You, clipped little fragments divided and crumbled as the asymmetrical pinions of the Winged Samothrace, I spoke “****** soft spoken” unedited, fluid, effortless, aroused by Fortune and I was christened within rapture, your creator’s “poisoned wounds” and “secret pains” electrifying my heart and mind inspiring such a preface such a volatile violet passion and I am moved by this color by this flower by this name those fragrances still pouring centuries after decimated marble, demolished syllables slaughtered by gender or genius status or progression
(Instantaneously after five years of having lessons in the Greek language, English expatriate and poet Renee Vivien began to translate Sappho’s works into Sappho: A New Translation with Greek Text (1903) consecrating the ****** inhabitant back into her original Aeolian name, Psappha.)
“Renee Vivien begins her work with a Preface and a biographical note in which she seeks to introduce two images of Sappho: the Poetess and the ‘lesbian.’ In order to celebrate the first, Renee Vivien masculinizes Sappho with an expression which constructs her as an alter ego of a male poet […] (“The work of the divine Poet makes one think of the Victory of Samothrace, opening to the infinite her mutilated wings”). The comparison invites the reader to visualize the famous statue of the female Greek god of Victory, an imposing second-century BC Parian marble sculpture generally regarded as a masterpiece of Hellenistic art […]. The choice of this female statue can be explained by its mutilated wings which can offer a symbolic counterpart to the fragments of (mutilated) Sappho’s work.” (Wyles, Rosie; Edith Hall. Women Classical Scholars: Unsealing the Fountain from the Renaissance to Jacqueline de Romilly. 2016)