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Philoctetes
Oh unhappy man that I am,
dishonored in my suffering:
I will never, never behold
another man to share my grief,
1105but soon will perish here -
oh oh oh oh! -
bringing food to my home no more
such as once, with my wingèd shafts
held in my mighty hands, I
1110caught; but now the deceitful words
born of a treacherous mind have snared me.
Oh how I wish that he,
he who has brought all this evil on me,
could feel my never-ending pain.
chorus
1115 Only fate has done this to you.
As for me I have not lent
my hand to any guile: so speak your
dreadful ill-fated curse on others.
My only wish is that you will
1120not now reject my friendship.
The women of Trachis and Philoctetes. A new translation in verse by Robert Torrance. Houghton Mifflin. 1966.
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