I shall never get out of this!  There are two of me now:
This new absolutely white person and the old yellow one,
And the white person is certainly the superior one.
She doesn't need food, she is one of the real saints.
At the beginning I hated her, she had no personality --
She lay in bed with me like a dead body
And I was scared, because she was shaped just the way I was

Only much whiter and unbreakable and with no complaints.
I couldn't sleep for a week, she was so cold.
I blamed her for everything, but she didn't answer.
I couldn't understand her stupid behavior!
When I hit her she held still, like a true pacifist.
Then I realized what she wanted was for me to love her:
She began to warm up, and I saw her advantages.

Without me, she wouldn't exist, so of course she was grateful.
I gave her a soul, I bloomed out of her as a rose
Blooms out of a vase of not very valuable porcelain,
And it was I who attracted everybody's attention,
Not her whiteness and beauty, as I had at first supposed.
I patronized her a little, and she lapped it up --
You could tell almost at once she had a slave mentality.

I didn't mind her waiting on me, and she adored it.
In the morning she woke me early, reflecting the sun
From her amazingly white torso, and I couldn't help but notice
Her tidiness and her calmness and her patience:
She humored my weakness like the best of nurses,
Holding my bones in place so they would mend properly.
In time our relationship grew more intense.

She stopped fitting me so closely and seemed offish.
I felt her criticizing me in spite of herself,
As if my habits offended her in some way.
She let in the drafts and became more and more absent-minded.
And my skin itched and flaked away in soft pieces
Simply because she looked after me so badly.
Then I saw what the trouble was:  she thought she was immortal.

She wanted to leave me, she thought she was superior,
And I'd been keeping her in the dark, and she was resentful --
Wasting her days waiting on a half-corpse!
And secretly she began to hope I'd die.
Then she could cover my mouth and eyes, cover me entirely,
And wear my painted face the way a mummy-case
Wears the face of a pharaoh, though it's made of mud and water.

I wasn't in any position to get rid of her.
She'd supported me for so long I was quite limp --
I had forgotten how to walk or sit,
So I was careful not to upset her in any way
Or brag ahead of time how I'd avenge myself.
Living with her was like living with my own coffin:
Yet I still depended on her, though I did it regretfully.

I used to think we might make a go of it together --
After all, it was a kind of marriage, being so close.
Now I see it must be one or the other of us.
She may be a saint, and I may be ugly and hairy,
But she'll soon find out that that doesn't matter a bit.
I'm collecting my strength; one day I shall manage without her,
And she'll perish with emptiness then, and begin to miss me.

In the faraway land,
trees smiling and nails
Not the escargot snails
Booming business sails
His name Rusty nails
Super rich paper shredding
Destroying fine print
paper and nails affair

Those hot leads faxing
The heart opens up than bleeds
What a mess misleads to
More hoarders
Trying so hard to get
over the U-S-A border
When you least expect it
Being searched papercut body

Like Honey Bee without
Hair like a beehive
foxy lady
No Jive rock paper scissors
Twisted sisters also drying up
All lines and spot
like a dark romance
Cheetah
Not the Samson and
Deliah race
Millionairess place
Became a swamp
Forest of racers
Super moon Gump
Lady and the *****
I am Instagram Disney Pixstar
Getting looks by far
Superwomen nailed her
With Starwars
European fellows

Soft clouds daze-like fun yellow
Emotionally their crying
Broken one scattered piece
of glass, please I see something
to smile about
Super rich why do they get
the VIP pass laughing
He's the roundabout
Someone with love handles
Can we handle all this
Getting drinks and hot lady
winks hit or miss
Racing their motorcycles
Dark glove handles
What Harley Davidson cycles
Is that your best reaction trying
Mirror my mirror on the wall
I am not buying it super
rich mechanic
The only one chosen mirror
She feels ******
Love can give you tumors
Dissect you who will direct you
You don't feel this is your time
The sunny side of the street
Sunnyside eggs over easy

