Άντιστροφή

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Άντιστροφή

Cloud maidens that bring the rain-shower,

To the Pallas-loved land let us wing,

To the land of stout heroes and Power,

Where Kekrops was hero and king,

Where honour and silence is given

To the mysteries that none may declare,

Where are gifts to the high gods in heaven

When the house of the gods is laid bare,

Where are lofty roofed temples, and statues well carven and fair;

Where are feasts to the happy immortals

When the sacred procession draws near,

Where garlands make bright the bright portals

At all seasons and months in the year;

And when spring days are here,

Then we tread to the wine-god a measure,

In Bacchanal dance and in pleasure,

’Mid the contests of sweet singing choirs,

And the crash of loud lyres.