"Shall I dance them again, the nightlong dances?

Dance again with bare feet in the dew?

Shall I toss my head and skip through the penn fields

as a fawn slipped free of the hunt and the hunters,

leaping their nets, out-running their hounds?

She runs like a gale runs over the plain

near the river, each bound

and plunge like a gust of joy, taking her

dancing, deep through the forest

where no one can find her, and the dark

is free and its heart is the darkest green?"

- Robin Robertson's translation of the 'Bacchae' 

Painting by Arthur B. Davies.