"ODE 3"

Love, unconquerable

Waster of rich men, keeper

Of warm lights and all-night vigil

In the soft face of a girl:

Sea-wanderer, forest-visitor!                                                            



Even the pure Immortals cannot escape you,

And mortal man, in his one day's dusk,

Trembles before your glory.



Surely you swerve upon ruin

The just man's consenting heart,                                                        1



As here you have made bright anger

Strike between father and son —

And none has conquered but Love!

A girl’s glance working the will of heaven:

Pleasure to her alone who mocks us,

Merciless Aphrodite.                                            

Author's Notes/Comments: 

from the Fitts and Fitzgerald translation of ANTIGONE

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