English

Ἑλληνική Transliterate

Blessed is he whose life has not tasted of evil .
When God has shaken a house , the winds of madness ,
Lash its breed till the breed is done :
Even so the deep-sea well
Raked by wicked Thracian winds
Scours in its running the subaqueous darkness ,
Churns the silt back from sea-bottom ;
And the windy cliffs roar as they take its shock .

Here on the Labdacid house long we watched it piling ,
Trouble on dead men ' s trouble : no generation
Frees the next from the stroke of God :
Deliverance does not come .
The final branch of Oedipus
Grew in his house , and a lightness hung above it :
To-day they reap with Death ' s red sickle ,
The unwise mouth and the temper who sits in the brain

The power of God man ' s arrogance shall not limit :
Sleep who takes all in his net takes not this ,
Nor the unflagging months of Heaven – ageless the Master
Holds for ever the shimmering courts of Olympus .
For time approaching , and time thereafter ,
And time forgotten , one rule stans :
That greatness never
Shall touch the life of man without destruction .

Hope goes fast and far : to many it carries comfort ,
To many it is but the trick of light-witted desire–
Blind we walk , till the unseen flame has trapped our footsteps .
For old anonymous wisdom has left us a saying
" Of a mind that God leads to destruction
The sign is this – that in the end
Its good is evil . "
Not long shall that mind evade destruction .