EPOPS (IN THE COPPICE)
Epopoi poi popoi, epopoi, popoi, here, here, quick, quick, quick,
my comrades in the air; all you who pillage the fertile lands
of the husbandmen, the numberless tribes who gather and devour
the barley seeds, the swift flying race who sing so sweetly.
And you whose gentle twitter resounds through the fields
with the little cry of tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio, tio;
and you who hop about the branches of the ivy in the gardens;
the mountain birds, who feed on the wild olive berries or the arbutus,
hurry to come at my call, trioto, trioto, totobrix; you also, who snap up
the sharp-stinging gnats in the marshy vales, and you who dwell
in the fine plain of Marathon, all damp with dew, and you, the francolin
with speckled wings; you too, the halcyons, who flit over the swelling
waves of the sea, come hither to hear the tidings; let all the tribes
of long-necked birds assemble here; know that a clever old man has come
to us, bringing an entirely new idea and proposing great reforms.
Let all come to the debate here, here, here, here. Torotorotorotorotix,
kikkobau, kikkobau, torotorotorotorolililix.

PISTHETAERUS
Can you see any bird?

EUELPIDES
By Phoebus, no! and yet I am straining my eyesight to scan the sky.

PISTHETAERUS
'Twas really not worth Epops' while to go and bury himself in the
thicket like a plover when a-hatching.

PHOENICOPTERUS