The next time we hear the Chorus is the First Ode. This little ditty just happens to be the most famous choral ode in all of Greek tragedy, and is popularly referred to as the "Ode to Man." In this celebrated ode the Chorus sings about all the wonderful accomplishments of man. The word "wonderful" in Greek is deinon . It can also describe something that is terrible. In a way, the word means both wonderful and terrible at the same time. But how could all of man's accomplishments be both of those things at once?
Let's take a look at the achievements that the Chorus lists. Humanity has: built ships to conquer the seas, crafted plows to tame the earth, bent animals to his will, raised houses to defeat the rain and the snow. Do you notice a common thread here? Nearly everything is about humanity asserting its will over nature. This echoes the basic conflict of the play.
Creon represents the state or man-made civilization. Antigone represents the primal will of the gods, . nature. The storm outside of Thebes and the auguries of Teiresias hint that nature is offended by Creon's actions and stands on the side of Antigone. When all of Creon's family members kill themselves by the end of the play, it's as if nature itself is taking payment for his sacrilege. In a way, all of man's accomplishments could be seen as being just as terrible as they are wonderful. Each time we take a step forward, we separate ourselves father from the place that we began.
The Chorus ends the "Ode to Man" by praising the laws of the city. They disdain anybody who would want to bring anarchy back to Thebes:
The sarus crane is fully protected in all of the countries within which it occurs, and international trade is restricted by the listing of this species on Appendix II of the Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES) (7) . With the exception of Laos and Myanmar, all range states are also signatories to the Ramsar Convention on Wetlands, which encourages international cooperation for the conservation of these vital ecosystems (11) . Although mainly associated with private lands, these cranes are also found within a number of protected areas such as Keoladeo National Park in Rajasthan, India, Ang Trapeang Thmor, Cambodia and Tram Chim National Park, Vietnam (2) . Education campaigns have been carried out in India, Nepal, Laos and Cambodia (2) and the Wildlife Institute of India has organised a national census of this species from 1999 to 2002 (7) (12) . The Indian Cranes and Wetlands Working Group have continued these counts since 2005. The adequate preservation of suitable wetland habitat and sustaining existing land use practices will be the key to ensuring the survival of this emotive and elegant bird (6) (8) .
As noted above, the Guardsmen are doubles for the rank-and-file fascist collaborators or collabos of his day. Their indifference makes them brutal and dangerous. The most poignant staging of his indifference is undoubtedly that in Antigone's cell. The pathos of the scene inheres in Antigone's appeals to the last face she will see, a face that is blind, brutal, and indifferent. The First Guard, as small-minded as ever, responds unfeelingly to her pleas, rambling about the trivialities of his job. As with the discussion of the party during Antigone's arrest, Anouilh would thus contrast his heroine's high tragedy with the banalities that occupy the guardsmen. The Guards also stand in for the inappropriate spectator, the audience-member who remains inured to the tragic. Thus they make two ironic appearances at the beginning and end of the play, playing cards on the palace steps. As the Chorus remarks in the epilogue, they remain untouched by the tragedy—"it's no skin off their noses." The indifferent members of the rank-and-file would thus stand in an almost edifying contrast to the audience that has undergone, or should have undergone, its catharsis.