What is Prema Yoga?
How can Love unite us with God?
How can Love for the Beloved
Make us one with the Lord?

Love is a powerful emotion
It can take us to any length
For Love, kings even gave up their throne
Love has so much strength

But how can we love God?
When God has no body, no form?
When we love the Beloved as God
Within, there is a Divine storm


For when we love the Beloved
As the manifestation of God
When we fall in love with the Beloved
We are actually loving our Lord

This Love is not worldly Love
It is not for the beauty of the skin
This Love is loving the Soul Divine
The Soul that is God within

But how can we see our Beloved as God?
Our Beloved is just our Love
When we see the Divine in the Beloved
Then we love the One above

Divine Love is intoxicating
It creates Divine Bliss
When we love our Beloved just as we love God
There can be no greater Happiness

Unfortunately, we don't know what Love is
We think it's a hug and a kiss
Divine Love is Soulful Love
A fountain of joy that is Bliss

Somehow, we have been taught wrong
That love comes from the Heart
When will we realize Divine Love
And from the myth, when will we depart?

The truth is this, God is a Power
God is the Soul that is in all
God is SIP, the Supreme Immortal Power
In our Beloved, we must recall

So, when our Love makes us yearn for God
We need not go to a temple or a church
We must look into the eyes of the Beloved
And this will end our search

For God is here, God is now
In our Beloved, does God live
If we open our Real Eyes, we will Realize
And God to us, our Beloved will give

And then, we can love God all the time
We don't need to search for Him
We can constantly love our Beloved as our Lord
And our bliss will go up to the brim

Prema Yoga, the Yoga of Divine Love
Will make us one with the Divine
When we are ever united with the Beloved
This intoxication is greater than any wine

The world knows of four states of Yoga
Meditation, Devotion, Action, Education
But the Divine gifted me the Yoga of Love
Which unites me through the Divine Manifestation

Do you love God, do you seek Him?
Do you have a yearning for the Lord?
Then, realize your Beloved is His manifestation
And in the Beloved you will see God

Love is the Power of the Supreme
Love comes from God and is God
When Divine Love appears for the Beloved
We will be ever united with the Lord

How can one live as a Yogi?
How can one be connected with God?
While the four states of Yoga create a union...
Prema Yoga creates a seamless union with God

Prema Yoga is the strongest Yoga
A Yoga that can’t be put in words
It's when you Love your Beloved, deeply as God
Greater than Love that's in 'Lovebirds'

For deep within you will find
God in the Beloved's Soul
Love for the Beloved will unite you with God
And make your life whole

When Love for the Beloved becomes Divine
And through the Beloved, God we can love
This Prema Yoga, the Yoga of Divine Love
Will make us one with the Power

From birth my beauty condemned me, a sacrificial lamb for slaughter.
Beauty was a curse in my land, for each and every daughter.

The monster in the castle, Dracula would be his name.
Always hungry for ****** blood, and it was his right to claim.

Stealing a moment before I go, I took a bottle of sweet red wine.
Hoping that a drunken stupor
would help me with my time.

For days he kept his food alive, who wish that they would die.
I sat at the moonlit pond, and for my fate I did cry.
I come from a family, who's wholly dreaded
Because to the church we are indebted

I took up my family's sacred weapon
A holy whip, the vampire killer, after leaving home into Transylvania I treaded

I wandered aimlessly into a forest
Seeing Draculas castle on a hill,
My blood boiled and my family's voices were urging me to go pursue the ****

I stopped in a lonely clearing and Sat down with the whip at my side,
I looked up and saw a beautiful maiden carrying a very fine wine

As I walked the path, to the castle on the hill.
I saw the man upon a rock, my heart did calm and still.

He offered me some food, I shared with him my wine.
I stopped to sup with him, dragging out the time.

If I could love, this man I would choose.
Curse the fates and Dracula, because of them I lose.

I listened to his voice, shy to reveal my name.
I just want to stay here forever, safe and far from pain.

I whisper my name, after hearing his " Nero".
My lungs all but froze, and my heart rate went to zero.

A wonderful name
for a wonderful man.
My love was growing, but not part of the plan.

The time grew late,
I soon would have to go.
But I knew I was his,
I could feel it in my soul.

His story he did tell, the aim to destroy the beast.
The very same one, who on my blood would feast.

"Aurora" so simple yet supple, it rolled of the tongue
I knew that I loved her, I knew she was my only and one,

The problem was I was facing an impossible task,
Destroying the count, I wasn't sure if I would last

I said to her if tonight is my last on this earth
That I should enjoy it, like incense and myrrh

I could not let him go, without showing him my love.
I would give him my heart, before he is taken up above.

I untied my lace,and steeped out of my dress.
Watching his beautiful eyes, as they fell upon my breast.

I gave him my strength, my body,heart and soul.
All for the only man I will ever physically know.

His hands so tender,
it made my heart cry.
Holding him tightly,praying he would not die.

I stared at this beautiful woman, now naked in the moonlight,
I was aroused already by her appearance, but this was exemplified by the darkest night,

I laid her down on the forest floor and kissed her lovely face
Somehow my armor was stripped off of me and scattered all over the place

His kiss melted my heart, his loverall than made me whole.
Broken til I meet him, the partner of my soul.

I took him in deep, tho I was sure it would not fit.
But it easily slipped inside, with his fingers working my ****.

Gasping and moaning, he truly filled me up.
My joy and my pleasure, overflowing my womanly cup.

Scratching at his,back, and arcing up my hips.
My breath mingling with his, as his name escapes my lips.

My God this woman was like heaven on earth
She was so Beautiful, like the goddess of the hearth

She was so sweet and supple like a well cut gem I knew I loved this woman, and I proved it there and then

I fell apart in his arms, my ****** blew my mind.
This was the purest love, that would stand the test of time.

His loved filled me up, the moon he did give to me.
A caged bird no longer, for my beloved had set me free.

Far to soon our time did end, the fates stepping in once more.
But for a moment in time, we were connected and we soared.

It almost brought tears to my eyes, that our time together couldn't last
We made love so passionately, our bodies had stains of grass,

I gave her my mother's Morningstar, in case I didn't return
I loved this woman so much, it was a trinket she deserved

Tears flowing from my eyes, the Morningstar clasped to my breast.
I whispered my goodbyes, with a tightening in my chest.

Fully dressed with whip in hand, oh what a sight to behold.
But the truth of the situation, had my blood now running cold.

I sat upon his rock, and watched as he walked away.
Knowing until he returned, right here I was going to stay.

I walked up the path and opened the gate to that cursed abode
I trusted my love with the Morningstar because it was my heart I trusted her to hold

I fought my way through his castle defeating everything, zombies, demons even death
Like my ancestors before me I would fight on until my last breath

Finally atop the ancient staircase stood the evil count himself,
I didn't even bother sneaking in because i grew tired of stealth,

In a battle that raged many hours as the night went on,
I choked and beheaded him with the vampire killer, and after that he disappeared into the great beyond,

Triumphant I returned to my beloved and I noticed it began to rain
It felt like my ancestors we're celebrating and their tears were of joy instead of pain

Rain washed down my cheeks, chasing the tears that fell.
My beloved topped the crest, and he was hurt, I could tell.

I ran up to greet him, my aid I lovingly did give.
Many thanks I gave to god, for letting my heart to live.

I took him to my home, and took care of his every need.
Cleaning up his angry wounds and cooking rabbit for me to feed.

Sleep overtook him, the stew I stew I left to simmer.
Holding his I hand I to slept, as the day light began to dimmer.

I walked home with my beloved and fell into a deep slumber
While I was unconscious my every need and wound she treated as if a spell she was under.

I began to stir as I smelled food, rabbit stew if I had to guess
Having known my beloved's passion, I knew it was made with love, the best

The moon rose and than it fell, I watched my lover sleep.
I saw when he began to stir and with joy I did weep.

I changed his bandages, and feed him with every kiss.
He ate the whole bowl and my heart was full of bliss.

My love would live,
my curse was now broken.
All because of a kind hello and names that were softly spoken.

My wish came to true and love I did find.
Our two souls now made one, forever intertwined.

I looked at my love and saw the passion in her eyes, I pulled her close to me, I missed her so last night,

I kissed her with all the love I could muster I stared into those deep blue eyes
I made sure that because I had come back she would never have to cry

I kissed my love, my own, he was truly my handsome hero.
I could no longer hold it in," I love you Nero."

My heart swimming in my eyes, I put my hand upon his cheek.
The love that I could see, made my bones melt and my knees weak.

Finally I could live,
my heart now had a home.
This man that is before me, I can claim as my very own.

I smiled in my beloveds face, I kissed her again and said I'll always love you
I don't know how fortunate I had to have been
But ill make sure to keep you happy, more so than you have ever been

Forever happy I shall be, with you by my side.
No longer shall I feel pain, no more will I have hide.

Shunned by the village, as the one who was chosen.
But now from the darkest pit, the sun has finally rosen.

To you my love, I give my heart.
Forever together,
never shall we part

I smiled wryly and began to gently rub her soft curvy body
I didn't think it strange at all she began acting so oddly

As we laid together in the sunrise I whispered "darling, shall we make love again?"

I raise my head to meet his eyes and knew he wanted me to.
" Are you sure my love, it won't end up hurting you."

To hurt him now, I just could never forgive.
I shall never cause him pain, as long as we both shall live.

But oh how I wanted him, my body began to ache.
I pray he was well enough, so me he would be able to take.

I said no matter how much pain I'm in I'll always make time for you
Just be gentle with me beloved, I'm healing now thanks to you

I kissed him tenderly, giving my promise and my vow.
"I shall love you tenderly, no pain will I cause u now."

I kissed my way down his neck and licked down his chest.
I leaned just a little bit so his hairs could tease my breast.

Lower I did go, my mouth hungry for more. As I reached my goal, my heart began to soar.

I placed myself between his legs, and licked my luscious lips.
I put my mouth to his shaft and my hands upon his hips.

I took him inside and his taste danced on my tongue.
If I could but sing my joy I would have sung.

As I bathed him with silken warmth, I started to ride his leg.
The feel of him inside my mouth had my core starting to beg.

I felt almost ecstatic
Making love to Aurora again
After battling my way through hell and high water
I couldn't wait to be with her again
My toes curled up in excitement my muscles still somewhat sore,
I stared into those deep blue eyes, my eyes begging for more

I teased him just a little bit, my tongue licking up and down.
I had to taste his lovely ***** so cute and bouncy round.

I slide up his body and slowly slipped him inside.
I softly rocked my hips as I began my loving ride.

I moaned deep in my throat and he filled deep within.
If this was being wanton than I bask in glorious sin.

I laid back and watch this beautiful woman transform into a goddess of desire
I could see why the night we first met was ablaze with this passionate fire,

My spine shot up and down I quivered with ecstasy
I held on to my love tightly
So I could love every inch of her body

Quivering with such delight, I placed his hands on my breast.
I left my hands ontop of his, as he fondled and caressed.

I gave him my body, I will even give him my life.
My only one true desire now, was to become his loving wife.

I looked deep into his eyes, and drowned within his soul.
My body felt on fire and my flame did dance and glow.

Pleasure overtook me, I began to scream his name.
My sheath tightened around him and my essence began to rain.

I felt her sweet love juices
Spill onto me with such extremity
I'd been traveling around for quite some time so I knew the perfect remedy
"Beloved lay down beside me I want to try something new"
I winked at her because she had no idea what I planned to do

I kissed my beloved down her body caressing from place to place
My eyes were almost drunken from her intoxicating face

I arrived at her woman cup so soft wet and warm
I began to drink deeply, taking in all of her love juices like coffee at dawn

Griping the sheets within my hand, I bite into my lips.
The shock and surprise had u rising up my hips.

I gave a womanly growl, as my hands than griped his hair.
I was so enchanted with the sight, I could do aught but stare.

Him between my legs, his tongue licking at my ****.
I knew that he could taste me, for I was extremely slick.

My essence flowed freely, and I was lost to the pleasure.
He treated me like I was his own special treasure.

I ate her like I was starving, Like her orifice contained the gift of life
I ****** and licked upon her
Desiring nothing but to make my beloved nothing less than my wife.

I drank my beloved's essence like I was mad with desire,
I got back up on my knees, and asked for what my beloved desired

My joy knew no bounds, as I could not believe my ears.
My wish was granted, I shed some happy tears.

I rose up to meet him, now we were eye to eye. I kissed him so hard and let out a contented sigh.

"Yes my love I would not want any other, my heart is in ur hands.
Were you go I go anywhere throughout the lands."

I wraped my arms around him and kissed him with all my heart.
He is my everything, right from the very start.

I kissed her beautiful lips and I slid myself back inside her again
The bed creaked and groaned as both myself and my wife moaned and I released deep inside my beloved again

I kissed my wife's rosy cheeks and kissed her lovely lips
"I love you so much aurora" her name felt soft like a willow in the wisp

I awoke to a sound of tapping, the teacher purple in the face.
This felt like a weird time and an even stranger place.

Ignoring the words, I turned my head to look and see.
And there was my dream man staring straight back at me.

I smiled a knowing smile, for I think he knew me to.
We both lived in the past and our love was not through.

Beloved,
lay down your arms, and
come run back into Mine instead.
There is no need for you
to fight this battle on your own, when
I’m here, and

I love you.

Before the kingdoms and golden cities,
before the earthquakes and the hailstorms,
before the stars knew their hymns
and the planets their dance,
I loved you.

Beloved,
I made you
to love you.

Let that sink in and resonate in your heart
like a steady, low drum.
I made you
to love you.
I made you
to love you.
I made you
to love you,
because

What good is the universe
in all its splendor and colors
to which names have not yet been given,
what good are the heavens and the seas,
the skyscraping mountains and lowest valleys,
what good is anything in all creation that was and will be
if you
are not there
for Me
to love?

So I formed you.
I patterned your image after Mine,
I took dust and spoke life
to create a beautiful, beautiful you, and the
reason you love is because
I first loved you.
Love is what stitched you together, beloved,
and that Love
runs deeper than any ocean or river, because even
on that worst day,
the day you fell,
the day you told me that
My love wasn’t good enough
that I
wasn’t good enough,
I loved you.
I never left your side even
when you were in sun scorched lands
and your hands
were bleeding from the fruitless labor of
trying to get
to where I am,
you never had to earn my affection or my
consideration, I was
thinking of you
the entire
time, because for Me,
Heaven
wouldn’t be heaven
without you in it.

