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Keep him from me, Earth! I tremble
Gazing on the herdsman myriad eyed. 580 (581)
Still with crafty look he follows,
Whom, even dead, earth cannot cover.
But from among the dead he passes out
To hound me down and drive me to and fro,
Hungering and wretched, on the seashore sands. 585 (586)
Strophe.
And still his wax-joined shrilling reed
Pipes to a sleepy strain.
Alas, alas for me! Oh whither lead
These wanderings o'er and o'er again?
Oh son of Kronos, how, how didst thou find me sin
That thou hast laid on me this yoke of woes? 591 (594)
And thus dost haraass me, poor wretch, crazed by the fear
Of the gadfly's maddening stings?
Oh! let fire consume me, or let the earth unclose
And hide me in, 595 (597)
Or let me be a prey to ravening monsters of the sea.
Deny not, oh deny not, lord, this prayer to me;
Enough have I been tried with many wanderings;
And nowhere find I means to learn how I may be
