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Cover your heaven, Zeus,
With a veil of clouds,
And try yourselve, like a boy
Who beheads thistles,
On oak-trees and mountain-tops;
You still must leave
My earth to me,
And my hut, which you did not build,
And my stove,
For whose glow
You envy me.


I know no more miserable creatures
Under the sun, than you, Gods!
You barely sustain yourself
From sacrificial offerings
And breath of prayers
Your majesty
And would wither, were
Not children and beggars
Hopeful insane.
When I was a child,
And did not know where from or to,
I turned my stray eye toward
The sun, as if beyond there was
An ear to hear my wail,
A heart like mine,
That had mercy with the embattled one.
Who helped me
Against the Titans’ might?
Who saved me from death,
From slavery?
Did you not accomplish it all by yourself,
Holy glowing heart?
And consumed, young and good,
Deceived, awaiting for salvation
By the sleeping one up there?
Shall I honour you?
What for?
Have you softened the pain,
Ever, of a burdened one?
Have you silenced the tears,
Ever, of an anguished one?
Was I not forged into a man
By the almighty time
And the eternal fate?
My masters and yours?
Do you imagine
I should hate life,
Flee to the desert
Because not every flowering
Dream matured and bloomed?


Here I sit, forming humans
In my image;
A people to be like me,
That suffer, that weep,
That enjoy and delight themselves,
And to unheed you
As I do.


~ Translated by Leonardo Villavicencio


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