So I came.
I pursued you
even if it meant watching My beloved
scream false accusations and spitting lies
at My face
even if it meant having nails and thorns
driven into My flesh
even if it meant facing death, but
I overcame it
for you
I took the blame
for you
I carried all the crosses you have and will ever carry
for you
I tore the veil and shook the earth
for you, because I
love
you.

Beloved,
My love
is stronger
than anything
you will ever encounter, and
this is the same Love that
courses through your veins, and so the same
strength that enables you
to receive power
to receive healing
to receive victory in My name.

Beloved,
fear not.

Don’t call me that.

You--

Don’t deserve anything.
Are worthless.
Impure.
Weak.
Everything I put my hand to is kissed by death,
I was meant for no more but failure.
I can’t do anything.
I can’t do.
I can’t.
I--

Lies.
I crucified all that.
You are--

still the same and always will be!
Despite what You did
I keep going back
back
back
My love for You is like
the morning mist,
like flowers that soon wither,
like shores that always,
no matter how strong the tide,
push the waves away,
and I am ashamed.
I am only man.

And I am God.

But—

I am God.

But—

I am God.

Beloved,
take life and death
angels and demons
the present and the future
the highest of heights and the darkest of depths
take every power and everything else you could possibly imagine,
and they still wouldn’t be
even close to a fraction enough to separating you
from My love.

You are right.
You don’t deserve it,
but I love you anyway.
Since the beginning of time,
all you’ve done is pursue everyone and
everything else but Me,
but I love you anyway.
You’ve done nothing but fall short,
but My love carries you past that, beloved.
You are Mine.
Let Me be yours.

You are Mine. I am Yours.
I am yours. You are mine.
You are chosen. I am chosen.
You are My child. I am Your child.
I will never leave you. You will never leave me.
My love for you knows no end. Your love for me knows no end.
Heaven and earth will pass away but, Heaven and earth will pass away but,
I will stay the same. You will stay the same.

Beloved,
why
are you so
afraid?

I’m not anymore.

I have overcome. You have overcome.
You have overcome. I have overcome.
The war has already been won. The war has already been won.

I love you. I love You.
I love you. I love You.
I love you. *I love You.

ONE WHISPER OF THE BELOVED.

Lovers share a sacred decree –
to seek the Beloved.
They roll head over heels,
rushing toward the Beautiful One
like a torrent of water.

In truth, everyone is a shadow of the Beloved –
Our seeking is His seeking,
Our words are His words.

At times we flow toward the Beloved
like a dancing stream.
At times we are still water
held in His pitcher.
At times we boil in a ***
turning to vapor –
that is the job of the Beloved.

He breathes into my ear
until my soul
takes on His fragrance.
He is the soul of my soul –
How can I escape?
But why would any soul in this world
want to escape from the Beloved?

He will melt your pride
making you thin as a strand of hair,
Yet do not trade, even for both worlds,
One strand of His hair.

We search for Him here and there
while looking right at Him.
Sitting by His side we ask,
“O Beloved, where is the Beloved?”

Enough with such questions! –
Let silence take you to the core of life.

All your talk is worthless
When compared to one whisper
of the Beloved.

Ode 442 trans. by Jonathan Star and Shahram Shiva
A Garden Beyond Paradise: The Mystical Poetry of Rumi

Links

(Rumi Poetry)          (Rumi)
*-Found this gem by the mystical master in a labyrinthine corner of the web. All credits and thanks to the translators who put it there and cared!!.-MAX CHELUR.

Her visage shines like a diamond of despair
Lost I become in the dark pools of her eyes
Pale as the tundra, shining figure in the fog
Her aura thrilling, filling me with lust beneath the sky
As though in a dream
She wanders ever nearer
In the darkness and the fog
I can see her ever clearer
And like a freezing gust of wind
She throws herself upon my flesh
Her dark lips caress my own
Her face is beautiful as death
My beloved Cynthia
Her touch is cold as ice
Oh, my beloved Cynthia
In darkness we're entwined
My beloved Cynthia
My pain all fades away
Oh, my beloved Cynthia
In shadows I embrace
Oh, my beloved Cynthia!
This rapture is filling me
Killing me softly
The sorrow is fading
As sweet death consumes me
Beneath shining stars
My soul leaves my body
And falls to the ground
With her ghost still upon me
Beloved Cynthia
Forever mine
Beloved Cynthia
Two souls entwined
Beloved Cynthia
A beautiful end
My beloved Cynthia
United by death

Ch. 1.

1.

Behold, thou art dark and comely, my love;
richly hath the sun favoured thee,
delighting in thy presence.
Let me savour thy kisses of wine;
for in the gardens of the temple
the lotus furls open,
wild bees fall asleep on her face.


2.

Lilies and jasmine bloom
in the garden of my love;
falls of wisteria,
carpets of thyme.
Let us lie in the shade of the olives
to gaze on the sky.


3.

For many hours my love slept
  beneath the cedars,
couched on cool swathes of linen,
like the Lord of Midnight enthroned on a cloud.
Long tresses of willows shivered to cool his face.
I called his name but he heard me not,
being entranced in slumber,
deep in the thrall of dreams;
therefore I shall let him awaken when he please.




Ch. 2.

4.

A warm breath of nard is my master, my king,
A great golden deity haloed with stars.
Behold, the noble bearing of a king,
the finely-wrought body of a man.
In my dearest dreams he standeth before me
out of my reach, gesturing for me to follow,
calling unto me like the very embodiment of love.


5.

Night comes softly, o daughters of Jerusalem,
My king's desirous eyes have grown heavy with sleep.
His black hair ripples about his face
  like curtains of smoke,
gold bracelets entice my gaze to
the sinews of his arms.
Like roses unfurling, so open the lips of my love,
  I burn for their flavour,
yet awaken him not till he please.





Ch. 3.

6.

Out of the forest I came, with my
maidens and minions;
with carpets of hibiscus strewn at my feet.
Columns of frankincense curved into the air,
burning from lamps of copper and gold.
From the broad slopes of Edom
my soul's love stopped to observe us.
I felt his warm gaze upon me,
so soft a look as touched like caresses of hands.
I am weary with desire, my lord and king,
Bring me the looks of thine eyes, dark as midnight,
That regard me with touches of silk.


7.

Though I may stand with my legion before thee,
an army behind me,
The west wind roars to my left,
the east to my right,
a million strong with all my banners, warriors
and standard-bearers,
still my delight were only to serve thee,
see how I tremble with awe by thy side.


8.

Behold, my ladies, the noble bearing of a king,
the finely-wrought body of a man.
My king is a custodian of the sanctity of love,
see those arms with the strength to smite
yet full of the will to embrace.
Nightly cometh he to my chambers,
whispering of love,
with the stealth of a lion,
as meek as a lamb.




Ch. 4.

9.

Preparing for my beloved,
I have put on my mantle of midnight sky
garlanded with stars.
My black locks are hung with beads of gold,
my neck is anointed with sandalwood and rose.
Come, my ladies,
Bring me my white chargers,
my sedan lined with silks from Lebanon,
my heralds and cavalcades of guards;
My beloved king awaits my pleasure.






10.

When I am in the embrace of my beloved,
He is worlds of landscapes of desire,
he is all the earth, air and sky to me.
His eyes shineth as my sun and moon,
his broad chest becometh as the
cool desert dunes by night,
where I may rest my head.
Go safely in thy dreams, beloved king,
with sentinel angels, to roost with the doves.




Ch. 5.

11.

Such a turmoil of a dream
hath troubled me, my sisters,
I dreamed that my love approached my window,
Calling unto me through the
rosewood trefoils of the lattice.
Forgetful of our tryst I answered him not,
all oils and fine trappings were put away,
mine eyes were full of slumber.
When finally I rose from my bed
   he had gone.


12.

Overwrought and afraid,
I went out in the streets,
  calling unto my beloved,
receiving no answer and calling again.
  The night watchmen came and found me,
they smote me and denounced me as pagan,
calling me harlot and worshipper of false idols,
harshly they beat me with flails
and threw me into the darkest cellars
of the palace of Solomon.


13.

Awakening at last,
I felt a warm breeze,
It was my love's breath upon my face.
Let all the world suspend in time,
let hate, rage and darkness flee as a shadow,
otherwise let me die here in the arms of my king.
There is but this one hour, one place,
in one lingering moment,
When my soul's love and I are conjoined
in the petals of love.




Ch. 6.

14.

Midnight has fallen in the gardens
  of the temple of Solomon.
The moon communes with her sister in the lake,
painting the magnolias with mother-of-pearl,
turning her buds into silver doves.
Passion and beauty intertwine in my love's garden,
Like the twisted trunks of the fig trees of Judea.
Behold, my beloved,
thou art more comely even than the moon.
Come and walk with me
in the balmy air of night.


15.

Only through the love of another may
a soul come to know of itself.
My king is mine and I am his;
The sun and moon each taketh their
turn in the sky,
the shepherds go sure-footed
over their hills and valleys,
the merchants go their ways in the
spice markets of Lebanon,
while he and I are lost in one another's eyes.




Ch. 7.

16.

Love's weariness hath overcome me,
beloved lord and king.
Bring me thy pleasant fruits, thy tender words,
Lie betwixt my *******; my hair shall
be thy curtain,
these arms shall be as thy cocoon.
Let the tides cease their turning
and the winds give pause to hold their breath.
Awaken not my dearest love, until he please.


17.

Even in sleep,
such beautiful eyes hath my beloved;
his eyelashes rest upon his cheek
like the feet of a butterfly on a lily.
Come, my sisters, we shall make him
a bed of hemp and poppies,
with fruit of the lotus,
that he may languish beside me
for many days and nights.




Ch. 8.

18.

Filling my days and dreams,
here is a man with the grace of a young hart,
whose honeyed voice speaketh mantras of desire.
Arise and follow me, beloved, for my vineyards
are ripe with luscious fruits,
the doves beat their wings and fly from the cots.
Emerging from the amber of sunrise,
with a swirling of veils,
summer dances into the season of our love.


19.

Lying amid the twisting vines
My love and I are deep in each other's embrace
and his lips taste of roses heavy with dew.
I am a queen of the Red Sea,
an orchid from a sacred garden,
and my kingdom reacheth to the farthest hills.
None but my love shall pass the boundary
where my vines bear the sweetest fruit,
nor taste their heady wine.


20.

The gates of my vineyard are wrought of
iron clad with gold,
taller than cedars, decorated with
the royal insignia,
guarded by three score watchmen,
by day and night.
While other men are kept without
and the foxes are driven back by dogs,
see how swiftly they open for thee.




Ch. 9.

21.

Behold, the noble stature of a king,
the finely-wrought body of a man.
In the sanctity of love
we may walk in the realm of paradise,
undisturbed by the foibles of men.
Come beloved, awaken,
the new dawn opens as wide and fresh
as infant eyes.
Come run with me through the spice hills
  and gardens of Lebanon.

Now, when the moon slid under the cloud
And the cold clear dark of starlight fell,
He heard in his blood the well-known bell
Tolling slowly in heaves of sound,
Slowly beating, slowly beating,
Shaking its pulse on the stagnant air:
Sometimes it swung completely round,
Horribly gasping as if for breath;
Falling down with an anguished cry . . .
Now the red bat, he mused, will fly;
Something is marked, this night, for death . . .
And while he mused, along his blood
Flew ghostly voices, remote and thin,
They rose in the cavern of his brain,
Like ghosts they died away again;
And hands upon his heart were laid,
And music upon his flesh was played,
Until, as he was bidden to do,
He walked the wood he so well knew.
Through the cold dew he moved his feet,
And heard far off, as under the earth,
Discordant music in shuddering tones,
Screams of laughter, horrible mirth,
Clapping of hands, and thudding of drums,
And the long-drawn wail of one in pain.
To-night, he thought, I shall die again,
We shall die again in the red-eyed fire
To meet on the edge of the wood beyond
With the placid gaze of fed desire . . .
He walked; and behind the whisper of trees,
In and out, one walked with him:
She parted the branches and peered at him,
Through lowered lids her two eyes burned,
He heard her breath, he saw her hand,
Wherever he turned his way, she turned:
Kept pace with him, now fast, now slow;
Moving her white knees as he moved . . .
This is the one I have always loved;
This is the one whose bat-soul comes
To dance with me, flesh to flesh,
In the starlight dance of horns and drums . . .

The walls and roofs, the scarlet towers,
Sank down behind a rushing sky.
He heard a sweet song just begun
Abruptly shatter in tones and die.
It whirled away.  Cold silence fell.
And again came tollings of a bell.

     *     *     *     *     *

This air is alive with witches: the white witch rides
Swifter than smoke on the starlit wind.
In the clear darkness, while the moon hides,
They come like dreams, like something remembered . .
Let us hurry! beloved; take my hand,
Forget these things that trouble your eyes,
Forget, forget!  Our flesh is changed,
Lighter than smoke we wreathe and rise . . .

The cold air hisses between us . . . Beloved, beloved,
What was the word you said?
Something about clear music that sang through water . . .
I cannot remember.  The storm-drops break on the leaves.
Something was lost in the darkness.  Someone is dead.
Someone lies in the garden and grieves.
Look how the branches are tossed in this air,
Flinging their green to the earth!
Black clouds rush to devour the stars in the sky,
The moon stares down like a half-closed eye.
The leaves are scattered, the birds are blown,
Oaks crash down in the darkness,
We run from our windy shadows; we are running alone.

     *     *     *     *     *

The moon was darkened: across it flew
The swift grey tenebrous shape he knew,
Like a thing of smoke it crossed the sky,
The witch! he said.  And he heard a cry,
And another came, and another came,
And one, grown duskily red with blood,
Floated an instant across the moon,
Hung like a dull fantastic flame . . .
The earth has veins: they throb to-night,
The earth swells warm beneath my feet,
The tips of the trees grow red and bright,
The leaves are swollen, I feel them beat,
They press together, they push and sigh,
They listen to hear the great bat cry,
The great red bat with the woman's face . . .
Hurry! he said.  And pace for pace
That other, who trod the dark with him,
Crushed the live leaves, reached out white hands
And closed her eyes, the better to see
The priests with claws, the lovers with hooves,
The fire-lit rock, the sarabands.
I am here! she said.  The bough he broke--
Was it the snapping bough that spoke?
I am here! she said.  The white thigh gleamed
Cold in starlight among dark leaves,
The head thrown backward as he had dreamed,
The shadowy red deep jasper mouth;
And the lifted hands, and the ****** *******,
Passed beside him, and vanished away.
I am here! she cried.  He answered 'Stay!'
And laughter arose, and near and far
Answering laughter rose and died . . .
Who is there? in the dark? he cried.
He stood in terror, and heard a sound
Of terrible hooves on the hollow ground;
They rushed, were still; a silence fell;
And he heard deep tollings of a bell.

