Stasimon 1
As these—and woes surpassing these by much.
But not these only: everywhere —
For those who from the land
Of Hellas issued in a band,
Sorrow, the heart must bear,
430
Sits in the home of each, conspicuous there.
Many a circumstance, at least,
Whom any sent away, — he knows:
And in the live man’s stead,
Armour and ashes reach
435
For Ares, gold-exchanger for the dead,
And balance-holder in the fight o’ the spear,
Due-weight from Ilion sends —
What moves the tear on tear —
440
A charred scrap to the friends:
Filling with well-packed ashes every urn,
For man — that was — the sole return.
And they groan — praising much, the while,
Now this man as experienced in the strife,
445
Now that, fallen nobly on a slaughtered pile,
Because of — not his own — another’s wife.
But things there be, one barks,
A surreptitious grief that’s grudge
450
Against the Atreidai who first sought the judge.
But some there, round the rampart, have
In Ilian earth, each one his grave:
