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Orestes Monologue from Electra

From Electra by Euripides

male · anguished · 41 sec

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Apollo, alas for the hymn Thou sangest, as hope in mine ear! The Song was of Justice dim, But the Deed is anguish clear; And the Gift, long nights of fear, Of blood and of wandering, Where cometh no Greek thing, Nor sight, nor sound on the air. Yea, and beyond, beyond, Roaming--what rest is there? Who shall break bread with me? Who, that is clean, shall see And hate not the blood-red hand, His mother's murderer?

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