     *     *     *     *     *

Look beloved!  Why do you hide your face?
Look, in the centre there, above the fire,
They are bearing the boy who blasphemed love!
They are playing a piercing music upon him
With a bow of living wire! . . .
The ****** harlot sings,
She leans above the beautiful anguished body,
And draws slow music from those strings.
They dance around him, they fling red roses upon him,
They trample him with their naked feet,
His cries are lost in laughter,
Their feet grow dark with his blood, they beat and
      beat,
They dance upon him, until he cries no more . . .
Have we not heard that cry before?
Somewhere, somewhere,
Beside a sea, in the green evening,
Beneath green clouds, in a copper sky . . .
Was it you? was it I?
They have quenched the fires, they dance in the darkness,
The satyrs have run among them to seize and tear,
Look! he has caught one by the hair,
She screams and falls, he bears her away with him,
And the night grows full of whistling wings.
Far off, one voice, serene and sweet,
Rises and sings . . .

'By the clear waters where once I died,
In the calm evening bright with stars. . . .'
Where have I heard these words?  Was it you who sang them?
It was long ago.
Let us hurry, beloved! the hard hooves trample;
The treetops tremble and glow.

     *     *     *     *     *

In the clear dark, on silent wings,
The red bat hovers beneath her moon;
She drops through the fragrant night, and clings
Fast in the shadow, with hands like claws,
With soft eyes closed and mouth that feeds,
To the young white flesh that warmly bleeds.
The maidens circle in dance, and raise
From lifting throats, a soft-sung praise;
Their knees and ******* are white and bare,
They have hung pale roses in their hair,
Each of them as she dances by
Peers at the blood with a narrowed eye.
See how the red wing wraps him round,
See how the white youth struggles in vain!
The weak arms writhe in a soundless pain;
He writhes in the soft red veiny wings,
But still she whispers upon him and clings. . . .
This is the secret feast of love,
Look well, look well, before it dies,
See how the red one trembles above,
See how quiet the white one lies! . . . .

Wind through the trees. . . and a voice is heard
Singing far off.  The dead leaves fall. . . .
'By the clear waters where once I died,
In the calm evening bright with stars,
One among numberless avatars,
I wedded a mortal, a mortal bride,
And lay on the stones and gave my flesh,
And entered the hunger of him I loved.
How shall I ever escape this mesh
Or be from my lover's body removed?'
Dead leaves stream through the hurrying air
And the maenads dance with flying hair.

     *     *     *     *     *

The priests with hooves, the lovers with horns,
Rise in the starlight, one by one,
They draw their knives on the spurting throats,
They smear the column with blood of goats,
They dabble the blood on hair and lips
And wait like stones for the moon's eclipse.
They stand like stones and stare at the sky
Where the moon leers down like a half-closed eye. . .
In the green moonlight still they stand
While wind flows over the darkened sand
And brood on the soft forgotten things
That filled their shadowy yesterdays. . . .
Where are the *******, the scarlet wings? . . . .
They gaze at each other with troubled gaze. . . .
And then, as the shadow closes the moon,
Shout, and strike with their hooves the ground,
And rush through the dark, and fill the night
With a slowly dying clamor of sound.
There, where the great walls crowd the stars,
There, by the black wind-riven walls,
In a grove of twisted leafless trees. . . .
Who are these pilgrims, who are these,
These three, the one of whom stands upright,
While one lies weeping and one of them crawls?
The face that he turned was a wounded face,
I heard the dripping of blood on stones. . . .
Hooves had trampled and torn this place,
And the leaves were strewn with blood and bones.
Sometimes, I think, beneath my feet,
The warm earth stretches herself and sighs. . . .
Listen!  I heard the slow heart beat. . . .
I will lie on this grass as a lover lies
And reach to the north and reach to the south
And seek in the darkness for her mouth.

     *     *     *     *     *

Beloved, beloved, where the slow waves of the wind
Shatter pale foam among great trees,
Under the hurrying stars, under the heaving arches,
Like one whirled down under shadowy seas,
I run to find you, I run and cry,
Where are you?  Where are you?  It is I.  It is I.
It is your eyes I seek, it is your windy hair,
Your starlight body that breathes in the darkness there.
Under the darkness I feel you stirring. . . .
Is this you?  Is this you?
Bats in this air go whirring. . . .
And this soft mouth that darkly meets my mouth,
Is this the soft mouth I knew?
Darkness, and wind in the tortured trees;
And the patter of dew.

     *     *     *     *     *

Dance!  Dance!  Dance!  Dance!
Dance till the brain is red with speed!
Dance till you fall!  Lift your torches!
Kiss your lovers until they bleed!
Backward I draw your anguished hair
Until your eyes are stretched with pain;
Backward I press you until you cry,
Your lips grow white, I kiss you again,
I will take a torch and set you afire,
I will break your body and fling it away. . . .
Look, you are trembling. . . Lie still, beloved!
Lock your hands in my hair, and say
Darling! darling! darling! darling!
All night long till the break of day.

Is it your heart I hear beneath me. . . .
Or the far tolling of that tower?
The voices are still that cried around us. . . .
The woods grow still for the sacred hour.
Rise, white lover! the day draws near.
The grey trees lean to the east in fear.
'By the clear waters where once I died . . . .'
Beloved, whose voice was this that cried?
'By the clear waters that reach the sun
By the clear waves that starward run. . . .
I found love's body and lost his soul,
And crumbled in flame that should have annealed. . .
How shall I ever again be whole,
By what dark waters shall I be healed?'

Silence. . . the red leaves, one by one,
Fall.  Far off, the maenads run.

Silence.  Beneath my naked feet
The veins of the red earth swell and beat.
The dead leaves sigh on the troubled air,
Far off the maenads bind their hair. . . .
Hurry, beloved! the day comes soon.
The fire is drawn from the heart of the moon.

     *     *     *     *     *

The great bell cracks and falls at last.
The moon whirls out.  The sky grows still.
Look, how the white cloud crosses the stars
And suddenly drops behind the hill!
Your eyes are placid, you smile at me,
We sit in the room by candle-light.
We peer in each other's veins and see
No sign of the things we saw this night.
Only, a song is in your ears,
A song you have heard, you think, in dream:
The song which only the demon hears,
In the dark forest where maenads scream . . .

'By the clear waters where once I died . . .
In the calm evening bright with stars . . . '
What do the strange words mean? you say,--
And touch my hand, and turn away.

Safe Harbor
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin N. Roberts

The sea at night seems
an alembic of dreams—
the moans of the gulls,
the foghorns’ bawlings.

A century late
to be melancholy,
I watch the last shrimp boat as it steams
to safe harbor again.

In the twilight she gleams
with a festive light,
done with her trawlings,
ready to sleep . . .

Deep, deep, in delight
glide the creatures of night,
elusive and bright
as the poet’s dreams.

Published by The Lyric, Romantics Quarterly, Angle, Poetry Porch and Poetry Life & Times. Keywords/Tags: Kevin Roberts, Kevin N. Roberts, Kevin Nicholas Roberts, Romantic, Poet, Romanticism, safe, harbor, night, dreams, imagination



These are poems I wrote for my friend Kevin Nicholas Roberts, who in addition to being a talented Romantic poet, was the founder and first editor of Romantics Quarterly.



Ophelia
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin N. Roberts

Ophelia, madness suits you well,
as the ocean sounds in an empty shell,
as the moon shines brightest in a starless sky,
as suns supernova before they die ...

My "Ophelia" was inspired by Kevin's "Ophelia" and, of course, by Shakespeare's Ophelia in "Hamlet."



Goddess
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin N. Roberts

“What will you conceive in me?”—
I asked her. But she
only smiled.

“Naked, I bore your child
when the wolf wind howled,
when the cold moon scowled . . .
naked, and gladly.”

“What will become of me?”—
I asked her, as she
absently stroked my hand.

Centuries later, I understand:
she whispered—“I Am.”

Published by Romantics Quarterly (the first poem in the first issue), Penny Dreadful, Unlikely Stories, Underground Poets, Poetically Speaking, Poetry Life & Times and Little Brown Poetry. Keywords: Muse, Goddess, Erato, Beloved, poetic, inspiration, lyric, poetry, divinity, Orpheus, Sappho



Talent
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin Nicholas Roberts

I liked the first passage
of her poem—where it led
(though not nearly enough
to retract what I said.)
Now the book propped up here
flutters, scarcely half read.
    It will keep.
    Before sleep,
let me read yours instead.

There's something of love
in the rhythms of night
—in the throb of streets
where the late workers drone,
in the sounds that attend
each day’s sad, squalid end—
that reminds us: till death
we are never alone.

So we write from the hearts
that will fail us anon,
    words in red
    truly bled
though they cannot reveal
    whence they came,
    who they're for.
And the tap at the door
goes unanswered. We write,
for there is nothing more
    than a verse,
    than a song,
than this chant of the blessed:
    If these words
    be my sins,
let me die unconfessed!
Unconfessed, unrepentant;
I rescind all my vows!
    Write till sleep:
    it’s the leap
only Talent allows.

"Talent" was a poem Kevin liked and requested more than once.



Too Gentle, Angelic
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin Nicholas Roberts

Too gentle, angelic for Nature, child,
too pure of heart for Religion’s vice . . .
Oh, charm us again, let us be beguiled!
With your passionate warmth melt men’s hearts of ice.

"Too Gentle, Angelic" was written shortly after Kevin's death. He died on December 10, 2008 and the poem was written on December 23, 2008, just before Christmas. 



Beloved
by Michael R. Burch

a prayer-poem for Kevin Nicholas Roberts

O, let me be the Beloved
and let the Longing be Yours;
but if You should “love” without Force,
how then shall I love—stone, unmoved?
But let me be the Beloved,
and let the Longing be Yours.

And as for the Saint, my dear friend,
tonight let his suffering end!,
and let him be your Beloved . . .
no longer be stone: Love unmoved!
But light on him now—Love, descend!
Tonight, let his suffering end.

For how can true Love be unmoved?
If he suffers for love, Love reproved,
I will never be your Beloved,
so love him instead, so behooved!
Yes, let him be your Beloved,
or let You be nothing, so proved.

Must this be our one and sole pact—
keep you ***** forever intact?

I wrote "Beloved" a few months before Kevin’s death.



Nightfall
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin Nicholas Roberts

Only the long dolor of dusk delights me now,
     as I await death.
The rain has ruined the unborn corn,
         and the wasting breath
of autumn has cruelly, savagely shorn
               each ear of its radiant health.
As the golden sun dims, so the dying land seems to relinquish its vanishing wealth.

Only a few erratic, trembling stalks still continue to stand,
     half upright,
and even these the winds have continually robbed of their once-plentiful,
          golden birthright.
I think of you and I sigh, forlorn, on edge
               with the rapidly encroaching night.
Ten thousand stillborn lilies lie limp, mixed with roses, unable to ignite.

Whatever became of the magical kernel, golden within
     at the winter solstice?
What of its promised kingdom, Amen!, meant to rise again
          from this balmless poultice,
this strange bottomland where one Scarecrow commands
               dark legions of ravens and mice?
And what of the Giant whose bellows demand our negligible lives, his black vice?

I find one bright grain here aglitter with rain, full of promise and purpose
     and drive.
Through lightning and hail and nightfalls and pale, cold sunless moons
         it will strive
to rise up from its “place” on a network of lace, to the glory
             of being alive.
Why does it bother, I wonder, my brother? O, am I unwise to believe?
                                    But Jack had his beanstalk
                              and you had your poems
                         and the sun seems intent to ascend
               and so I also must climb
          to the end of my time,
     however the story
may unwind
and
end.

I wrote "Nightfall" around a month after Kevin’s death.



Storied Lovers
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin and Janice Roberts

In your quest for the Beloved,
my brother, did you make
a near-fatal mistake?



Did you trust in the Enchantress,
La Belle Dame, as they say,
Sans Merci? Shall I pray
more kindly hands to gather you
to warmer *******, and hold
your Spirit there, enfold
your heart in love’s sweet blessedness?



No need! One Angel’s fond caress
was your sweet haven here.
None ever held more dear,
you harbored with your Anchoress
whenever storms drew near.



Whatever storms drew near,
however great the Flood,
she held you, kind and good,
no imperious savage Empress,
but as earthly Angels should.



In your quest for the Beloved
did the road take some strange fork
where ecstatic feys cavort
that led you to her hermitage
and her hearth, safe from that wood.
(Did La Belle Dame’s dark eyes hood?)



I am thankful for the marriage
two tender spirits shared.
When the raging waters glared
and the deadly bugles blared
like cruel Trumps of Doom, below
how strong death’s undertow!



But true spirits never sink.
Though he swam through hell’s fell stink
and a sea of putrid harms,
he swam back to your arms!

*

Life lived upon the brink
of death, man’s human fate,
can yet such Love create
that the hosts above, spellbound,
fall silent. So confound
the heavens with your Love
and fly, O tender Dove!,
to wherever hearts may rest
once having sweetly blessed
a heart like my dear brother’s
and be both storied lovers.

Amen

I wrote "Storied Lovers" on New Year’s Day, January 1, 2009.



You Were the One Who Talked to Angels
by Michael R. Burch

for Kevin Nicholas Roberts

You were the one who talked to Angels
while I was the one who berated God,
calling him Tyrant, Infidel, Fool,
Killer, Clown, Brute, Sod, Despot, Clod.

But you were the one who talked to Angels—
who, bathed in celestial light,
stood unarmed, except for your pen
and your journal, ecstatic, to write.

How kind their baptisms, how gentle their voices!
Considering their nature the world rejoices,
and you were their gentle, their chosen one . . .
you, my kind friend, now unkindly gone.

But you were the one who talked to Angels,
in empathy, being their kind,
a child of compassion whose tender heart
burst beneath skin’s ruptured rind.

You sought the Beloved with a questing Heart;
once found, the heav’n-quickened Spirit must fly!
You mastered Man’s strange, fatalistic Art—
to live, to love, to laugh, then die.

