Hekaba 154-176

Oh woe, I am miserable, whatever shall I utter?
What resound, what lament,
I am abject from abject old age,
from slavery unendurable,
unbearable? Oh woe is me.
Who defends me? What race,
what city? My elder vanished,
my children vanished.
Whether here or there, where
do I apprach? Whither shall I go? Where is there
some god or spirit giving succour?
Oh you with evil tidings,
Troian women, bearing evil
calamities, you have destroyed me, utterly destroyed; my life is no longer
desirable in the light.
Oh wretched feet, you have led me,
you have led me in my old age
to this courtyard; oh child, oh daughter
of the most unfortunate mother—come out, oh come out
of this dwelling—hear the voice of your mother.
Oh child, so you might know what, oh what
utterance I heard about your life.

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