Chorus
Halcyon bird, you that sing your fate as a lament
[1090]
beside the rocky ridges of the sea, a cry easily understood by the wise, that you are always chanting for your husband; I, wingless bird that I am, compare
[1095]
my laments with yours, in my longing for the festivals of Hellas, and for Artemis of childbirth, who dwells beside the Cynthian mountain and the palm with delicate leaves
[1100]
and the well-grown laurel and the holy shoot of gray-green olive, Leto's dear child, and the lake that rolls about its ripples, where the melodious swan
[1105]
serves the Muses.