But living here, Angel, you found the arms
of a human Angel and, living, you knew
the glories of temporal, mortal love
where one and one eclipses two.

And now she mourns you, as we all do.

But you were the one who talked to Angels,
as William Blake did, in his day,
and, childlike, felt their eclectic grace—
sweet warmth, illuminating clay.

Two kinds of Warmth—a Wife’s, and Theirs.
Two kinds of Love—Human, Divine.
Two kinds of Grace—the Angels’, Hers.
Two Planes within one Heart combine.

And so you brought far heaven near,
and so you elevated earth
and Human Love, to where the Cloud
of Witnesses might see man’s worth.

*

My Christlike brother, who talked to Angels,
where do you soar today, I wonder?
Do you fly on white percussive wings,
far, far beyond earth’s abyssal thunder,
and looking back, regard the earth
and its lightnings and their bellowed hymns
as the sparks and groans of a temporal Forge,
as merely momentary things?

There, looking up, do you see the Host
of those who ascended, of those who see
all things more clearly, having slipped
thin veils of flesh, for Eternity?

And will you, in your Joy, forget
the sufferings of mere serfs below,
or will you remember, cry “Relent!”
to those with the power to bestow
the gifts of spirit upon the many
rather than just the Chosen Few,
who sell bottled grace for a pretty penny
and break the hearts of doves like you?

Or will you be the Advocate
of those who live—the ***; the *****;
the homeless man; the indigent;
the waif who begs at the kirk’s barred door
and dares not enter, for her “sins”
which the rich-robed mannequins deplore
as they circle her and mind the store?

Will mercy, pity, peace conspire
to hold you in their gravity
so that, still Human, you aspire
to change earth’s dark trajectory?

I wrote this poem the day after Kevin died.

Keywords/Tags: poetry, poems, poet, Kevin Roberts, Kevin N. Roberts, Kevin Nicholas Roberts, romantic, Romantics Quarterly

I
Today my heart is beating a sorrowful tune
and I don’t really know if it will end soon.
Since your departure all seems to be amiss
a pale reflection of that once heavenly bliss.
I have been left stranded on an alien shore
to fend for myself groping near your door.
The aftertaste of delight which our union once exuded
lingers on now in memory and feels like I was deluded.
Something doesn’t seem to be quite the same
even though I remember and repeat your name.
Your presence was what made the difference then
such a tangible feeling: will you not come again?
  I can only endeavour to lure you back once more
  so please don’t any of my genuine efforts ignore.

II
I look for you everywhere that I happen to go
but where you’re to be found I’d like to know.
Some say you’re in the heart and to look within
while others assert that you’re in the next of kin.
Life is really a situation of relationships with you
and knowledge of the ways of love gets us through.
If we come across difficulties and obstacles by love they’re resolved
which engenders compassion and understanding as it gets involved.
There are many people in the world who look in all the wrong places
searching for the same thing here in the available surrounding spaces.
Hoping that what they’ll find is what their heart most desires
and to fulfil this craving their mind with their heart conspires.
  Our inner being or soul though is the silent witness observing it all
  and expresses itself as our higher conscience when we heed its call.

III
To suffer in the agony of a lover’s separation we learn
that being away from the Beloved makes the heart burn.
It is even worse when the Beloved has gone away not saying why
and the lover has been left alone in the throes of love high and dry.
The heart cannot bear the pain of love in separation
and the mind seeks to achieve a suitable reconciliation.
When the power of love rules the heart mind hastens to obey
and doesn’t need any other reason to cause unwanted delay.
If all the lover’s efforts to a reunion only end in despair
then it may be better to let the matter rest awhile there.
True love cannot be really denied except at a great personal cost
and in desperation we seldom realise the value of what’s been lost.
  There is a saying that: ‘love will always find a way’
  and that a heart full of love over the mind holds sway.

IV
As I was never given a reason why you suddenly left
I can only assume that there isn’t one and love is bereft.
The heart has its own reasons which the mind can’t fathom
so the mind depends on the heart for matters in its *****.
Where the Beloved goes there the lovers also have to follow
because love is the magnet that draws them all nigh to go.
When the fragrance of love is in the air and lovers imbibe its scent
the intoxicating effect is a strong potion which on the heart is bent.
Man’s feeble mind relies more on the heart when the matter of love is concerned
but if the mind dominates and rationalises through the intellect love is adjourned.
If the mind of the lover is centred in the heart where the play of love is unfolding
it will experience anguish and misery when the Beloved anything is withholding.
  All true lovers will always seek the company and well-being of their beloved
  and are never satisfied with remaining at a distance if love is being uncovered.

V
Whose fault is it may I enquire if anyone falls irresistably in love
and the processes of love in separation overwhelm as from above?
What can one really do but follow wherever their heart leads
and undergo the agony in seeing that love is not displeased.
In seeking the pleasure of the Beloved one’s life becomes fulfilled
which otherwise would remain barren like a desolate land untilled.
When the Beloved sows the seeds of love in the fertile soil of one’s heart
all that was in there when that time comes must be sublimated or depart.
The arrows of love seek to pierce their target which is the heart of the lover
and the Beloved is the one drawing the bow with intent to **** we discover.
To die for love is much better than to live without we’ve heard often before
and those who lose their life in the cause of the Beloved will live forevermore.
  When the heart is purified and pure love is awakened by the Beloved’s grace
  any who are the recipients thereof realise that love in separation has its place.

Eyes that flash the soul of civilization
And warm the heart in observation.

Love that whispers with a gentle touch
And surrounds with hugs that seem so much.

Cry Beloved!

Water that caresses with a thousand tongues
Sunshine that coos all the birds’ songs

Teachers and vets, pronouns and clowns
Croissants, marmalade, coffee and new lawns.

Cry Beloved!

Breezes and sneezes, walks by the shore
Seashells that capture all the sea’s roar

Powdery sand and laconic lagoons
Daydreams and naps in the afternoons

Cry Beloved!

Smiles, museums, carriages in the park
Salads with friends and chocolates too dark

Rowing among lily pads and turtles and frogs
Hiking and crossing the streams on new logs.

Cry Beloved!

Flowers and bees buzzing in the sun
Hummingbirds hovering, dogs on the run

Children running, giggles and wiggles
Caring, learning, reading and snuggles

Cry Beloved!

Snowy mountains, valleys green
Faith proclaimed, faith unseen


Wonder and ponder, awe and reverence
Invitations from God to join in the dance

Cry beloved!

Hands held together in prayer and in love
Eyes raised to heaven on the wings of a dove

Caring so deep, affection so real
Feel the love and start to heal

Cry My Beloved!

SAPPHO'S POEMS FOR ATTIS AND ANACTORIA

Most of Sappho's poems are fragments but the first poem below, variously titled "The Anactoria Poem, " "Helen's Eidolon" and "Some People Say" is largely intact. Was Sappho the author of the world's first 'make love, not war' poem?

Some People Say
Sappho, fragment 16 (Lobel-Page 16 / Voigt 16)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Warriors on rearing chargers,
columns of infantry,
fleets of warships:
some call these the dark earth's redeeming visions.
But I say—
the one I desire.

Nor am I unique,
since she who so vastly surpassed all mortals in beauty
—Helen—
seduced by Aphrodite, led astray by desire,
departed for distant Troy,
abandoned her celebrated husband,
turned her back on her parents and child!

Her story reminds me of Anactoria,
who has also departed,
and whose lively dancing and lovely face
I would rather see than all the horsemen and war-chariots of the Lydians,
or their columns of infantry parading in flashing armor.



Ode to Anactoria or Ode to Attis
Sappho, fragment 94 (Lobel-Page 94 / Voigt 94)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

So my Attis has not returned
and thus, let the truth be said,
I wish I were dead...

'Honestly, I just want to die! '
Attis sighed,
shedding heartfelt tears,
inconsolably sad
when she
left me.

'How deeply we have loved,
we two,
Sappho!
Oh,
I really don't want to go! '

I answered her tenderly,
'Go as you must
and be happy,
trust-
ing your remembrance of me,
for you know how much
I loved you.

And if you begin to forget,
please try to recall
all
the heavenly emotions we felt
as with many wreathes of violets,
roses and crocuses
you sat beside me
adorning your delicate neck.

Once garlands had been fashioned of many woven flowers,
with much expensive myrrh
we anointed our bodies like royalty
on soft couches,
then my tender caresses
fulfilled your desire...'

Unfortunately, fragment 94 has several gaps and I have tried to imagine what Sappho might have been saying.



The following are Sappho's poems for Attis or Atthis...

Sappho, fragment 49 (Lobel-Page 49 / Voigt 49)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I loved you, Attis, long ago...
even when you seemed a graceless child.

2.
I fell in love with you, Attis, long ago...
You seemed immature to me then, and not all that graceful.

(Source: Hephaestion, Plutarch and others.)



Sappho, fragment 131 (Lobel-Page 131 / Voigt 130)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You reject me, Attis,
as if you find me distasteful,
flitting off to Andrómeda...


Sappho, fragment 96 (Lobel-Page 96.1-22 / Voigt 96 / Diehl 98)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Attis, our beloved, dwells in distant Sardis, but her thoughts often return here, to our island, and how we honored her like a goddess, and how she loved to hear us singing her praises. Now she surpasses all Sardinian women, as, after sunset the rosy-fingered moon outshines the surrounding stars, illuminating salt seas and meadows alike. Thus the dew sparkles, the rose revives, and the tender chervil and sweetclover blossom. Now oftentimes when our beloved goes wandering abroad, she is reminded of our gentle Attis; then her heart assaults her tender breast with its painful pangs and she cries aloud for us to console her. Truly, we understand all too well the distress she feels, because Night, the many-eared, calls to us from across the dividing sea. But to go there is not easy, nor to rival a goddess in her loveliness.



Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31 (Lobel-Page 31 / Voigt 31)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How can I compete with that ****** man
who fancies himself one of the gods,
impressing you with his 'eloquence' …
when just the thought of sitting in your radiant presence,
of hearing your lovely voice and lively laughter,
sets my heart hammering at my breast?
Hell, when I catch just a quick glimpse of you,
I'm left speechless, tongue-tied,
and immediately a blush like a delicate flame reddens my skin.
Then my vision dims with tears,
my ears ring,
I sweat profusely,
and every muscle in my body trembles.
When the blood finally settles,
I grow paler than summer grass,
till in my exhausted madness,
I'm as limp as the dead.
And yet I must risk all, being bereft without you...



Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31 (Lobel-Page 31 / Voigt 31)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To me that boy seems
blessed by the gods
because he sits beside you,
basking in your brilliant presence.
My heart races at the sound of your voice!
Your laughter? ―bright water, dislodging pebbles
in a chaotic vortex. I can't catch my breath!
My heart bucks in my ribs. I can't breathe. I can't speak.
My ******* glow with intense heat;
desire's blush-inducing fires redden my flesh.
My ears seem hollow; they ring emptily.
My tongue is broken and cleaves to its roof.
I sweat profusely. I shiver.
Suddenly, I grow pale
and feel only a second short of dying.
And yet I must endure, somehow,
despite my poverty.



The following poems by Sappho may have been addressed to Attis or Anactoria, or written with them in mind…

Sappho, fragment 22 (Lobel-Page 22 / Diehl 33,36)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.



Sappho, fragment 34 (Lobel-Page 34 / Voigt 34)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Awed by the Moon's splendor,
the stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.



Sappho, fragment 39
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're merely mortal women,
it's true;
the Goddesses have no rivals
but You.



Sappho, fragment 5
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're eclipsed here by your presence—
you outshine all the ladies of Lydia
as the bright-haloed moon outsplendors the stars.

I suspect the fragment above is about Anactoria, since Sappho associates Anactoria with Lydia in fragment 16.



Sappho, fragment 2 (Lobel-Page 2.1A)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Leaving your heavenly summit,
I submit
to the mountain,
then plummet.

Sappho associates her lovers with higher elevations: the moon, stars, mountain peaks.



Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

May the gods prolong the night
—yes, let it last forever! —
as long as you sleep in my sight.



Sappho, fragment 102 (Lobel-Page 102 / Voigt 102)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?



Sappho, fragment 147 (Lobel-Page 147 / *** 30)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Someone, somewhere
will remember us,
I swear!

'From Dio Chrysostom, who, writing about A.D.100, remarks that this is said 'with perfect beauty.''―Edwin Marion ***



Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I lust!
I crave!
**** me!



Sappho, fragment 11 (*** 109)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You inflame me!



Sappho, fragment 36 (Lobel-Page 36 / *** 24 & 25)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I yearn for―I burn for―the one I miss!

2.
While you learn,
I burn.

3.
While you discern your will,
I burn still.

According to Edwin Marion ***, this fragment is from the Etymologicum Magnum.



Sappho, fragment 155
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A short revealing frock?
It's just my luck
your lips were made to mock!

Pollux wrote: 'Sappho used the word beudos for a woman's dress, a kimbericon, a kind of short transparent frock.'



Sappho, fragment 156
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

She keeps her scents
in a dressing-case.
And her sense?
In some undiscoverable place.

Phrynichus wrote: 'Sappho calls a woman's dressing-case, where she keeps her scents and such things, grute.'



Sappho, fragment 47 (Lobel-Page 47 / Voigt 47)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.

The poem above is my favorite Sappho epigram. The metaphor of Eros (****** desire)  harrowing mountain slopes, leveling oaks and leaving them desolate, is really something―truly powerful and evocative. According to Edwin Marion ***, this Sapphic epigram was 'Quoted by Maximus Tyrius about 150 B.C. He speaks of Socrates exciting Phaedus to madness, when he speaks of love.'



Sappho, fragment 130 (Lobel-Page 130 / Voigt 130)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.



Sappho, unnumbered fragment
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What cannot be swept
aside
must be wept.



Sappho, fragment 138 (Lobel-Page 138)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Darling, let me see your face;
unleash your eyes' grace.

2.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' indulgence.

3.
Look me in the face,
smile,
reveal your eyes' grace...

4.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' acceptance.

5.
Darling, let me see your smiling face;
favor me again with your eyes' grace.



Sappho, fragment 38 (Incertum 25, *** 36)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I flutter
after you
like a chick after its mother...

From the 'Etymologicum Magnum' according to Edwin Marion ***.



In the following poem Sappho asks Aphrodite to "persuade" someone to fall in love with her. The poem strikes me as a sort of love charm or enchantment…

Hymn to Aphrodite (Lobel-Page 1)
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with such vigor!

