O had he first been swept away, <br />Through air by wild winds tossed, <br />Or sunk from Heaven's ethereal ray, <br />To Pluto's dreary coast. <br />Who trained the Grecians to the field, <br />Taught them the sword, the spear to wield, <br />And steeled the gentle mind! <br />Hence toil gives birth to toil again, <br />Hence carnage stains the ensanguined plain, <br />For he destroyed mankind. <br /> <br />Nor the brow with chaplets bound, <br />Breathing balmy odours round, <br />Nor the social glow of soul, <br />Kindling o’er the generous bowl, <br />Nor the dulcet strain that rings <br />Jocund from the sounding strings, <br />Nor endearing love’s delight, <br />Which with rapture fills the night, <br />Me will he permit to prove, <br />He, alas! hath murdered love. <br />But neglected here I lie, <br />Open to the inclement sky; <br />And my rough and matted hair <br />Drinks the dews of night's moist air, <br />Memorials sad of Troy. <br />Yet till now, when pale affright <br />Rolled her hideous form through night <br />Great in arms, thy shield to oppose, <br />Ajax at his rampire rose, <br />And my terror was no more. <br />Now the hero I deplore, <br />To the gloomy god consigned, <br />Now, what joy can touch the mind? <br />O that on the pine-clad brow, <br />Darkening o’er the sea below, <br />Where the cliffs of Sunium rise, <br />Rocky bulwarks to the skies, <br />I were placed—with sweet address <br />Sacred Athens would I bless, <br />And feel a social joy.<br /><br />James Clerk Maxwell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/specimen-of-translation-from-the-ajax-of-sophocl/
