How sharp their wrath, how hard to be appeas'd
When friends with friends begin the cruel strife.
[tr. Wodhull (1782)]

When friends with friends at variance kindle strife,
Fierce is their anger and immedicable.
[tr. Potter (1814)]

Terrible is that anger, and to assuage
Most difficult, when friends with friends join battle.
[tr. Webster (1868)]

There is a something terrible and past all cure, when quarrels arise 'twixt those who are near and dear.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

Dreadful is that anger and irremediable, when friends with friends kindle strife.
[tr. Buckley (1892)]

Awful is wrath, and past all balm of healing,
When they that once loved clash in feud of hate.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1894)]

Dire and beyond all healing is the hate
When hearts that loved are turned to enmity.
[tr. Murray (1906)]

It is a strange form of anger, difficult to cure, when two friends turn upon each other in hatred.
[tr. Warner (1944)]

A terrible thing is temper and knows no cure
When dear ones wrangle and fall to fighting each other.
[tr. Podlecki (1989)]

Terrible and hard to heal is the wrath that comes when kin join in conflict with kin.
[tr. Kovacs (Loeb) (1994)]

Terrible is the anger and almost beyond cure, when strife severs those whom love once joined.
[tr. Davie (1996)]

Friend against friend! An anger most implacable!
[tr. Theodoridis (2004)]

Anger is frightening and hard to remedy
when loved ones join in strife with loved ones.
[tr. Luschnig (2007)]

When members of a family fight like this,
rage pushes them beyond all compromise.
[tr. Johnston (2008)]

It is a deinē anger and past all cure, whenever philoi fall to strife [eris] with philoi.
[tr. Coleridge / Ceragioli / Nagy / Hour25]

Think you, fond men, whose martial pride
Glows 'midst the bleeding ranks of war,
By the couragous spear
The strife of mortals to decide?
Vain are your thoughts: should rage abhor'd
That glories in the purple flood,
The contest only end with blood,
Unsheath'd through angry states would flame the sword.
[tr. Potter (1783)]

Frantic are ye who seek renown
Amid the horrors of th' embattled field,
Who masking guile beneath a laurel crown
With nervous arm the falchion wield,
Not slaughtered thousands can your fury state.
If still success the judgment guide,
If bloody battle right and wrong decide,
Incessant strive must vex each rival state.
[tr. Wodhull (1809)]

Foolish ye, as many as obtain [the renown of] valor by war, foolishly resting form the toils of mortals in the spears of valiant war. For if the contest of blood is to determine [men's quarrels], never will strife leave the cities of men.
[tr. Buckley (1850)]

You are fools, who try to win a reputation for virtue through war and marshalled lines of spears, senselessly putting an end to mortal troubles; for if a bloody quarrel is to decide it, strife will never leave off in the towns of men.
[tr. Coleridge (1891)]

O fools! all ye who try to win the meed of valour through war and serried ranks of chivalry, seeking thus to still this mortal coil, in senselessness; for if bloody contests are to decide, there will never be any lack of strife in the towns of men.
[tr. Coleridge (alt.)]

Madmen, all ye who strive for manhood's guerdons
Battling with shock of lances, seeking ease
Senselessly so from galling of life's burdens!
Never, if blood be arbitress of peace,
Strife between towns of men shall find an ending.
[tr. Way (Loeb) (1912)]

Madness it is to attempt to find virtue in war
and the blades of the spear in the fight,
so ignorantly to relieve the misfortunes of men.
For if a contest of blood is the arbiter, then there will always
be strife in the cities of men.
[tr. Warner (1951)]

You who in earnest ignorance
Would check the deeds of lawless men,
And in the clash of spear on spear
Gain honour -- you are all stark mad!
If men, to settle each dispute
Must needs compete in bloodshed, when
Shall violence vanish, hate be soothed,
Or men and cities live in peace?
[tr. Vellacott (1954), Strophe 2]

Mindless, all of you, who in the strength of spears
and the tearing edge win your valors
by war, thus stupidly trying
to halt the grief of the world.
For if bloody debate shall settle
the issue, never again
shall hate be gone out of the cities of men.
[tr. Lattimore (1956)]

What fools you are, all who seek to gain honour in war and the clash of spear on spear, stupidly trying to solve men’s troubles by death! If they are to be settled by contest of blood, never will strife end among the cities of men.
[tr. Davie (2002)]