But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers, as you did so graciously before;
O, come Divine One, descend once more
from heaven's golden dominions!

Then with your chariot yoked to love's
white consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you came gliding from heaven's shining heights,
to this dark gutter.

Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.

Asking me what I sought in my bewildered desire.
Asking, 'Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should Persuasion
summon here? '

'Although today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, soon she shall give them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly! '

Come to me now, O most Holy Aphrodite!
Free me now from my heavy heartache and anguish!
Graciously grant me all I request!
Be once again my ally and protector!

'Hymn to Aphrodite' is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety. The poem survived intact because it was quoted in full by Dionysus, a Roman orator, in his 'On Literary Composition, ' published around 30 B.C. A number of Sappho's poems mention or are addressed to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. It is believed that Sappho may have belonged to a cult that worshiped Aphrodite with songs and poetry. If so, 'Hymn to Aphrodite' may have been composed for performance within the cult. However, we have few verifiable details about the 'real' Sappho, and much conjecture based on fragments of her poetry and what other people said about her, in many cases centuries after her death. We do know, however, that she was held in very high regard. For instance, when Sappho visited Syracuse the residents were so honored they erected a statue to commemorate the occasion! During Sappho's lifetime, coins of ****** were minted with her image. Furthermore, Sappho was called 'the Tenth Muse' and the other nine were goddesses. Here is another translation of the same poem...



Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Rainbow-appareled, immortal-throned Aphrodite,
daughter of Zeus, wile-weaver, I beseech you: Hail!
Spare me your reproaches and chastisements.
Do not punish, dire Lady, my penitent soul!
But come now, descend, favor me with your presence.
Please hear my voice now beseeching, however unclear or afar,
your own dear voice, which is Olympus's essence —
golden, wherever you are...
Begging you to harness your sun-chariot's chargers —
those swift doves now winging you above the black earth,
till their white pinions whirring bring you down to me from heaven
through earth's middle air...
Suddenly they arrived, and you, O my Blessed One,
smiling with your immortal countenance,
asked what hurt me, and for what reason
I cried out...
And what did I want to happen most
in my crazed heart? 'Whom then shall Persuasion
bring to you, my dearest? Who,
Sappho, hurts you? "
"For if she flees, soon will she follow;
and if she does not accept gifts, soon she will give them;
and if she does not love, soon she will love
despite herself! '
Come to me now, relieve my harsh worries,
free me heart from its anguish,
and once again be
my battle-ally!



Sappho, fragment 113
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

No droning bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!


Sappho, fragment 113
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Neither the honey
nor the bee
for me!



Sappho, fragment 52
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The moon has long since set;
The Pleiades are gone;
Now half the night is spent,
Yet here I lie ... alone.



Sappho, fragment 2 (Lobel-Page 2 / Voigt 2)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, Cypris, from Crete
to meet me at this holy temple
where a lovely grove of apple awaits our presence
bowering altars
  fuming with frankincense.

Here brisk waters babble beneath apple branches,
the grounds are overshadowed by roses,
and through the flickering leaves
  enchantments shimmer.

Here the horses will nibble flowers
as we gorge on apples
and the breezes blow
  honey-sweet with nectar ...

Here, Cypris, we will gather up garlands,
pour the nectar gracefully into golden cups
and with gladness
  commence our festivities.


Sappho, fragment 58 (Lobel-Page 58)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virgins, be zealous for the violet-scented Muses' lovely gifts
and those of the melodious lyre ...
but my once-supple skin sags now;
my arthritic bones creak;
my ravenblack hair's turned white;
my lighthearted heart's grown heavy;
my knees buckle;
my feet, once fleet as fawns, fail the dance.
I often bemoan my fate ... but what's the use?
Not to grow old is, of course, not an option.

I am reminded of Tithonus, adored by Dawn with her arms full of roses,
who, overwhelmed by love, carried him off beyond death's dark dominion.
Handsome for a day, but soon withered with age,
he became an object of pity to his ageless wife.



Sappho, fragment 132 (Lobel-Page 132)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I have a delightful daughter
fairer than the fairest flowers, Cleis,
whom I cherish more than all Lydia and lovely ******.

2.
I have a lovely daughter
with a face like the fairest flowers,
my beloved Cleis …

It bears noting that Sappho mentions her daughter and brothers, but not her husband. We do not know if this means she was unmarried, because so many of her verses have been lost.



Sappho, fragment 131 (Lobel-Page 131)
loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch

1.
You reject me, Attis,
as if you find me distasteful,
flitting off to Andromeda ...

2.
Attis, you forsake me
and flit off to Andromeda ...



Sappho, fragment 140 (Lobel-Page 140)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

He is dying, Cytherea, the delicate Adonis.
What shall we lovers do?
Rip off your clothes, bare your ******* and abuse them!



Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?



Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

May the gods prolong the night
—yes, let it last forever!—
as long as you sleep in my sight.



... a sweet-voiced maiden ...
—Sappho, fragment 153, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I have the most childlike heart ...
—Sappho, fragment 120, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There was no dance,
no sacred dalliance,
from which we were absent.
—Sappho, fragment 19, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I love the sensual
as I love the sun’s ecstatic brilliance.
—Sappho, fragment 9, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I love the sensual
as I love the sun’s splendor.
—Sappho, fragment 9, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anointed yourself
with most exquisite perfume.
—Sappho, fragment 19, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Awed by the moon’s splendor,
stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.
—Sappho, fragment 34, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sappho, fragment 138, loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch

1.
Darling, let me see your face;
unleash your eyes' grace.

2.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' indulgence.

3.
Look me in the face,
           smile,
reveal your eyes' grace ...

4.
Turn to me,
favor me
with your eyes’ indulgence

Those I most charm
do me the most harm.
—Sappho, fragment 12, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Those I charm the most
do me the most harm.
—Sappho, fragment 12, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Midnight.
The hours drone on
as I moan here, alone.
—Sappho, fragment 52, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Once again I dive into this fathomless ocean,
intoxicated by lust.
—Sappho, after Anacreon, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Did this epigram perhaps inspire the legend that Sappho leapt into the sea to her doom, over her despair for her love for the ferryman Phaon? See the following poem ...

The Legend of Sappho and Phaon, after Menander
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Some say Sappho was an ardent maiden
goaded by wild emotion
to fling herself from the white-frothed rocks of Leukas
into this raging ocean
for love of Phaon ...

but others reject that premise
and say it was Aphrodite, for love of Adonis.

In Menander's play The Leukadia he refers to a legend that Sappho flung herself from the White Rock of Leukas in pursuit of Phaon. We owe the preservation of those verses to Strabo, who cited them. Phaon appears in works by Ovid, Lucian and Aelian. He is also mentioned by Plautus in Miles Gloriosus as being one of only two men in the whole world, who "ever had the luck to be so passionately loved by a woman."

Sappho, fragment 24, loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch

1a.
Dear, don't you remember how, in days long gone,
we did such things, being young?

1b.
Dear, don't you remember, in days long gone,
how we did such things, being young?

2.
Don't you remember, in days bygone,
how we did such things, being young?

3.
Remember? In our youth
we too did such reckless things.

Sappho, fragment 154, loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch

1.
The moon rose and we women
thronged it like an altar.

2.
Maidens throng
at the altar of Love
all night long.


Even as their hearts froze,
their feathers molted.
—Sappho, fragment 42, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your voice beguiles me.
Your laughter lifts my heart’s wings.
If I listen to you, even for a moment, I am left speechless.
—Sappho, fragment 31, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sappho, fragment 57
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
That country ***** bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!

1b.
That country ***** bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art
is hiking her dress
to reveal her ankles' nakedness!

2.
That hayseed ****
bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!

3.
That rustic girl bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking the hem of her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!



Sappho Translations by Michael R. Burch

These are Michael R. Burch's modern English translations of the immortal Sappho of ******, the great lyric poet who was called The Tenth Muse by her ancient peers. The other nine muses were goddesses, so Sappho was held in the very highest regard!



A short revealing frock?
It's just my luck
your lips were made to mock!
—Sappho, fragment 177, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.
—Sappho, fragment 47, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.
—Sappho, fragment 22, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Gongyla, wear, I beg,
that revealing white dress …
—Sappho, fragment 22, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Bed the bride with the beautiful feet,
or bring her to me!
—Sappho, fragment 103b, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



That hayseed ****
bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!
—Sappho, fragment 57, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I long helplessly for love. Gazing into your eyes not even Hermione compares. Who is your equal? I compare you only to goldenhaired Helen among mortal women. Know your love would free me from every care, and keep me awake nightlong beside dewy deltas.
—Sappho, fragment 22, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Aphrodite, do you not love the windlike dances
of beautiful, apple-cheeked Abanthis?
—Sappho, fragment 301, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I am an acolyte
of wile-weaving
Aphrodite.
—Sappho, fragment 12, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Sing, my sacred tortoiseshell lyre;
come, let my words
accompany your voice.
—Sappho, fragment 118, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



She keeps her scents
in a dressing-case.
And her sense?
In some undiscoverable place.
—Sappho, fragment 156, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?
—Sappho, fragment 36, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



May I lead?
Will you follow?
  Foolish man!
Ears so hollow,
minds so shallow,
never can!
—Sappho, fragment 169, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



With my two small arms, how can I
think to encircle the sky?
—Sappho, fragment 52, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



The black earth absorbed grief-stricken tears along with the interred sons of Atreus.
—Sappho, fragment 297, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Menelaus, son of Atreus, lies returned to the black earth, finally beyond agony.
—Sappho, fragment 27, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Gold does not rust,
yet my son becomes dust?
—Sappho, fragment 52, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Atthis, so charming in the bedroom, but otherwise hateful, proud and aloof, her teeth clicking like castanets.
—Sappho, fragment 87a, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



I sought the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.
—attributed to Sappho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Mnemosyne was stunned into astonishment when she heard honey-tongued Sappho, wondering how mortal men merited a tenth Muse.
—Antipater of Sidon, translated by Michael R. Burch



Mere air,
my words' fare,
but intoxicating to hear.
—Sappho, cup inscription, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



What cannot be swept
------------------------------------- aside
must be wept.
—Sappho, translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Pain
drains
me
to
the
last
drop
.
—Sappho, fragment 37, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?
—Sappho, fragment 102, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch


Spartan girls wear short skirts
and are brazen.
—attributed to Sappho, translator unknown



Someone, somewhere
will remember us,
I swear!
—Sappho, fragment 147, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



No droning bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!
—Sappho, fragment 146, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent
yet here I lie—alone.
—Sappho, fragment 168b, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Sappho, fragment 136
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

after Aaron Poochigian

Nightingale,
how handsomely you sing
your desire,
sweet crier
of blossoming spring.

2.
Nightingale, enticing-songed harbinger of spring. Sing!



Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.

2.
Eros, the limb-loosener,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.



Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I lust!
I crave!
F-ck me!



Sappho, fragment 93
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gongyla, wear, I beg,
that revealing white dress
when you come,
so that desire surrounds you,
descending in circling flight as you dance
to the strains of Abanthis's lyre
while I compose hymns to your loveliness,
both of us stirred by your beauty
and that dress!
Wherefore I once prayed to Aphrodite: I want
and she reprimanded me.



Sappho, fragment 24
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Don't you remember, in days bygone,
how we did such things, being young?

2.
Remember? In our youth
we too did such reckless things.

3.
Remember how we did such things in our youth? Many lovely and beautiful things in the city of dangerous enticements! We lived face-to-face with great daring amid those who inflict pain. Daring even to believe in golden-haired, slender-voiced Love …




The fragment below seems to be one of the most popular with translators …

Sappho, fragment 145

If you're squeamish, don't **** the beach rubble.―Mary Barnard
If you dont like trouble dont disturb sand.―Cid Corman
Don't move piles of pebbles.―Diane J. Rayor
Don't stir the trash.―Guy Davenport
If you're squeamish don't trouble the rubble!―Michael R. Burch
Let sleeping turds lie!―Michael R. Burch
Leave every stone unturned!―Michael R. Burch
Roll no stones, let them all gather moss!―Michael R. Burch
do not move stones―Anne Carson



Sappho, fragment 33
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Golden-crowned Aphrodite,
don't be a glory-hog!
Share a little of your luck with me!



Sappho, fragment 133 (Wharton 133, Barnard 31)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Blushing bride, brimful of rose-petaled love,
brightest jewel of the Goddess of Paphos,
come to the bridal bed,
tenderly entice your bridegroom.
May Hesperus lead you starry-eyed
to stand awestruck before the silver throne of Hera,
Goddess of Marriage!

2.
Of all the stars the fairest,
Hesperus,
lead the maiden straight to her bridegroom's bed,
honoring Hera, the goddess of marriage.

3.
The evening star
is of all stars the brightest,
the fairest.



Sappho, fragment 160
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I shall now sing skillfully
to please my companions.

2.
I shall sing these songs skillfully
to please my companions.

3.
Goddess,
let me sing skillfully
to please my companions.



Sappho, fragment 102 (Lobel-Page 102 / Diehl 114 / Bergk 90 / *** 87 / Barnard 12)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?

2.
Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?
Sly Aphrodite incited me!



Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
May the gods prolong the night
   —yes, let it last forever!—
as long as you sleep in my sight.

2.
I prayed that blessed night
might be doubled for us.



Sappho, fragment 123
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Just now I was called,
enthralled,
by golden-sandalled
dawn…



Sappho, fragment 22
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I bid you, Abanthis, grab your lyre
and sing of Gongyla, while desire
surrounds you. Sing of the lovely one,
how her clinging white dress excited you
as she whirled. Meanwhile, I rejoice
although Aphrodite once chided me
for praying … and yet I still pray to have her.



Sappho, fragment 23
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I long helplessly for love.
Gazing into your eyes not even Hermione compares.
Who is your equal?
I compare you only to goldenhaired Helen among mortal women.
Know your love would free me from every care, and keep me awake nightlong beside dewy deltas.



