The Greek Drama in Translation

AGAMEMNON, proud in life,
Was murdered by a jealous wife.
And all the chorus thought to say
Was, Woe! O woe! and well-a-day!

Sirrah, what hapt? Orestes cried,
And plunged a broadsword through the side
Of Clytemnestra; left her faint.
Ignored her nineteenth century plaint.

Medea slew her children all.
She cut them up in pieces small.
Then cocked her ear, What sayest thou?
And Jason asked, Why slayest thou?

Prometheus, bright fire-giver,
Suffered horrors with his liver.
When his transgressions had been found,
He said to Zeus, Well, I’ll be bound.

Theseus, in aggravation,
Stilled his sweet son’s supplication,
Killed him off with father’s curse.
The sword’s less deadly than the verse.

I pour out a rich libation,
Damning each in its translation.
Yet public domain still holds sway.
O woe! O woe! O well-a-day!