Come, running hounds of Lyssa, come
To Kithairon where Kadmos' daughters
Hold their thiasoi!
Now drive them insane
against the wolf in sheep's clothing,
slinking away to spy on the maidens.
mother will spot him first lying
in wait, & she'll call to the Maenads
Who is this who’s searching
Out the daughters of Kadmos as they
Rush over hills?
to the mountain, going to the mountain oh Bacchae!
Who was it that bore him?
He was certainly born of no
Woman‘s womb, but from a
Or was he the son of Libyan Gorgons?
Who wicked intentions and furious rages
at Bacchus' services and at your mother,
raging in spirit,
P(r)udentopinion is death-
(less) by nature, un-
hesitating towards the divine,
and thinking mortal thoughts, painfree existence;
I do not envy cleverness, but hunt
wisdom joyful and the fan-
tastical shining resplendence of th'eternal ones;
Instead of the finer things, to be
Holy day & night, to toss aside acts
Outside of the law and honor the Divin'ties.
Let Justice shine forth against him
Justice, sword in hand, cut through the
Throat of this unrighteous, lawless,
Born of the land.
Come as a bull or a 5-headed dragon, like a flaming lion, appear--
Come O Bacchus, a wild beast is hunting your Bacchants
Cast the knot tight 'round his neck as he laughs
Crushed to death under
A pile of Maenads.