Sappho's Poetry

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Artfully adorned Aphrodite, deathless
child of Zeus and weaver of wiles I beg you
please don't hurt me, don't overcome my spirit,
goddess, with longing,


but come here, if ever at other moments
hearing these my words from afar you listened
and responded: leaving your father's house, all
golden, you came then,


hitching up your chariot: lovely sparrows
drew you quickly over the dark earth, whirling
on fine beating wings from the heights of heaven
down through the sky and


instantly arrived - and then O my blessed
goddess with a smile on your deathless face you
asked me what the matter was THIS time, what I
called you for this time,


what I now most wanted to happen in my
raving heart:"Whom THIS time should I persuade to
lead you back again to her love? Who NOW, oh
Sappho, who wrongs you?


If she flees you now, she will soon pursue you;
if she won't accept what you give, she'll give it;
if she doesn't love you, she'll love you soon now,
even unwilling."


Come to me again, and release me from this
want past bearing. All that my heart desires to
happen - make it happen. And stand beside me,
goddess, my ally.



* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

A PRAYER FOR CHARAXOS

Cypris and you Nereids, bring my brother
back to me unharmed: let him sail home safely:
grant that every one of his heart's desires
all be accomplished


once he makes amends for the present straying
of his ways, returning to bring great gladness
to his friends and ruin upon our enemies.
No longer a worry


to his sister, let him consent to do her
honor, just this once, and her cruel sorrow


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

AND ONE FOR HIS MISTRESS

Aphrodite, Cyprian, let her find you
at your very prickliest: don't let Doricha
crow about him coming a second time to
the love she is missing.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Most beautiful of all the stars
O Hesperus, bringing everything
the bright dawn scattered:
you bring the sheep, you bring the goat,
you bring the child back to her mother.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I have a beautiful little girl: the golden flowers
are no match for her loveliness, my darling Kleis
- for her, I wouldn't take all Lydia or sweet [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

] for my mother said


that when she was a girl if you
bound the locks of your hair in back,
gathered there in a circlet of plaited purple,

that was truly a fine adornment,
but for blondes with hair yellower
than a torch it is better to fasten it

with fresh garlands of flowers in bloom,
and more recently there were headbands
decorated in Sardis, elaborately

embroidered [
] Ionian cities [

[ ]

But for you, dearest Kleis, I
have no intricate headband and
nowhere that I can get one: the Mytilenean

[ ]
[ ]
[ ]
these memorials of the exile
of the children of Kleanax
] horribly wasted [


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

In the house of the Muses' servants
grief is not right. It would not suit us.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Wealth without virtue is no harmless neighbor.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When anger spreads inside your breast
keep watch against an idly barking tongue.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

But I'm not one of those with a resentful
temperament: I have a quiet heart.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I don't expect to touch the sky with my two hands.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Sweet Mother, I can't weave my web
overcome with longing for a boy
because of slender Aphrodite."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And you, my Dika, crown your lovely locks with garlands,
twining shoots of anise in your tender hands,
for the blessed Graces come the sooner to those adorned
with flowers, and turn away from the ungarlanded.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Though it isn't easy for us to rival
goddesses in the loveliness of their figures [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

maidens [
keeping vigil all through the night till morning
used to sing the song of your love and of your
violet-robed bride.


But wake up. March off to the your unmarried
men who shared your childhood and beg their presence
so that we may look on less sleep than does the
clearvoiced nightingale.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cretan women once danced this way
on gentle feet in time
around the lovely altar, softly
treading the tender flowers of grass.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

O you rosy-armed Graces, hallowed Daughters of Zeus, be here!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

whether Cyprus keeps you or Paphos or Panormos

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

] summit of the

mountain descending.

come to me from Crete to the sacred recess
of this temple: here you will find a grove of
apple trees to charm you, and on the altars
frankincense fuming.


Here ice water babbles among the apple
branches and musk roses have overshadowed
all the ground; here down from the leaves' bright flickering
entrancement settles.


There are meadows, too, where the horses graze knee
deep in flowers, yes, and the breezes blow here
honey sweet and softer [
[....................]


Here now you, my goddess [ } Cypris
in these golden wineglasses gracefully mix
nectar with the gladness of our festivities
and greet this libation.


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The moon appeared in all her fullness
and so the women stood around the altar.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

He is dying, Cytherea, Adonis the delicate. What shall we do?
"Beat your breasts, girls, and tear your clothes."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

] throws peace into turmoil
] weariness overcomes the heart
] settles down
] but come now, friends, dear girls,
] for day is near.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

IN ANSWER TO ALCAEUS

[ ]
"I want to tell you something, and yet my shame
prevents me..." [
[ ]

But if you wanted good things or lovely ones
and if your tongue weren't stirring up something bad
to say then shame would never hide your
eyes: you would state your case [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

But stand before me, if you are my friend,
and spread the grace that's in your eyes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And since you are my friend
get yourself a younger bedmate
for I can't bear to keep house together
being the elder.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As a poet of Lesbos surpasses foreigners

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Let me wish the child of the house of Polyanax
a most good day.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now to delight my women friends
I'll make a beautiful song of this affair.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Surely once you too were a delicate child:
come now, sing this, all of you, add your voices
to our celebration and grace us with your
company [

Yes, for we are off to a wedding: you too
know this art, so hurry and send away all
the unmarried women, and may the gods [
] have [


For there is no pathway up great Olympos
] for humankind [


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

There a bowl of ambrosia
was mixed and ready
and Hermes took the pitcher and poured wine for the gods.
They all held glasses
and made libations, praying all good things
for the groom.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Eros arrived from heaven wrapped in a purple mantle.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

golden chickpeas grew along the shore

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Come to me now, you delicate Graces and you fairtressed Muses

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Cyprus [
The herald came [
Idaios the swift messenger
[ ]
"...and all the rest of Asia [ ] undying glory.
Hector and his companions escort a dartingeyed
woman from sacred Thebe and fair Plakia's streams,
delicate Andromache, aboard their ship
on the salt sea, and with her many golden bracelets
and scented purple robes and intricate adornments,
silver goblets past numbering and ivory."
So he said. His father leapt up eagerly
and word went to his friends throughout the spacious city.
The sons of Ilus led out mules and harnessed them
to fairwheeled carriages and all the crowd of women
and girls with slender ankles climbed on board [
and Priam's daughters separately [
And all the young unmarried men led out their stallions
and harnessed them to chariots, spirited [
] charioteers [

[ (several verses missing) ]
] like the very gods
] pure [
]toward Ilion,
the sweetvoiced flute and cithara were mingling.
the clash of castanets, and girls' clear voices singing
a holy song. The sound rang out and reached the sky
] wonderfully, lau [

Everywhere through the streets [
wine bowls and cups [
and myrrh and cassia and frankincense were mingling.
The women who were older raised a joyful cry
and all the men sang out on high, a lovely song
calling on Paian, the Farshooter, skilled with the lyre,
in praise of godlike Hector and Andromache.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

To what shall I best liken you, dear bridegroom?
Most of all to a slender sapling I liken you.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As a sweet apple reddens
on a high branch

at the tip of the topmost bough:
The apple-pickers missed it.

No, they didn't miss it:
They couldn't reach it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

For you, O bridegroom, there was never another girl like this one.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

We will give her, her father says.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fortunate bridegroom, now the marriage that you prayed for
is accomplished, you have the girl for whom you prayed,
and YOU, bride, your appearance is full of grace, your eyes
are gentle and love wells on your delightful face:
Aphrodite has honored you beyond all others.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lift high the roofbeam,
HYMENAEUS,
lift high, you carpenters:
HYMENAEUS,
the groom is coming, Ares' equal,
greater far than a mortal man.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The feet of the doorkeeper
are seven fathoms long,
his sandals are of five oxhides,
ten shoemakers worked to stitch them.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

As a hyacinth in the mountains that men shepherding
tread underfoot, and to the ground its flower, all purple [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"Virginity, virginity, where have you gone and left me?"
"Never again will I come to you, never again."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Farewell, O bride, farewell O honored groom, farewell

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

These are Timas's ashes: on the threshold of her marriage
she died and entered Persephone's dark house instead,
and all the girls who were her friends took fresh-honed iron
to the long locks of their lovely hair and laid them on this grave.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hekate, the shining gold attendant of Aphrodite

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Come to me once more, O you Muses, leaving
golden [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

For they say that Leda once found a hyacinth
colored egg, all covered [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now Leto and Niobe were very dear companions

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

] to Phoibos the Goldenhaired whom Koio's daughter bore
] to Kronos' Son of mighty name.
Bue Artemis made a vow and swore the gods' great oath:
"By your head, I will remain a virgin always
] hunting upon the peaks of lonely mountains.
]come, nod your head, grant me this favor."
So she said. The Father of the blessed gods consented,
and so the gods and people, too, call her Deershooter
] and also Virgin Huntress, a mighty title.
]and Eros never approaches her [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The moon has set
and the Pleiades; it is the middle
of the night and the hours go by
and I lie here alone.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Earth with her many garlands
is embroidered

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

spring's messenger, the lovelyvoiced nightingale

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When the pigeons' spirits grow cold they let their
wings droop at their sides. [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

] I will let my body
flow like water over the gentle cushions.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

when nightlong slumber closes their eyes

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

O Dream on your dark wings
you come circling whenever sleep descends on me,

sweet god, and by your power
keep off the cruel memory of pain.

Then hope gets hold of me that I won't share
anything that the blessed gods [

for I would not be so [
these toys [

But may I have
them all [

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

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