lament once more through lips divine for Itys, your dead child and mine, the one we’ve cried for all this time.

Sing out your music’s liquid trill in that vibrato voice—the thrill which echoes in those purest tones through leafy haunts of yew trees roams and rises up to Zeus’s throne.

Apollo with the golden hair sits listening to your music there— and in response he plucks his string— his lyre of ivory then brings the gods themselves to dance and sing.

Then from gods’ mouths in harmony

come sounds of sacred melody.

By lord Zeus, that little birdie’s got a voice! She pours her honey all through that thicket!

Hey!

What?

Shut up.

Why?

That hoopoe bird—

he’s all set to sing another song.

Epo-popo-popo-popo-popoi,

Io, io, ito, ito, ito, ito.

Come here to me, all you with feathers just like mine,

all you who live in country fields fresh-ploughed, still full of seed, and all you thousand tribes who munch on barley corn who gather up the grain,

and fly at such a speed and utter your sweet cries, all you who in the furrows there twitter on the turned-up earth, and sweetly sing tio tio tio tio tio tio tio tio.

All those of you who like to scavenge food from garden ivy shoots,

all you in the hills up there

who eat from olive and arbutus trees. come here as quickly as you can, fly here in answer to this call— trio-to trio-to toto-brix!

And every one of you in low-lying marshy ground who snap sharp-biting gnats, by regions of well-watered land, and lovely fields of Marathon, all you variously coloured birds,

godwits and francolins— I’m calling you.

You flocks who fly across the seas

across the waves with halcyons come here to learn the news. We’re all assembling here, all tribes of long-neck birds. A shrewd old man’s arrived— he’s here with a new plan, a man of enterprise,

all set to improvise. So gather all of you to hear his words.

Come here, come here, come here, come here. Toro-toro toro-toro-tix Kik-kabau, kik-kabau.

Toro-toro toro-toro li-li-lix.

Seen any birds lately?

No, by Apollo, I haven’t— even though I’m staring up into the sky,

not even blinking.

It seems to me that hoopoe bird was just wasting time hiding, like a curlew, in that thicket, and screaming out his bird calls—

[imitating Tereus] Po-poi po-poi. . . .

Toro-tix, toro-tix.

Hey, my good man, here comes a bird.

By Zeus, that’s a bird? What kind would you call that? It couldn’t be a peacock, could it?

Tereus here will tell us. Hey, my friend,

what’s that bird there?

Not your everyday fowl— the kind you always see. She’s a marsh bird.

My goodness, she’s gorgeous—flaming red!

Naturally, that’s why she’s called Flamingo.

Hey . . .

What is it?

Another bird’s arrived.

You’re right. By god, this one looks really odd.

Who’s this bizarre bird-prophet of the Muse, this strutter from the hills?

He’s called the Mede.

He’s a Mede? By lord Hercules, how come a Mede flew here without his camel?

Here’s another one . . .

. . . what a crest of feathers!

What’s this marvel? You’re not the only hoopoe?

This here’s another one?

He’s my grandson—

son of Philocles the Hoopoe—it’s like those names you pass along, when you call Hipponicus the son of Callias, and Callias son of Hipponicus.

So this bird is Callias. His feathers— he seems to have lost quite a few.

Yes, that’s true— being a well-off bird he’s plucked by parasites,

and female creatures flock around him, too, to yank his plumage out.

By Poseidon, here’s another bright young bird. What’s it called?

This one’s the Glutton-bird.

Another glutton? Cleonymus is not the only one?

If this bird were like our Cleonymus,

wouldn’t he have thrown away his crest?

Why do all the birds display such head crests? Are they going to run a race in armour?

No, my dear fellow, they live up on the crests,

because it’s safer, like the Carians.

Holy Poseidon, do you see those birds! What a fowl bunch of them—all flocking here!

Lord Apollo, there’s a huge bird cloud! Wow! So many feathered wings in there I can’t see a way through all those feathers to the wings.

Hey, look—a partridge, and that one over there, by Zeus, a francolin—there’s a widgeon— and that’s a halcyon!

What’s the one behind her?

What is it? It’s a spotted shaver.

Shaver?

You mean there’s a bird that cuts our hair?

Why not? After all, there’s that barber in the city— the one we all call Sparrow Sporgilos.

Here comes an owl.

Well, what about that? Who brings owls to Athens?

. . . a turtle dove, a jay, lark, sedge bird . . .

. . . finch, pigeon . . .

. . . falcon, hawk, ring dove . . .

. . . cuckoo, red shank . . .

. . . fire-crest . . .

. . . porphyrion, kestrel, dabchick, bunting, vulture, and that one’s there’s a . . . [He’s stumped]

. . woodpecker!!

What a crowd of birds! A major flock of fowls!

All that twitter as they prance around, those rival cries! . . . Oh, oh, what’s going on? Are they a threat? They’re looking straight at us— their beaks are open!

It looks that way to me.

To-toto-to to-toto-to to-to.

Here comes an owl.

Well, what about that? Who brings owls to Athens?

. . . a turtle dove, a jay, lark, sedge bird . . .

. . . finch, pigeon . . .

. . . falcon, hawk, ring dove . . .

. . . cuckoo, red shank . . .

. . . fire-crest . . .

. . . porphyrion, kestrel, dabchick, bunting, vulture, and that one’s there’s a . . . [He’s stumped]

. . woodpecker!!

What a crowd of birds! A major flock of fowls!

All that twitter as they prance around, those rival cries! . . . Oh, oh, what’s going on? Are they a threat? They’re looking straight at us— their beaks are open!

It looks that way to me.

To-toto-to to-toto-to to-to.

Who’s been calling me? Where’s he keep his nest?

I’m the one. I’ve been waiting here a while. I’ve not left my bird friends in the lurch.

Ti-tit-ti ti-tit-ti ti-ti-ti-ti

tell me as a friend what you have to say.

I have news for all of us—something safe, judicious, sweet, and profitable. Two men have just come here to visit me, two subtle thinkers . . .

What? What are you saying?

I’m telling you two old men have arrived—

they’ve come from lands where human beings live and bring the stalk of a stupendous plan.

You fool! This is the most disastrous thing since I was hatched. What are you telling us?

Don’t be afraid of what I have to say.

What have you done to us?

I’ve welcomed here two men in love with our society.

You dared to do that?

Yes, indeed, I did. And I’m very pleased I did so.

These two men of yours, are they among us now?

Yes, as surely as I am.

Aaaiiii! Aaaiii! He’s cheated us, he’s done us wrong. That friend of ours,

who all along has fed with us in fields we share,