Frogs
Brekekekex koax koax.

Dionysus
Go to hell with your koax
koax and nothing but koax!

Frogs
Rightly so, you busybody.
the Muses of the fine lyre love us
And so does horn-crested Pan, playing his reed pipe.
And the harpist Apollo delights in us as well,
On account of the reed, which as a bridge for his lyre
I nourish in the water of the pond.
Brekekekex koax koax.

Dionysus
I've got blisters,
and for long now my rump's been sweating.
It's going to pop up and say—

Frogs
Brekekekex koax koax.

Dionysus
Song-loving brood,
Stop!

Frogs
No, all the more
will we sing, if ever
On a sunshiny day,
we leaped through the weeds
and the rushes, rejoicing in the song's
diving melodies,
or fleeing Zeus' rain
at the bottom our watery dance—
song we sang
with bubbles and splashes.

Dionysus
Brekekekex koax koax.
I'll just take this from you.

Frogs
Ah, then we'll suffer horribly.

Dionysus
But I suffer worse,
if I explode as I row.

Frogs
Brekekekex koax koax.

Dionysus
Croak on—it doesn't bother me.

Frogs
You bet we'll shout
as much as our throats
can hold, all day long.

Dionysus
Brekekekex koax koax.
You won't beat me with that.

Frogs
And you won't beat us at all.

Dionysus
Nor you me, oh no,
Never! For I will shout
if I have to, all day long,
until I vanquish you with this koax.
brekekekex koax koax.