Χορός πολλὰ τὰ δεινὰ κοὐδὲν ἀνθρώπου δεινότερον πέλει . τοῦτο καὶ πολιοῦ πέραν πόντου χειμερίῳ νότῳ χωρεῖ , περιβρυχίοισιν περῶν ὑπ᾽ οἴδμασιν . θεῶν τε τὰν ὑπερτάταν , Γᾶν ἄφθιτον , ἀκαμάταν , ἀποτρύεται ἰλλομένων ἀρότρων ἔτος εἰς ἔτος ἱππείῳ γένει πολεύων . Χορός κουφονόων τε φῦλον ὀρνίθων ἀμφιβαλὼν ἄγει καὶ θηρῶν ἀγρίων ἔθνη πόντου τ᾽ εἰναλίαν φύσιν σπείραισι δικτυοκλώστοις , περιφραδὴς ἀνήρ : κρατεῖ δὲ μηχαναῖς ἀγραύλου θηρὸς ὀρεσσιβάτα , λασιαύχενά θ᾽ ἵππον ὀχμάζεται ἀμφὶ λόφον ζυγῶν οὔρειόν τ᾽ ἀκμῆτα ταῦρον . Χορός καὶ φθέγμα καὶ ἀνεμόεν φρόνημα καὶ ἀστυνόμους ὀργὰς ἐδιδάξατο καὶ δυσαύλων πάγων ὑπαίθρεια καὶ δύσομβρα φεύγειν βέλη παντοπόρος : ἄπορος ἐπ᾽ οὐδὲν ἔρχεται τὸ μέλλον : Ἅιδα μόνον φεῦξιν οὐκ ἐπάξεται : νόσων δ᾽ ἀμηχάνων φυγὰς ξυμπέφρασται . Χορός σοφόν τι τὸ μηχανόεν τέχνας ὑπὲρ ἐλπίδ᾽ ἔχων τοτὲ μὲν κακόν , ἄλλοτ᾽ ἐπ᾽ ἐσθλὸν ἕρπει , νόμους γεραίρων χθονὸς θεῶν τ᾽ ἔνορκον δίκαν , ὑψίπολις : ἄπολις ὅτῳ τὸ μὴ καλὸν ξύνεστι τόλμας χάριν . μήτ᾽ ἐμοὶ παρέστιος γένοιτο μήτ᾽ ἴσον φρονῶν ὃς τάδ᾽ ἔρδει .

Wonders are many , and none is more wonderful than man . This power spans the sea , even when it surges white before the gales of the south-wind , and makes a path under swells that threaten to engulf him . Earth , too , the eldest of the gods , the immortal , the unwearied , he wears away to his own ends , turning the soil with the offspring of horses as the plows weave to and fro year after year . The light-hearted tribe of birds and the clans of wild beasts and the sea-brood of the deep he snares in the meshes of his twisted nets , and he leads them captive , very-skilled man . He masters by his arts the beast who dwells in the wilds and roams the hills . He tames the shaggy-maned horse , putting the yoke upon its neck , and tames the tireless mountain bull . Speech and thought fast as the wind and the moods that give order to a city he has taught himself , and how to flee the arrows of the inhospitable frost under clear skies and the arrows of the storming rain . He has resource for everything . Lacking resource in nothing he strides towards what must come . From Death alone he shall procure no escape , but from baffling diseases he has devised flights . Possessing resourceful skill , a subtlety beyond expectation he moves now to evil , now to good . When he honors the laws of the land and the justice of the gods to which he is bound by oath , his city prospers . But banned from his city is he who , thanks to his rashness , couples with disgrace . Never may he share my home , never think my thoughts , who does these things !

Many the wonders but nothing is stranger than man . This thing crosses the sea in the winter’s storm , making his path through the roaring waves . And she , the greatest of gods , the Earth — ageless she is , and unwearied — he wears her away as the ploughs go up and down from year to year and his mules turn up the soil . Lighthearted nations of birds he snares and leads , wild beast tribes and the salty brood of the sea , with the twisted mesh of his nets , this clever man .
He controls with craft the beasts of the open air , walkers on hills . The horse with his shaggy mane he holds and harnesses , yoked about the neck , and the strong bull of the mountain . Language , and thought like the wind and the feelings that govern a city , he has taught himself , and shelter against the cold , refuge from rain . He can always help himself . He faces no future helpless . There’s only death that he cannot find an escape from . He has contrived refuge from illnesses once beyond all cure . Clever beyond all dreams the inventive craft that he has which may drive him one time to good or another to evil . When he honors the laws of the land and the gods’ sworn right high indeed is his city ; but cityless the man who dares to dwell with dishonor . Not by my fireside , never to share my thoughts , who does these things .