I dislike Achilles,
He's a looming threat, majestic
and fatal,
With winged feet he comes and goes
In the pallid agony of Troy.
I mourn for his mother, Thetis,
The goddess of my sea.
But I dislike Achilles,
His thundering wrath.
And I myself am Hector
With that cruel spear piercing my breast
At the Scaean Gates.
To budding mankind
I leave three sanguine words
Fatherland... Freedom... and from numbed lips,
Andromache!