The Libation Bearers
oh, the torment bred in the race,
the grinding screech of death
and the stroke that hits the vein
the hemorrhage none can staunch, the grief,
the curse no man can bear.
but there is a cure in the house,
and not outside it no,
not from others, but from them
their bloody strife. we sing to you,
dark gods beneath the earth.
now hear, you blissful powers underground -
answer the call, send help.
bless the children, give them triumph now.