Sappho, fragment 78
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… nor were we without longing together,
as flowers long to delight …



Sappho, fragment 44
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The Wedding of Andromache and Hector

The herald arrived from Cyprus, Idaios, the fleetfooted Trojan messenger, whose ringing voice announced the wedding’s immortal fame to all Asia: “Hector and his companions deliver delightful-eyed delicate Andromache over the salt sea, on ships from holy Thebes and eternal-shored Plakia, with many gold bracelets, fragrant purple garments, iridescent adornments, and countless silver cups and ivory.” As he spoke, Hector’s beloved father sprang joyously to his feet and the report soon reached Hector's friends throughout the sprawling city. Immediately the sons of Ilos, Troy's founder, harnessed mules to smooth-wheeled carriages as throngs of women and slender-ankled virgins climbed aboard. Priam's daughters came in royal carriages. Elsewhere bachelors harnessed stallions to their chariots. From far and wide charioteers rode like gods toward the sacred gathering. Everyone of one accord they set out for Ilion accompanied by the melodies of sweet-voiced flutes, reed pipes and clacking castanets. The virgins sang sacred songs whose silvery echoes brightened the heavens. Everywhere in the streets wine bowls and cups were raised in jubilant toasts. The fragrances of myrrh, cassia and frankincense mingled together, perfuming the wind. The older women cried aloud for joy and the men's voices rang forcefully, calling on the archer Paion Apollo, master of the lyre, as all sang the praises of godlike Hector and Andromache.



Sappho, fragment 132
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I have a delightful daughter
fairer than the fairest flowers, Cleis,
whom I cherish more than all Lydia and lovely ******.

2.
I have a lovely daughter
with a face like the fairest flowers,
my beloved Cleis …



Sappho, fragment 295
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I fluttered
after you
like a chick after its mother …

2.
I fluttered
after you
like a chick after its hen …

3.
I flew back like a chick to its hen.

4.
I flew back like a child to its mother.



Sappho, fragment 30
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stay!
I will lay
out a cushion for you
with the plushest pillows …



Sappho, fragment 46
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My body descends
and my comfort depends
on your welcoming cushions!

From Herodian, according to Edwin Marion ***.



Sappho, fragment 140
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

He is dying, Cytherea, the delicate Adonis.
What shall we women do?
Virgins, rend your garments, bare your ******* and abuse them!



Sappho, fragment 168
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Alas, Adonis!



Sappho, fragment 55
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded,
as your worm-eaten corpse like your corpus degrades;
for those who never gathered Pieria's roses
must mutely accept how their memory fades
as they flit among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

2.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded,
as your worm-eaten corpse like your verse degrades;
for those who never gathered Pierian roses
must mutely accept how their reputation fades
among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

3.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded;
then imagine how quickly your reputation fades …
when you who never gathered the roses of Pieria
mutely assume your place
among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

4.
Death shall rule thee
eternally
now, my Lady,
for see:
your name lies useless, silent and forgotten
here and hereafter;
never again will you gather
the roses of Pieria, but only wander
misbegotten,
rotten
and obscure through Hades
flitting forlornly among the dismal shades.



Sappho, unnumbered fragment
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All mixed up, I drizzled.



Sappho, fragment 34
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Awed by the Moon's splendor,
the stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.

2a.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
the fairest.

2b.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
the brightest.

2c.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
by far
the fairest,
the brightest―
possessing the Moon's splendor.

2d.
You are,
compared to every star,
by far
the fairest,
the brightest―
surpassing the Moon's splendor.

3.
The stars lose their luster in the presence of the waxing moon when she graces the earth with her silver luminescence.

4.
The stars, abashed, hide their faces when the full-orbed moon floods the earth with her clear silver light.

5a.
Stars surrounding the brilliant moon pale whenever she lights the earth.

5b.
Stars surrounding the brilliant moon pale whenever she silvers the earth.



Sappho, fragment 39
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're merely mortal women,
it's true;
the Goddesses have no rivals
but You.



Sappho, fragment 5
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're eclipsed here by your presence—
you outshine all the ladies of Lydia
as the bright-haloed moon outsplendors the stars.

I suspect the fragment above is about Anactoria aka Anaktoria, since Sappho associates Anactoria with Lydia in fragment 16.



Sappho, fragment 16
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Those I most charm
do me the most harm.

2.
Those I charm the most
do me the most harm.



Sappho, fragment 68a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Apart from me they became like goddesses
in their unrestrained excesses.
Guilty Andromedas. Deceitful Megaras.



Sappho, fragment 62
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You lay in wait,
beautiful in your garments
beneath a sweet-scented laurel tree,
then ambushed me!



Sappho, fragment 154
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
The moon rose and we women
thronged it like an altar.

1b.
As the full moon rose,
we women
thronged it like an altar.

1c.
Women thronged the altar at moonrise.

2.
All night long
lithe maidens thronged
at the altar of Love.

3.
Maidens throng
at the altar of Love
all night long.

4.
The moon shone, full
as the virgins ringed Love's altar …



Sappho, fragment 2
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Leaving your heavenly summit,
I submit
to the mountain,
then plummet.



Sappho, fragment 129
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You forget me
or you love another more!
It's over.

2.
It's over!
Who can move
a hard heart?



Sappho, fragment 51
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I'm undecided.
My mind? Torn. Divided.

2.
Unsure as a babe new-born,
My mind is divided, torn.

3.
I don't know what to do:
My mind is divided, two.



Sappho, fragment 78
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… nor were we without longing together,
as flowers long to delight …



Sappho, fragment 68a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Apart from me they became like goddesses
in their unrestrained excesses.
Guilty Andromedas. Deceitful Megaras.



Sappho, fragment 23
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I long helplessly for love. Gazing into your eyes not even Hermione compares. Who is your equal? I compare you only to goldenhaired Helen among mortal women. Know your love would free me from every care, and keep me awake nightlong beside dewy deltas.



Sappho, fragment 62
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You lay in wait,
beautiful in your garments
beneath a sweet-scented laurel tree,
then ambushed me!



Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the bride comes
let her train rejoice!



Sappho, fragment 113
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bridegroom,
was there ever a maid
so like a lovely heirloom?



Sappho, fragment 19
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anoint yourself
with the most exquisite perfume.



Sappho, fragment 120
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I'm no resenter;
I have a childlike heart …

2.
I'm not resentful;
I have a childlike heart …

3.
I'm not spiteful;
I have a childlike heart …

4.
I'm not one who likes to wound,
but have a calm disposition.



Sappho, fragment 126
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
May you sleep, at rest,
on your tender girlfriend’s breast.

2.
May your head gently rest
on the breast
of the tenderest guest.

3.
May your head gently rest
on the tender breast
of the girl you love best.



Sappho, fragment 107
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Is there any good in maidenhood?

2.
Is there any synergy
in virginity?



Sappho, fragment 81
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dica! Do not enter the presence of Goddesses ungarlanded!
First weave sprigs of dill with those delicate hands, if you desire their favor,
for the Blessed Graces disdain bareheaded girls.



Sappho, fragment 58
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
I confess
that I love a gentle caress,
as I love the sun's ecstatic brilliance.

1b.
I confess
that I love her caresses;
for me Love blazes with the sun’s brilliance.

1c.
I love refinement
and for me Eros
blazes with the sun's beauty, brightness and brilliance.

2.
I love the sensual
as I love the sun's ecstatic brilliance.

3.
I love the sensual
as I love the sun's celestial splendor.

4.
I cherish extravagance,
intoxicated by Love's celestial splendor.



Sappho, fragment 127
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Assemble now, Muses, leaving golden landscapes!



Sappho, fragment 138
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Darling, let me see your face;
unleash your eyes' grace.

2.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' indulgence.

3.
Look me in the face,
           smile,
reveal your eyes' grace …

4.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' acceptance.

5.
Darling, let me see your smiling face;
favor me again with your eyes' grace.



Sappho, fragment 38
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You inflame me!

2.
You ignite and inflame me …
You melt me.



Sappho, fragment 12
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am an acolyte
of wile-weaving
Aphrodite.



Sappho, fragment 4
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What can Sappho possibly offer
all-blessed Aphrodite?



Sappho, fragment 104a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hesperus, herdsman most blessed!,
you herd homeward the wayward guest,
herd sheep and goats back home to their rest,
herd children to snuggle at their mother's breast.



Sappho, fragment 105
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Like the quince-apple ripening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed, or forgot—somehow—
or perhaps just couldn't reach, until now.

Like a mountain hyacinth rarely found,
which shepherds' feet trampled into the ground,
leaving purple stains on an unmourned mound.

2.
You're the sweetest apple reddening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed, or forgot—somehow—
or perhaps just couldn't reach, until now.

3.
You're the sweetest apple reddening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed … but, no, …
they just couldn't reach that high.



Sappho, fragment 145
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Prometheus the Fire-Bearer
robbed the Gods of their power
and so
brought mankind and himself to woe …
must you repeat his error?



Sappho, fragment 169
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

May I lead?
Will you follow?
Foolish man!

Ears so hollow,
minds so shallow,
never can!



Sappho, fragments 156
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Your voice—
a sweeter liar
than the lyre,
more dearly bought
and sold,
than gold.

2.
Your voice?—
more melodious than the lyre,
more dearly bought and sold
than gold.



Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
She wrapped herself then in
most delicate linen.

2.
She wrapped herself in
her most delicate linen.



Sappho, fragment 57
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
That country ***** bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!

1b.
That country ***** bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art
is hiking her dress
to reveal her ankles' nakedness!

2.
That hayseed ****
bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to ****** you with her ankles' nakedness!



Sappho, fragment 54
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Eros
descended from heaven
clad in his imperial purple mantle.

2.
Eros
descends from heaven
wearing his imperial purple mantle.



Sappho, fragment 121
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As a friend you're great,
but you need a much younger bedmate.

2.
Although you're very dear to me,
please don't be silly!
You need a much younger filly.

3.
Although you're very dear to me
you need a much younger filly;
I'm far too old for you,
and this old mare's just not that **** silly.



Sappho, after Anacreon
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Once again I dive into this fathomless ocean,
intoxicated by lust.



The Legend of Sappho and Phaon, after Menander
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Some say Sappho was an ardent maiden
goaded by wild emotion
to fling herself from the white-frothed rocks of Leukas
into this raging ocean
for love of Phaon …

but others reject that premise
and say it was Aphrodite, for love of Adonis.



Sappho, fragment 140
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Phaon ferried the Goddess across:
the Goddess of Love, so men say
who crowned him with kingly laurels.
Was he crowned for only a day?



Sappho, fragment 105c
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Shepherds trample the larkspur
whose petals empurple the heath,
foreshadowing shepherds' grief.



Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The softest pallors grace
her lovely face.



Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I yearn for―I burn for―the one I miss!

2.
While you learn,
I burn.

3.
While you try to discern your will,
I burn still.



Sappho, fragment 30
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virgins, keeping vigil all night long,
go, make a lovely song,
sing of the love you abide
for the violet-robed bride.

Or better yet―arise, regale!
Go entice the eligible bachelors
so that we shocked elders
can sleep less than the love-plagued nightingales!



Sappho, fragment 122
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
A willowy girl plucking wildflowers.

1b.
A willowy girl picking wildflowers.

2.
A tender maiden plucking flowers
persuades the knave
to heroically brave
the world's untender hours.



Sappho, fragment 125
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love, bittersweet Dispenser of pain,
Weaver of implausible fictions:
     flourishes in prosperity,
     weeps for life's perversity,
     quails before adversity,
dies haggard, believing she's pretty.



Sappho, fragment 201
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Death is evil;
so the Gods decreed
or they would die.

2.
Death is evil; the Gods all agree.
For, had death been good,
the Gods would
be mortal, like me.



Sappho, fragment 43
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, dear ones,
let us cease our singing:
morning dawns.



Sappho, fragment 14
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Today
may
buffeting winds bear
all my distress and care
away.

2.
Today
may
buffeting winds bear
away
all my distress and care.



Sappho, fragment 69
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I gladly returned
to soft arms I once spurned.

2.
Into the soft arms of the girl I once spurned,
I gladly returned.



Sappho, fragment 29
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since my paps are dry and my barren womb rests,
let me praise lively girls with violet-scented *******.



Sappho, fragment 1
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Beautiful swift sparrows
rising on whirring wings
flee the dark earth for the sun-bright air …



Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Girls ripening for marriage wove flowers into garlands.

2.
Girls of the ripening maidenhead wove garlands.

3.
Girls of the ripening maidenhead wore garlands.



Sappho, fragment 94 & 98
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Listen, my dear;
by the Goddess I swear
that I, too,
(like you)
had to renounce my false frigidity
and surrender my virginity.
My wedding night was not so bad;
you too have nothing to fear, so be glad!
(But then why do I sometimes still think with dread
of my lost maidenhead?)



Sappho, fragment 114
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Maidenhead! Maidenhead!
So swiftly departed!
Why have you left me
forever brokenhearted?



Sappho, fragment 2
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch, after Sappho and Tennyson

I sip the cup of costly death;
I lose my color, catch my breath
whenever I contemplate your presence,
or absence.



Sappho, fragment 32
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
The Muses honored me by gifting me works.

2.
The Muses gave me their gifts and made me famous.

3.
They have been very generous with me,
the violet-strewing Muses of Olympus;
thanks to their gifts
I have become famous.



Sappho, fragment 3
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stars ringing the lovely moon
pale to insignificance
when she illuminates the earth
with her magnificence.



Sappho, fragment 49
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You have returned!
You did well to not depart
because I pined for you.
Now you have re-lit the torch
I bear for you in my heart,
this flare of Love.
I bless you and bless you and bless you
because we're no longer apart.



Sappho, fragment 52
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Yesterday,
you came to my house
to sing for me.

Today,
I come to you
to return the favor.

Talk to me. Do.
Sweet talk,
I love the flavor!

Please send away your maids
and let us share a private heaven-
haven.



Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There was no dance,
no sacred dalliance,
from which we were absent.



Sappho, fragment 152
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… shot through
with innumerable hues …



Sappho, fragment 46
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You came and did well to come
because I desired you. You made
love blaze in my breast, thus I bless you …
but not the endless hours when you're gone.



Sappho, fragment 153
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They call me the sweet-voiced girl, parthenon aduphonon.



Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anointed yourself
with the most exquisite perfume.



Sappho, fragment 42
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As their hearts froze,
their feathers molted.

2.
As their hearts grew chill
their wings grew still.

3.
Their hearts quieted,
they alighted.



Sappho, fragment 134
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Selene came to Endymion in the cave,
made love to him as he slept,
then crept away before the sun could prove
its light and warmth the more adept.



Sappho, fragment 47
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.



Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?



Sappho, fragment 52
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

With my two small arms, how can I
think to encircle the sky?



Sappho, fragment 137
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gold does not rust,
yet my son becomes dust?



Sappho, fragment 48
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You did well to come and I yearned for you.
Though I burned with desire, you cooled my fevered mind.



