Thracian parents, at his birth,
Mourn their babe with many a tear,
But, with undissembled mirth,
Place him breathless on his bier.
Greece and Rome, with equal score,
'O the savages!' exclaim,
'Whether they rejoice or mourn,
Well entitled to the name!'
But the cause of this concern
And this pleasure would they trace,
Even they might somewhat learn
From the savages of Thrace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem