SAPPHO OF MYTILENE

 

Like the very gods in my sight is he who
sits where he can look in your eyes, who listens
close to you, to hear the soft voice, its sweetness
murmur in love and

laughter, 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 can say nothing,

but my lips are stricken to silence, under-
neath my skin the tenuous flame suffuses;
nothing shows in front of my eyes, my ears are
muted in thunder.

And the sweat breaks running upon me, fever
shakes my body, paler I turn than grass is;
I can feel that I have been changed, I feel that
death has come near me.

* * *

Some there are who say that the fairest thing seen
on the black earth is an array of horsemen;
some, men marching; some would say ships; but I say
that which one loves best

is the loveliest. Light were the work to make this
plain to all, since she, who surpassed in beauty
all mortality, Helen, once forsaking
her lordly husband,

fled away to Troy-land across the water.
Not the thought of child nor beloved parents
was remembered, after the Queen of Cyprus
won her at first sight.

Since young brides have hearts that can be persuaded
easily, light things, palpitant to passion
as am I, remembering Anaktória
who has gone from me

and whose lovely walk and the shining pallor
of her face I would rather see before my
eyes than Lydia's chariots in all their glory
armored for battle.

* * *

Throned in splendor, deathless, O Aphrodite,
child of Zeus, charm-fashioner, I entreat you
not with griefs and bitternesses to break my
spirit, O goddess;

standing by me rather, if once before now
far away you heard, when I called upon you,
left your father's dwelling place and descended,
yoking the golden

chariot to sparrows, who fairly drew you
down in speed aslant to the black world, the bright air
trembling at the heart to the pulse of countless
fluttering wingbeats.

Swiftly then they came, and you, blessed lady,
smiling on me out of immortal beauty,
asked me what affliction was on me, why I
called thus upon you,

what beyond all else I would have befall my
tortured heart: 'Whom then would you have Persuasion [i.e. Peitho]
force to serve desire in your heart? Who is it,
Sappho, that hurt you?

Though she now escape you, she soon will follow;
though she take not gifts from you, she will give them:
though she love not, yet she will surely love you
even unwilling.'

In such guise come even again and set me
free from doubt and sorrow; accomplish all those
things my heart desires to be done; appear and
stand at my shoulder.

* * *

Immortal Aphrodite on your ornate throne,
daughter of Zeus, weaver of schemes,
I beg you, mistress, not to overwhelm my heart
with painful anguish.

 

* * *

But come here, if ever on other occasions
you heard from afar my cries, and
leaving your father's hall, have come
on golden chariot yoked.

 * * *

 

Pretty sparrows swiftly drew you
around the black earth, whirling from heaven
with countless wing-beats,
through the midst of aether.

 

Quickly they arrived here; and you,
blessed one, a smile upon your divine face,
asked what had again troubled me:
why was I calling you again.

 

What in particular did I want to happen
to my tortured heart? Whom should I persuade
to take you back into her heart?
'Who wrongs you, Sappho?

 

If now she runs, soon will she pursue.
If now she accepts not gifts, soon will she give.
If now she loves not, soon she will,
even against her wish.'

 

Come to me, even now, and free me
from this painful anxiety.
Make happen for me what my heart most desires.
Be yourself my ally.

 

 * * *

 

Some would say a troop of horsemen, others soldiers,
others again a fleet of ships, is the finest thing
upon the black earth, but I believe that is
whatever a person loves.

 

It is quite easy to convey this to everyone,
for the woman who surpassed all in beauty,
Helen, abandoned her most noble husband,
and sailed to Troy,

 

nor did she have any thoughts for her child
or her very parents, but love led her
quite astray........

 

....... now remembering Anaktoria,
no longer with us ....

 

whose lovely gait and bright shining face
I would love to see before me
rather than the chariots of Lydia or
infantry with panoply of arms.

 

... not possible to happen
... but to pray to share

 

 * * *

 

To me that man seems equal to the gods,
the one who sits opposite you
and closely hears your
sweet voice

 

and gentle laughter, the very thing
which brings quivering to the heart
in my breast. For, whenever I glance at you,
I cannot even speak;

 

my tongue is shattered; and a subtle
burning creeps beneath my skin.
I see nothing before my eyes;
my ears buzz;

 

a cold sweat grips hold of me,
and a trembling shakes my whole body;
I am paler than grass; I seem to have
all but died.

 

But everything must be endured ...

 

 * * *

 

Come to me from Crete, to this
holy shrine, graced by your apple grove
and altars fragrant
with smoking incense.

 

Cool water bubbles beneath the branches
of apple-trees, and roses shade the whole place;
from the shimmering leaves flows
the breath of sweet sleep.

 

There too the horses' meadow is rich
with the flowers of spring,
and the breezes softly blow...

 

There Cypris, take...
and into golden cups gently pour
libation of nectar, mixed
for our celebration.