You are mad,
You men
Who think that war's
The proof of manhood,
Squabbling with spears and lances --
A futile way
To solve man's problems.
If we settle things
By seeing who can bleed the most,
War will always
Haunt our cities.
[tr. A. Wilson (2007)]

Men! What fools they are when they look for glory with spears on the harsh battlefield!
How foolish your efforts to end men’s pains through slaughter!
If it is blood you wish to be the judge of right or wrong in the arguments between men, then war will never leave the cities.
[tr. Theodoridis (2011)]

You are fools who would acquire virtue in war
and sharpened point of mighty spear --
stupidly coming to terms with toil -- but your death is the price.
And if a conflict of blood decide, then the strife never will
forsake the cities of mankind.
[tr. Ambrose et al. (2018)]

You are fools, who try to win a reputation for virtue [aretē] through war and marshalled lines of spears, senselessly putting an end to mortal troubles [ponos]; for if a bloody quarrel is to decide [krinein] it, strife [eris] will never leave off in the cities [polis] of men
[tr. Coleridge / Helen Heroization Team]

How then too soon can hastiest death supplant
My fate-curst life? Her instrument to my indignity
Being that black fiend Contention; whom would to God might die
To Gods and men; and Anger too, that kindles tyranny
In men most wise, being much more sweet than liquid honey is
To men of pow’r to satiate their watchful enmities;
[tr. Chapman (1611), l. 98ff]

May fierce contention from among the Gods
Perish, and from among the human race,
With wrath, which sets the wisest hearts on fire;
Sweeter than dropping honey to the taste,
But in the bosom of mankind, a smoke!
[tr. Cowper (1791), l. 134ff]

Would that therefore contention might be extinguished from gods and men; and anger, which is wont to impel even the very wisest to be harsh; and which, much sweeter than distilling honey, like smoke, rises in the breasts of men.
[tr. Buckley (1860)]

Accurs’d of Gods and men be hateful strife
And anger, which to violence provokes
E’en temp’rate souls: though sweeter be its taste
Than dropping honey, in the heart of man
Swelling, like smoke.
[tr. Derby (1864)]

May strife perish utterly among gods and men, and wrath that stirreth even a wise man to be vexed, wrath that far sweeter than trickling honey waxeth like smoke in the breasts of men.
[tr. Leaf/Lang/Myers (1891)]

Therefore, perish strife both from among gods and men, and anger, wherein even a righteous man will harden his heart -- which rises up in the soul of a man like smoke, and the taste thereof is sweeter than drops of honey.
[tr. Butler (1898)]

So may strife perish from among gods and men, and anger that setteth a man on to grow wroth, how wise soever he be, and that sweeter far than trickling honey waxeth like smoke in the breasts of men.
[tr. Murray (1924)]

Why, I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey. [tr. Lattimore (1951)]

Ah, let strife and rancor perish from the lives of gods and men, with anger that envenoms even the wise and is far sweeter than slow-dripping honey, clouding the hearts of men like smoke.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1974)]

If only strife could die from the lives of gods and men
and anger that drives the sanest man to flare in outrage --
bitter gall, sweeter than dripping streams of honey,
that swarms in people's chests and blinds like smoke.
[tr. Fagles (1990), l. 126ff]

A hater of society, unjust, and wild, is he
That loves intestine war, being stuff’d with manless cruelty.
[tr. Chapman (1611), ll. 63-64]

He is a wretch, insensible and dead
To all the charities of social life,
Whose pleasure is in civil broils alone.
[tr. Cowper (1791), ll. 75-77]

Tribeless, lawless, homeless is he, who loves horrid civil war.
[tr. Buckley (1860)]

Religious, social, and domestic ties
Alike he violates, who willingly
Would court the horrors of internal strife.
[tr. Derby (1864), ll. 72-74]

He that foments civil discord is a clanless, hearthless outlaw
[tr. Butler (1898)]

A clanless, lawless, hearthless man is he that loveth dread strife among his own folk.
[tr. Murray (1924)]

Alien to clam and custom and hearth fire is he who longs for war -- heartbreaking war with his own people.
[tr. Fitzgerald (1974)]

Lost to the clan,
lost to the hearth, lost to the old ways, that one
who lusts for all the horrors of war with his own people.
[Fagles (1990), ll. 73-75]