Mere air,
my words' fare,
but intoxicating to hear.
—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch



Sappho, fragment 9
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Mere breath,
words I command
are nevertheless immortal.



Sappho, fragment 118
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sing, my sacred tortoiseshell lyre;
come, let my words
accompany your voice.



My Religion
attributed to Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
I discovered the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.

1b.
I found the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.

1c.
I sought the Goddess in your body's curves and crevasses.

2a.
My religion consists of your body's curves and crevasses.

2b.
My religion became your body's curves and crevasses.

2c.
I discovered my religion in your body's curves and crevasses.



Sappho, fragment 37
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Pain
drains
me
to
the
last
drop
.

2.
Pain drains me;
may thunderstorms and lightning
strike my condemners.



Sappho, fragment 147
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Someone, somewhere
will remember us,
I swear!



Sappho, fragment 146
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
No droning bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!

1b.
No buzzing bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!

2.
Neither the honey
nor the bee
for me!



Sappho, fragment 168b
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1a.
Midnight.
The hours drone on
as I moan here, alone.

1b.
Midnight.
The hours drone.
I moan,
alone.

2a.
The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent
yet here I lie—alone.

2b.
The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent
yet here I sleep, alone.



Sappho, fragment 119
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
We brought the urn aboard the barge, inscribed:
This is the dust of Timas,
whom Persephone received, *****, into her bedchamber,
for whom her fellowmaidens in mourning
slashed their soft curls with sharpened blades.

2.
This is the dust of Timas, dead, *****,
whom Persephone took to her dark bed,
for whom her fellowmaidens, mourning,
hacked off their locks like sheep at a shearing.



Sappho, fragment 21
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A purple scarf shadowed your face—
a cherished gift from Timas,
sent from Phocaea.



Sappho, fragment 290
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Dancing rhythmically, with light feet,
the Cretan women thronged the altar,
trampling circles in the fine soft flowering grass.

2.
Dancing rhythmically, with light feet,
to the pulsating beat,
Cretan
women thronged the altar in their mass,
trampling circles in the fine soft flowering grass.



Sappho, fragment 128
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come join us, tender Graces
and lovely-haired Muses,
in our ecstatic dances!



Sappho, fragment 93
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Our playmates are pink-ankled Graces
and golden Aphrodite!



Sappho, fragment 53
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, rosy-armed Graces,
Zeus's daughters,
in your perfection!



Sappho, fragment 111
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Raise the rafters, carpenters.
Hoist high the roof-beams!

***** Hymenaeus!

Here comes the bridegroom,
statuesque as Ares!

***** Hymenaeus!



Sappho, fragment 112
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lucky bridegroom,
your wedding day has finally arrived
and your alluring bride is your heart’s desire!



Sappho, fragment 32 (Barnard 32)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virginity!
Alas my lost Virginity!



Sappho, fragment 57
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Heavy-lidded Slumber, child of Night, claimed them.



Sappho, fragment 57a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Aphrodite's handmaid, resplendent in gold,
Hecate, Queen of Darkness untold!



Sappho, fragment 63
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Last night, Cyprian,
you and I clashed (s)words
in my dreams.



Sappho, fragment 48
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Now I know why Eros,
of all the gods’ offspring,
is most blessed.



Sappho, fragment 68
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

That was then, this is now!
In those days my maidenhead was in full bloom,
then you …



Sappho, fragment 135
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Golden Persuasion, Aphrodite's daughter,
how you deceive mortals!



Sappho, fragment 88
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why, Procne,
delicate swallow, daughter of Pandīon,
why do you weary me with tales of woe?



Sappho, fragment 287
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I once instructed Hero of Gyara, the fleetfooted.



Sappho, fragment 15
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Cypris, may she find you a harsh mistress,
Doricha, the ****!
Put an end to her bragging,
nor let her boast that she fooled him twice,
my brother's embezzler!

Doricha was a courtesan who allegedly caused Sappho's brother Charaxus to lose considerable wealth. Doricha was also known by the pseudonym Rhodopis, which means "rosy-cheeked."



Sappho, fragment 7
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Doricha commands arrogantly,
like young men.



Sappho, fragment 148
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A vagabond friendship,
a public blessing …
repent Rhodopis!



Sappho, fragment 138
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The beautiful courtesan Rhodopis,
lies here entombed, more fair
than when she walked with white lilies
plaited in her dark hair,
but now she's as withered as they:
whose dust is more gray?



Sappho, fragment 5
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Revered Nereids, divine sea-daughters, please grant that my brother may return unharmed,
his heart's desires all fulfilled,
and may he show his sister more honor than in his indifferent past …
But you, O august Kypris, please keep him from unbearable dooms!



Sappho, fragment 148
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Wealth unaccompanied by Character
is a dangerous houseguest,
but together they invite happiness.



Sappho, fragment 201
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Gold is indestructible.

2.
Gold is God's indestructible Child:
the One neither moth nor worm devours.



Sappho, fragment 66
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Ares bragged he'd drag forge-master Hephaestus off by sheer force!



Sappho, fragment 120
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Over fisherman Pelagon's grave his father Meniscus left creel and oar, relics of a luckless life.



Sappho, fragment 143
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How golden broom brightens riverbanks!



Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You remind me of a little girl
I once assisted picking flowers.



Sappho, fragment 95
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Lord Hermes, you guide spirits to their final destination.
Now guide me, for I am despondent and wish only to die,
to see the lotus-lined shores of Acheron.



Sappho, fragment 150
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1
Cleis, daughter, don't cry!
Mourning is unbecoming a poet's household.

2.
For those who serve the Muses,
mourning is unbecoming.



Sappho, fragment 56
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Will any woman
born under the sun
ever match your art?

2.
No woman
born under the sun
will ever have your wisdom.



Sappho, fragment 135
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Erinna, why does darkwinged Procne, King Pandion's daughter, beckon?



Sappho, fragment 17
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hear me, Queen Hera, as your delightful festival nears,
you to whom the sons of Atreus performed vows,
those dazzling kings who did such amazing things,
first at Troy, then later at sea.
And yet, sailing the sea-road to our island,
those mighty kings still could not attain it
until they had called on you and Zeus,
the god of seekers and beseechers,
and Dionysus, alluring son of Semele.
Now we too perform the ancient rites,
O most holy and most beautiful Goddess,
we throngs of virgins, young women and wives.
Please allow us to arrive safely at the shrine.



Sappho, fragment 86
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

In this quiet moment,
I beg a boon from Zeus,
the bearer of the aegis,
even as I implore, O Aphrodite,
the tenderness of your benevolent heart;
hear my prayer, as once before,
when, departing Cyprus,
you heeded my earnest cry
and chose not to be harsh.



Sappho, fragment 44a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Golden-haired Phoebus was sired on Leto by the high-soaring son of Kronos. His sister, Artemis, swore a great oath to Zeus: “By your crown, I shall always be an ***** ****** hunting on remote mountaintops. Assent!” The father of the Blessed Ones nodded his consent. Now gods and mortals call her The ****** Huntress and Eros, limb-loosener, dare never approach her!



Sappho, fragment 168c
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gaia, rainbow-crowned, garbs herself in myriad hues.



Sappho, fragment 101a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Undaunted by summer ablaze
the cicada emits its high, shrill song.



Sappho, fragment 103
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sing of the bride with shapely feet, fair as the violet-robed daughter of Zeus, Artemis. Let the violet-robed bride calm her bridegroom's anger. Come holy Graces and Pierian Muses, whose sweet-toned songs soothe the overwrought heart. Let the annoyed bridegroom complain to his companions as she redoes her hair, fiddles with her lyre, and tries on dawn-golden sandals!



Sappho, fragment 103b
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bed the bride with the beautiful feet,
or bring her to me!



Sappho, fragment 141
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Hermes mixed ambrosia in a bowl,
then poured it for the gods
who, having lifted their cups, made libations,
then in one voice blessed the bridegroom.



Sappho, fragment 27
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Because you were once young and loved to dance and sing, come, think favorably of us and be gracious. You know we're off to a wedding, so quickly as possible please send the virgins away. And may the gods bless us here since there's no path yet for men to reach great Olympus.



Sappho, fragment 115
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dear groom,
to whom
may I compare you?
To a slender sapling.



Sappho, fragment 103c
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
… remembering delightful Arheanassa,
her laughter lovely as any Lorelei's …

2.
… remembering delightful Arheanassa,
her laughter lovely as any water nymph's …



Sappho, fragment 76
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Fulfill?
At my age I'm just hanging on!



Sappho, fragment 45
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As long as you desire, I do!

2.
As long as you command, I obey!

3.
As long as you will, I submit.

4.
As long as you want me, I'm yours.



Sappho, fragment 50
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A handsome man pleases the eyes
but a good man pleases.



Sappho, fragment 41
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

For you, O my Beautiful Ones,
my mind is unalterable.



Sappho, fragment 18
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Everyone extols my storytelling:
"better than any man's!"



Sappho, fragment 88
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Though you prefer not to get carried away
and may imagine someone sweeter to behold,
someone who may yet say "Yes!"
still I will love you as long as there's breath in me,
swallowing the bitter,
ever the faithful lover.



Sappho, fragment 158
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When anger floods your chest,
best to still a reckless tongue.



Sappho, fragment 129
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They say Sappho's sweetest utterance
Was the hymeneal hymn of Love.



Sappho, fragment 153
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Queen Dawn,
solemn Dawn,
come!



Sappho, fragment 26
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Why, Mistress Aphrodite,
*******! Why do you
fill me with such lust? Why
inflict such suffering on me?
When I prayed to you in the past,
you  never treated me with such indifference!



Sappho, fragment 132
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Love, the child of Aphrodite and heaven;
Sappho, of earth;
Who had the more divine birth?



In the following 101 short translations the fragment numbers are Lobel-Page unless otherwise noted. All translations are by Michael R. Burch and should be so credited if they are used in any way, shape or form.

I now, with all my heart, fully, as much as it is possible for me, blossom to see your lovely face, touching. (4)

Let's go ogle golden-armed Lady Dawn before our doom. (6b)

It's impossible to be happy and human; yet I still pray a share for myself, of happiness. (16a)

Even this pressed for time, tonight we can raise a toast to the stars. (18a)

Put on your finery and with any luck we'll make harbor — back to dry land, back to the black earth. (20)

Though I'm skilled in lament and trembling with wrinkle-skinned age, yet there is the chase. Strum your lyre and sing to us of violet-robed loveseekers, Abanthis! (21)

Left to our own devices, two pretty young things, we found our way to the bedroom. (25)

Menelaus, son of Atreus, lies returned to the black earth, finally beyond agony. (INCERT. 27)

Colorful Lydian sandals covered her feet. So beautiful! (39)

At your altar, unforgiving Mistress, I will sacrifice a white goat and offer libations. (40)

I and Archeanassa, Gorgo's wife … (42a)

Beauty brings peace when my mind is troubled. Come sit beside me, friends, for day draws nigh. (43)

Once fleeing, hounded and bitten by gods, you gave me a name, put fame in my mouth. (58a)

O darkwinged dream you soar on night's drafts to sleep with the gods, and I am in agony to sense such distant power for I expect to share nothing with the blessed. I would rather not be left with mere trinkets, yet may I have them all! (63)

Andromeda may have abandoned you, but I, Aphrodite, Queen of Cyprus, still love you, Sappho, as the sun illuminates everything, everywhere; even by the dewy banks of Acheron, I am with you. (65)

I come to join the harmonies of a joyful chorus: sweet-toned, clear-voiced. (70)

Aphrodite, goddess of sweet-sung desires, sits on her throne of blooms in the beautiful dew. (73)

Aphrodite, sweet-talking goddess of love, sits on her throne of blooms in the beautiful dew. (73)

Joy? What joy? You gave me nothing: though beautiful, always unsmiling. (77)

She was all hair, otherwise nothing. (80)

Mnasidika is more curvaceous than even our soft Gyrinno. (82a)

Wait here once again, because … I come! (84)

You enrich me, like listening to an old man. (85)

We, having left rumors behind, departed people in a frenzy, tearing out their hair. (87)

Atthis, so charming in the bedroom, but otherwise hateful, proud and aloof, her teeth clicking like castanets. (87a)

Though you caused my soul and my heart sorrow, here's a small truth: I will always say "I love you" with a true heart. (88a)

Persuasion, Aphrodite's fledgling, with her broad, arrogant wings, sped me to Gyrinno, then to graceful Atthis. (90)

Irana, you're the biggest pain I've ever met! (91)

… saffron-dyed Phrygian purple robes and rugs … (92)

Later Polyanaktidis takes the lyre, strums the chords till they vibrate softly, and yet the sound pierces bones and melts the marrow. (99a)

Sons of Zeus, come to your rites from wooded Gryneia, here to our oracle! Then let the ritual songs begin! (99b)

Expensive gifts, these scented purple headscarves Mnasis sent us from Phokaia. (101)

Gorgo took her many insignificant verses to Cyprus, to be admired by many. (103a)

******'s singers reign supreme! (106)

Lesbian singers out-sing all others. (106)

… a most beautiful, graceful girl … (108)

The doorkeep’s feet are seven fathoms long, fill five oxhides, and it took ten cobblers to strap his sandals! (110)

Groom, to whom can I fairly compare you? To a slender sapling. (115)

Rejoice, most honored bride and groom! Rejoice! (116)

May the bride rejoice and her groom rejoice. Rejoice! (117)

The newlyweds appeared at the polished entryway. (117a)

Hesperus, star of the evening! *****, god of marriage! Adonis-like groom! (117b)

She stunned us in / wet linen. (119)

I'm talented, it's true, / but you / Calliope, remain unrivaled. (124)

I now wear garlands, who once wove them. (125)

Come again, Muses, leaving the golden heavens. (126)

Andromeda had a fine retort: "Sappho, why did Aphrodite so favor you? Did you ****** her?" (133)

We once spoke in a dream, Cyprian! (134)

Nightingale, enticing-songed harbinger of spring. Sing! (136)

The gods alone are above tears. (139)

They've all had their fill of Gorgo. (144)

Nightlong celebration wearies their eyes, then closes them. (149)

Our eyes embrace the black sleep of night. (151)

… many colors mingled … (152)

Women thronged the altar at moonrise. (154)

A hearty "Hello!" to the daughter of Polyanax. (155)

Lady Dawn, arise, / flood night's skies / with cerise. (157)

Imperial Aphrodite said: "You and Eros are my vassals. (159)

