#39 He is more than a hero
He is a god in my eyes—
the man who is allowed
to sit beside you—he
who listens intimately
to the sweet murmur of
your voice, the enticing
laughter that makes my own
heart beat fast. If I meet
you suddenly, I can’t
speak—my tongue is broken;
a thin flame runs under
my skin; seeing nothing,
hearing only my own ears
drumming, I drip with sweat;
trembling shakes my body
and I turn paler than
dry grass. At such times
death isn’t far from me.
#44 Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart.
#45 If you will come
I shall put out
New pillows for
You to rest on.
#65 Persuasion
Aphrodite’s
daughter, you
cheat mortals.
#53 With his venom
Irresistible
and bittersweet
that loosener
of limbs, Love
reptile-like
strikes me down.
#41 To an army wife, in Sardis:
Some say a cavalry corps,
some infantry, some, again,
will maintain that the swift oars
of our fleet are the finest
sight on dark earth; but I say
that whatever one loves, is.
This is easily proved: did
not Helen—she who had scanned
the flower of the world’s manhood—
choose as first among men one
who laid Troy’s honor in ruin?
warped to his will, forgetting
love due her own blood, her own
child, she wandered far from him.
So Anactoria, although you
being far away forget us,
the dear sound of your footstep
and light glancing in your eyes
would move me more than glitter
of Lydian horse or armored
tread of mainland infantry
#84 If you are squeamish
Don’t prod the
beach rubble.
*See Mary Barnard's translations of Sappho's poetry, introduced by Dudley Fitts, published by the University of California Press.
