ὦ φιλτάτη χείρ, φίλτατον δέ μοι στόμα καὶ σχῆμα καὶ πρόσωπον εὐγενὲς τέκνων, εὐδαιμονοῖτον, ἀλλ᾽ ἐκεῖ: τὰ δ᾽ ἐνθάδε πατὴρ ἀφείλετ᾽. ὦ γλυκεῖα προσβολή, ὦ μαλθακὸς χρὼς πνεῦμά θ᾽ ἥδιστον τέκνων.
O hands and lips so dear to me, o noble face and bearing of my children, I wish you happiness—but in that other place. What is here your father has taken away. Oh, how sweet is the touch, how tender the skin, how fragrant the breath of these children
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