http://bostonreview.net/BR24.1/dowden.html - quite a good summary.
Reading a real translation seems like a better alternative - what but a pile of syntactically disjointed words will Google produce? Below a bit I chose at random from the play with P speaking
O laß mich, Prothoe! O laß dies Herz
Zwei Augenblick in diesem Strom der Lust,
Wie ein besudelt Kind, sich untertauchen;
Mit jedem Schlag in seine üpp'gen Wellen
Wäscht sich ein Makel mir vom Busen weg.
Die Eumeniden fliehn, die schrecklichen,
Es weht, wie Nahn der Götter um mich her,
Ich möchte gleich in ihren Chor mich mischen,
Zum Tode war ich nie so reif als jetzt.
O let me, Prothoe! Oh, let this heart O Prothoe, O let me be! O let
Two moment in this stream of pleasure, This heart immerse itself for two brief moments
Like a soiled child immerse himself; In this stream of joy, like a dirty child;
With every stroke in his üpp'gen waves With every thrust I make in its rampant waves
Washes a blemish on my breasts away. My bosom is cleansed of an inner blemish.
The Eumenides flee the terrible, The Eumenides, the terrible ones, are fleeing,
It blows like the gods to come near me, An airy motion like the approach of gods
I should like to mix in their choir me Surrounds me and I would straight join their ranks,
To death, I was never so ripe than now. Never have I been so ripe for death as now.
OK, so you can figure something out from the Google "translation", which even has a crazy kind of poetry of its own. My tentative first attempt would need cleaning up. Maybe I'll do it this winter and put it on line.
