to be honred: they
taught me their craft
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This dust was Timas; and they say
She found her bridal home to beThe dark house of Persephone.And many maidens, knowing thenThat she would not come back again,Unbound their curls; and all in tears,They cut them off with sharpened shears.
Dapple-throned Aphrodite,
snare-knitter! Don’t, I beg you,cow my heart with grief! Come,as once when you heard my far-off cry and, listening, steppedfrom your father’s house to yourgold car, to yoke the pair whosebeautiful thick-feathered wingsoaring down mid-air from heavencarried you to light swiftlyon dark earth; then, blissful one,smiling your immortal smileyou asked, What ailed me now thatme…
Then, as the broad moon rose on high,
And some in graceful measureThe well-loved spot danced round,With lightsome footsteps treadingThe soft and grassy ground.
Awed by her splendor
moon cover their ownbright faceswhen sheis roundest and lightsearth with her silver
Like the very gods in my sight is he
Like the very gods in my sight is he whosits where he can look in your eyes, who listensclose to you, to hear the soft voice, its sweetnessmurmur in love andlaughter, all for him. But it breaks my spirit;underneath my breast all the heart is shaken.Let me only glance where you are, the voice dies,I…
He is more than a hero
the man who is allowedto sit beside you — hewho listens intimatelyto the sweet murmur ofyour voice, the enticinglaughter that makes my ownheart beat fast. If I meetyou suddenly, I can’speak — my tongue is broken;a thin flame runs undermy skin; seeing nothing,hearing only my own earsdrumming, I drip with sweat;trembling shakes my bodyand I…
to be honred: they
taught me their craft
Sappho
tr. Barnard
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Set are the Pleiades; the Moon is down
The hours, the hours, drift by,And here I lie,Alone
You know the place: then
waiting where the grove ispleasantest, by precinctssacred to you; incensesmokes on the altar, coldstreams murmur through theapple branches, a youngrose thicket shades the groundand quivering leaves pourdown deep sleep; in meadowswhere horses have grown sleekamong spring flowers, dillscents the air. Queen! Cyprian!Fill our gold cups with lovestirred into clear nectar
The stars around the fair moon fade
When gazing full she fills the gladeAnd spreads the seas with silvery light.
Fragments 84, 45, 82, 36, 38, 37, 40, 80, 50, 55, and 42 combined.
From the golden halls of Olumpus on high!O shell divine, now, now becomeVoiceful, to utter mine heart’s wild cry!O Calliope, vouchsafe thine aidUnto one whom the Muse of Love hath betrayed!Ah me, I know not what to doWho am wildered all, in a strait betwixt two!I cry from a homeless heart storm-tossedAs a child for…
I have had not one word from her
When she left, she wepta great deal; she said tome, “This parting must beendured, Sappho. I go unwillingly.”I said, “Go, and be happybut remember (you knowwell) whom you leave shackled by love“If you forget me, thinkof our gifts to Aphroditeand all the loveliness that we shared“all the violet tiaras,braided rosebuds, dill andcrocus twined around your…
Sleep, darling
daughter calledCleis, who islike a goldenflowerI wouldn’ttake all Croesus’kingdom with lovethrown in, for her—Don’t ask me what to wearI have no embroideredheadband from Sardis togive you, Cleis, such asI woreand my motheralways said that in herday a purple ribbonlooped in the hair was thoughtto be high style indeedbut we were dark:a girlwhose hair is yellower…