Literal Translation:

After the bard of Mt. Rhodope sufficiently mourned her in upper airs, 

in order that he might not test the shades,

he dared to descend to the River Styx by means of the gate of Taenarus,

through both the light crowd and the ghosts having suffered in burial.

He approached Persophone and the power restraining the gloomy kingdom

of the shades, the ruler, and with strings having been played to song

he spoke in this way: “O divinities of the world placed beneath the earth

in which we return, whichever are created mortal

if it is allowed and, with the uncertainty of false lips having been set down,

y’all permit truths to be spoken, I am not at this place so that I might see darkened 

Tarturus, I descended, not to bind the 

three necks of Medusa’s monster, hairy with snakes.

The cause for my path is my wife, in whom a trampled on a serpent 

diffused venom and having taken away her coming years.

I wished to be able to endure, nor will I deny that I, myself, attempted to; 

Love conquered. This god is well known in the region above,

whether this one may be here, though, I question. But all the same, though, I predict that he is here. 

And, supposing that the rumor of the ancient pillaging is not untrue,

love has joined y’all also. I, by these places full of dread,

by this huge Chaos and the stillness of this lonely kingdom,

I entreat you to unravel the hastened thread of Eurydice!

Everything is owed to y’all, and having lingered a little, 

later or sooner, we hasten to one chair.

All proceed here, this is the final house, and you

hold the greatest reign over the human race.

She as well, when mature, having exhausted her justified years

will be yours to rule: we beg for this practice with a service

But if fate denies this indulgence for my wife, it is certain

for me to be unwilling to return: y’all enjoy the ruin of two.”

Saying such things and moving strings to his words, 

bloodless souls were weeping; neither Tantalus did 

capture the receding water, the wheel of Ixion ceased to turn, 

nor did the birds pluck his liver, the Belides are freed 

from their urns, and you, Sisyphus, sat upon your rock.

It is rumored that, for the first time, the cheeks of the Furies, having been conquered by song, were wet with tears; neither was the regal wife

able to tolerate the pleading, nor he who rules the lowest, able to deny,

They call Eurydice