. . . It Is

Wrong Must Not Win By Technicalities.

But I Will Place This Carefully Fed Pig Within The Crackling Oven; And, I Pray, What Nicer Dish Can E'er Be Given To Man.

I Pray The Gods Will Give Me Some Relief And End This Weary Job. One Long Full Year I've Been Lying Here, On This Rooftop, The Palace Of The Sons Of Atreus, Resting On My Arms, Just Like A Dog. I've Come To Know The Night Sky, Every Star, The Powers We See Glittering In The Sky, Bringing Winter And Summer To Us All, As The Constellations Rise And Sink.

For By The Will Of The Gods Fate Hath Held Sway Since Ancient Days.

If You Pour Oil And Vinegar Into The Same Vessel, You Would Call Them Not Friends But Opponents.