Imperial Aphrodite! bridegrooms bow down to Her! kings are Her bodyguards and squires. (161)

You "see" me? With whose eyes? (162)

Oh, my dearest darling, never depart/ or you'll wreck my heart! (163)

Leto summons her son, the Sun. (164)

To himself he seems godly, to us a boor. (165)

Leda, they said, once discovered a hidden, hyacinth-blue egg. (166)

Whiter than eggs, your unsunned *******. (167)

She's fonder of children than cradlerobber Gello. (168a)

We ran like fawns from the symposium: me, Cleis and reckless Gongyla. (168d)

Destiny is from the Muses, / and thus I was destined to leave him / to become / Sappho, Mistress of Song. (168e,f)

Unknowing of evil, I was pure innocence. (171)

Eros, pain-inducer, desist! (172)

She grew like a trellis vine. (173)

Mighty Zeus, World-Holder! (180)

Little is learned with an easy passage, much by a hard. (181)

May I go, or must you? (182)

Eros gusting blew my heart to pieces. (183)

I live in danger of too much love. (184)

Men fell in love with my honeyed voice, but I fell for girls. (185)

Sappho: Let me be one of the Muses when I die! Aphrodite: Granted! (187)

Eros, story-weaver, never a happy ending? (188)

I was very wise, except in the ways of love. (190)

That girl grew curvy and curly, like celery. (191)

We raised golden goblets inlaid with ivory and toasted the stars. (192)

I once instructed Hero of Gyara, the fleetfooted runner. (287)

We collapsed, drenched in sweat on both sides. (288)

Dawn spilled down the high mountains. (289)

Trading rosy health for less heartache, I fled my girlish youth. (291)

Such a boy once drove his chariot to Thebes, while Malis spun his fate on her spindle. (292, Malis was a Lydian war goddess)

"Thorneater?" That doesn't offend irongutted Arcadians! (293)

Hecate, Aphrodite's golden-armored ally, Queen of the Underworld. (294)

Learn from Admetus to love the courageous and avoid cowards, who seldom show gratitude. (296)

The black earth absorbed grief-stricken tears along with the interred sons of Atreus. (297)

Nightingale, sing your song and I'll sing along. (298)

Aphrodite, my mind is troubled. I'm still your servant, but Atthis remains a headstrong child. (299)

As when before your light streamed like honey but I was in darkness still. (300)

She is lovely as before, but where now is Hope? (300a)

Aphrodite, do you not love the windlike dances / of beautiful, apple-cheeked Abanthis? (301)

Cyprian, how splendid your altar ablaze in blue, silver and gold. Yet you all the more amazing! (302)

The bride lovely as dawn's unfolding sky, the groom nearly as handsome. (303)

Cyprian, here we come, singing songs and offering libations! (304)

A graceful girl, shy as a fawn and as flighty. (305)

Glorious passions! Passions uproarious! (306)



Sappho, fragment 306a
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

O most revered Queen of Heaven,
Golden Aphrodite!

Blessed above all mortal women,
and blessed by them …

Goddess, come!

Aphrodite, most beautiful,
enter with your train of elegant attendants!

Arise now for me,
honeysweet Aphrodite!

Meet me with greetings holy and divine!

Be mine!

What ecstasies, O my Queen,
shall we revel in at midnight?



THE LONGER POEMS OF SAPPHO

Unfortunately, the only completely intact poem left by Sappho is her "Ode to Aphrodite" or "Hymn to Aphrodite" (an interesting synchronicity since Sappho is best known as a love poet and Aphrodite was the ancient Greek goddess of love). However, "That man is peer of the gods" and the first poem below, variously titled “The Anactoria Poem,” “Helen’s Eidolon” and “Some People Say …” are largely intact. Was Sappho the author of the world's first "make love, not war" poem?



"Some Say"
Sappho, fragment 16
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Warriors on rearing chargers,
columns of infantry,
fleets of warships:
some call these the dark earth's redeeming visions.
But I say—
the one I desire.

Nor am I unique
because she who so vastly surpassed all other mortals in beauty
—Helen—
seduced by Aphrodite, led astray by desire,
departed for distant Troy,
abandoning her celebrated husband,
deserting her parents and child!

Her story reminds me of Anactoria,
who has also departed,
and whose lively dancing and lovely face
I would rather see than all Lydia's horsemen, war-chariots
and columns of infantry parading in flashing armor.



Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To the brightness of Love
not destroying the sight—
sweet, warm noonday sun
lightening things dun:
whence comes the Night?



Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How can I compete with that ****** man
who fancies himself one of the gods,
impressing you with his "eloquence" …
when just the thought of basking in your radiant presence,
of hearing your lovely voice and lively laughter,
sets my heart hammering at my breast?

Hell, when I catch just a quick glimpse of you,
I'm left speechless, tongue-tied,
and immediately a blush like a delicate flame reddens my skin.

Then my vision dims with tears,
my ears ring,
I sweat profusely,
and every muscle twitches or trembles.

When the blood finally settles,
I'm paler and wetter than the limpest grass.

Then, in my exhausted madness,
I'm as dull as the dead.

And yet I must risk all, being bereft without you …



Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To me that boy seems
blessed by the gods
because he sits beside you,
basking in your brilliant presence.

My heart races at the sound of your voice!
Your laughter?—bright water, dislodging pebbles
in a chaotic vortex. I can't catch my breath!
My heart bucks in my ribs. I can't breathe. I can't speak.

My ******* glow with intense heat;
desire's blush-inducing fires redden my flesh.
My ears seem hollow; they ring emptily.
My tongue is broken and cleaves to its roof.

I sweat profusely. I shiver.
Suddenly, I grow pale
and feel only a second short of dying.
And yet I must endure, somehow,

despite my poverty.



Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… at the sight of you,
words fail me …



Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Your voice beguiles me.
Your laughter lifts my heart's wings.
If I listen to you, even for a moment, I am left stunned, speechless.



The following are Sappho's poems for Atthis aka Attis aka Athis …



Sappho, fragment 49
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I loved you, Atthis, long ago …
even when you seemed a graceless child.

2.
I fell in love with you, Atthis, long ago …
You seemed immature to me then, and not all that graceful.

3.
I loved you, little monkey-faced Atthis, long ago …
when you still seemed a graceless child.

4.
I loved you Atthis, long ago,
when my girlhood was a heyday of flowers
and you seemed but an awkward adolescent.



Sappho, fragment 131
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You desert me, Atthis,
as if you find me distasteful,
flitting off to Andromeda …

2.
Atthis, you forsake me
and flit off to Andromeda …



Ode to Anactoria or Ode to Atthis or Ode to Gongyla
Sappho, fragment 94
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

So my Atthis has not returned
and thus, let the truth be said,
I wish I were dead …

"Honestly, I just want to die!"
Atthis sighed,
shedding heartfelt tears,
inconsolably sad
when she
left me.

"How deeply we have loved,
we two,
Sappho!
Oh,
I really don't want to go!"

I answered her tenderly,
"Go as you must
and be happy,
trust-
ing your remembrance of me,
for you know how much
I loved you.

And if you begin to forget,
please try to recall
all
the heavenly emotions we felt
as with many wreathes of violets,
roses and crocuses
you sat beside me
adorning your delicate neck.

Once garlands had been fashioned of many woven flowers,
with much expensive myrrh
we anointed our bodies, like royalty
on soft couches,
then my tender caresses
fulfilled your desire …"



Sappho, fragment 96
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Our beloved Anactoria dwells in distant Sardis, but her thoughts often return to the life we shared together here, when she saw you as a goddess incarnate, robed in splendor, and loved to hear you singing her praises. Now she surpasses all Sardinian women, as, rising at sunset the rosy-fingered moon outshines the surrounding stars, illuminating salt seas and flowering meadows alike. Thus the delicate dew sparkles, the rose revives, and the tender chervil and sweetclover blossom. Now oftentimes when our beloved wanders aimlessly, she is reminded of gentle Atthis; then her heart assaults her tender breast with painful pangs and she cries aloud for us to console her. Truly, we understand the distress she feels, because Night, the many-eared, calls to us from across the dividing sea. But to go there is not easy, nor to rival a goddess in her loveliness.



The following translation is based on an imaginative translation by Willis Barnstone. The source fragment has major gaps.

Sappho, fragment 96
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How can mortal women rival the goddesses in beauty? But you may have come closest of all, or second to only Helen! With much love for you Aphrodite poured nectar from a gold decanter and with gentle hands Persuasion bade you drink. Now at the Geraistos shrine, of all the women dear to me, none compares to you.



Sappho, fragment 92
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

“Sappho, if you don’t leave your room,
I swear I’ll never love you again!
Get out of bed, rise and shine on us,
take off your Chian nightdress,
then, like a lily floating in a pond,
enter your bath. Cleis will bring you
a violet frock and lovely saffron blouse
from your clothes-chest. Then we’ll adorn
you with a bright purple mantle and crown
your hair with flowers. So come, darling,
with your maddening beauty,
while Praxinoa roasts nuts for our breakfast.
The gods have been good to us,
for today we’re heading at last to Mytilene
with you, Sappho, the loveliest of women,
like a mother among daughters.” Dearest
Atthis, those were fine words,
but now you forget everything!



Sappho, fragment 98
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
My mother said that in her youth
a purple ribband
was considered an excellent adornment,
but we were dark
and for blondes with hair brighter than torches
it was better to braid garlands of fresh flowers.

2.
My mother said that in her youth
to bind one's hair in back,
gathered together by a purple plaited circlet,
was considered an excellent adornment,
but for blondes with hair brighter than torches
it was better to braid garlands of fresh flowers,
or more recently, to buy colorful headbands from Sardis
and other Ionian cities.
But for you, my dearest Cleis,
I have no iridescent headband
to match your hair's vitality!



Sappho, fragment 41
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

For you, fair maidens, my mind does not equivocate.



Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with such vigor!

But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers, as you did so graciously before;
O, come Divine One, descend once more
from heaven's golden dominions!

Then, with your chariot yoked to love's
white consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you came gliding from heaven's shining heights,
to this dark gutter.

Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.

Asking me what I sought in my bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should Persuasion
summon here?"

"Although today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, soon she shall give them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"

Come to me now, O most Holy Aphrodite!
Free me now from my heavy heartache and anguish!
Graciously grant me all I request!
Be once again my ally and protector!

"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of ****** to survive in its entirety.



Sappho, fragment 2
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, Cypris, from Crete
to meet me at this holy temple
where a lovely grove of apples awaits our presence
bowering altars
                            fuming with frankincense.

Here brisk waters babble beneath apple branches,
the grounds are overshadowed by roses,
and through their trembling leaves
                                                              deep sleep descends.

Here the horses will nibble flowers
as we gorge on apples
and the breezes blow
                                       honey-sweet with nectar…

Here, Cypris, we will gather up garlands,
pour the nectar gratefully into golden cups
and with gladness
                                 commence our festivities.



The Brothers Poem
by Sappho
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

… but you’re always prattling about Kharaxos
returning with his ship's hold full. As for that,
Zeus and the gods alone know, so why indulge
idle fantasies?

Rather release me, since I am commending
numerous prayers to mighty Queen Hera,
asking that his undamaged ship might safely return
Kharaxos to us.

Then we will have serenity. As for
everything else, leave it to the gods
because calm seas often follow
sudden squalls

and those whose fortunes the gods transform
from unmitigated disaster into joy
have received a greater blessing
than prosperity.

Furthermore, if Larikhos raises his head
from this massive depression, we shall
see him become a man, lift ours and
stand together.



Sappho, fragment 58
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virgins, be zealous for the violet-scented Muses' lovely gifts
and those of melodious lyre …
but my once-supple skin sags now;
my arthritic bones creak;
my ravenblack hair's turned white;
my lighthearted heart's grown heavy;
my knees buckle;
my feet, once fleet as fawns, fail the dance.

I often bemoan my fate … but what's the use?
Not to grow old is, of course, not an option.

I am reminded of Tithonus, adored by Dawn with her arms full of roses,
who, overwhelmed by love, carried him off beyond death's dark dominion.
Handsome for a day, but soon withered with age,
he became an object of pity to his ageless wife.

And yet I still love life's finer things and have been granted brilliance, abundance and beauty.



And now, in closing, these are poems dedicated to the Divine Sappho:



Sappho's Rose
translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The rose is—
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.



Sappho’s Lullaby
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy

Hushed yet melodic, the hills and the valleys
sleep unaware of the nightingale's call
as the dew-laden lilies lie
listening,
glistening …
this is their night, the first night of fall.

Son, tonight, a woman awaits you;
she is more vibrant, more lovely than spring.
She'll meet you in moonlight,
soft and warm,
all alone …
then you'll know why the nightingale sings.

Just yesterday the stars were afire;
then how desire flashed through my veins!
But now I am older;
night has come,
I’m alone …
for you I will sing as the nightingale sings.

Keywords/Tags: Sappho, ******, Greek, translation, epigram, epigrams, love, ***, desire, passion, lust

No rainbow can be more colourful than her words
No portrait can be more beautiful than her face
No song can be more beautiful than her voice
No sculpture can be more perfect than her entirety
No galaxy can be larger than her heart

The sun brings light to day
And the moon radiates the night
Whilst she illuminates my life

Some describe their beloved as beautiful
I describe beauty by the name of my beloved
Some say their beloved is perfect
I say perfection is my beloved

I heard them say their beloved's smile twinkles like the stars
I say the stars twinkle as brightly as her smile
They say their beloved is as radiant as a gem
I say a gem is as radiant as my beloved

Many say praise is an exaggeration of one's excellence
I say praise is a belittlement of her excellence

Dearly Beloved we gather here today,
Not to celebrate a lovely matrimony,
But to celebrate loss,
A death that touches us every day,
And will do so for the rest of our lives.

Dearly Beloved we mustn't cry,
Not shed a single tear,
We can't nor should we.

Dearly Beloved the death amugst us,
The death I speak of is the death of love,
The death of compassion and kindness,
The death of good all riped from the world far too soon.
Now that it's gone we are left with no emothion,
Left to our sociopathic tendencies,
Left to ourselves,
Left hoping one day these people,
Love, comapsion, kindness and everything good,
Hoping that they will return to make us better again,
So Dearly Beloved I leave you with this,
The tool to bring them all back from the dead,

It's but a smile they said and looked around.
But someday the Dearly Beloved may understand,
It's the small things on a big scale that makes the world good and that's disappearing.