Night, Mother Night, who brought me forth, a torment
To living men and dead,
Hear me, O hear! by Leto's stripling son
I am dishonoured:
He hath ta'en from me him who cowers in refuge,
To me made consecrates-
A rightful victim, him who slew his mother,
Given o'er to me and fate.
refrain 1
Hear the hymn of hell,
O'er the victim sounding,-
Chant of frenzy, chant of ill,
Sense and will confounding!
Round the soul entwining
Without lute or lyre-
Soul in madness pining,
Wasting as with fire!
antistrophe 1
Fate, all-pervading Fate, this service spun, commanding
That I should bide therein:
Whosoe'er of mortals, made perverse and lawless,
Is stained with blood of kin,
By his side are we, and hunt him ever onward,
Till to the Silent Land,
The realm of death, he cometh; neither yonder
In freedom shall he stand.
Studies
