
Come by the earth of dream;
Depth to dig intimate heart I felt him/it enthusiasms and you burn,
You thrust as a strong-grabbed sting to exhort,
Before the team of the wagon.
Excited, it cooled with inside and bitter pain
I am standing as a bottom of the scourge of the doomsman.
The shame on the more young people of the that they tread down right,
Sitting on thrones of forces!
The pain on the altar of the do of it central of earth!
You clotted on footstep and shrine,
See, blood's guilt, the horrible stain!
The pain on thee, Apollo! uncontrolled,
Unbidden, hast you, the prophet-god, imbrued
The prophetic and pure shrine with wrong blood!
For you too much atrocious a taking of didst of respect
Of man, small attention too much of the powers foretells!
And us the Fates, the earth's venerable old men,
Didst holds as nothing value.
Disdainful to me you the art, shalts don't defend yet
My anger from him; although to hell he runs away,
There be also us!
And him the defiled of the blood, should feel and it should be sorry himself/herself/themselves,
Although I was not, demon-anger that won't end,
Coming down on his/her head that dishonestly killed.
[_Re-digiti Apollo from the shrine._ I intern