The Speakeasy
Your hair of ringlets **** wavy
Did he nail your darker side beat
Bird up your nest feeders heat
Don't break me up to fall
The phone rings dingaling
Spiritual candles witch is dead
Your mind is somewhere else
instead
Just make your silk ties of the bed
Tied to your ankle I love you
How your hearts just dangle
"Having a nail full because you're single"
Were all linked into something
Yodeling, not the business
of smuggling
Knocking on heavens door
Super rich marble black and white floor
Hammering nails in the cabin
He's fishing the hooks how it fits together
hugging
Going up the staircase to heaven
What a big cliff-hanging nail diver

Zippety Zepellin*
Songs whole lotta love
How you've been nailed in
the blackout
Not a piece blackout cake
Canarsie at the pier
Out of nails, the darkness hits me
Bend over nails like the devil more rivals
Never to be resentful
Always pray to be needful
Her face value of her smile
Being poor her soul
stepped on

Too many men, not enough nails
But they got their thrills
New York City construction
worker
He's wiped out being hammered
nails hot drills
Such poorly written emails

Her heels got stuck
No stars to shine *Rusty bar
Starbucks

Her mind was a
bulletproof vest  
"Jane and *****"
"Plain Janes" movie cut
Of paper dolls
Being Nailed Bunny hunt
of tricks
But all weapons he nailed her the best*

Blood stem thorns
Italian love horns
Robin Redbreast tweet text
What holds us together
French **** nails
Fountain of golden coins

Lion heads or tails the door
Back to spam ham of emails
Super rich we may never be
But New York will always
be my kind of town
He nailed it so
many times

New Yorker super rich talker
Like a perilous time super
rich food delicious
Pygmalion how we nail our nation

Unfortunately I'm coming to understand
How much we suffocated each other
Don't worry, I'm not resentful.
But you know me,
I pay my part
And leave things to that
And when the pain is durable
I put the past to bed very fast

But now I see my hands
Tied as they have been
Paint pictures,
Like they're coming off a conveyor.
I know you never understood
Why I stopped drawing
The thing is that
I didn't love myself enough
To think my art was good enough
And you might like to know
I can almost feel the camera
In my hands

And now I feel my voice chords
As I hear my voice echo
Harmoniously through this space
I took what is mine
And let it out again
Do you remember how you said
"I'm just waiting for you to sing"
Well I'm singing now
With joy in my heart

And you...
Well I know this was not what you wanted
But look at you
You've made this home
In to a new version of you
You've started taking care
Of yourself again
This is what loving yourself
Does to you.

I know deep down
You're staring to feel
Life flowing through
Your vains again.
Go live.
I'm not resentful. :)

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.

I know we've never been "together."
I know you said to move on.
I tried to be fine with wading this weather,
But the love in my heart still tells me it's wrong.

Now, I'm not saying I'm resentful,
But you did treat me like I was special.
Lately has been so uneventful.
And I'm starting to think this isn't a game...

I get a little jealous when you look at other girls.
I know we're not together, but... You are my whole world.
I get a little jealous when you talk about them too.
It's because we're not together, but...
You told me that you liked me... You told me that you do.

Now, I'm not trying to be weird, but call me, I'd give you my time.
Actually, I'd give you everything, cuz I just want you to be mine.
When I got too lonely, I'd just stare at your photos--
Soundless replacements for you, who knows.

You said I'm obsessive—come on now, don't play.
You like it when I'm open, you preferred me this way.
You said we'd be great together, don't think I forgot.
I cherish every sweet thing you said, so my heart doesn't rot.

Now I've deleted all of your things, cuz I can't bear to see your face.
My prized possessions... I should've given you space.
Why wouldn't you make me yours, like you wanted to?
Now we're apart, now we'll both just be blue.
And now I regret this—now I really do.
True, I'm a little weird, but we're both crazy.
I know what you're afraid of; I know it isn't me.

It was the summer of 1954. David Ito was from the only Japanese family we had in our town. I was glad he was my best friend. Actually, he was my only friend. His father moved his family to our small town of Prichard, Illinois when David was only eight years old. That was three years ago.

Only two and a half months apart, I was the older one of our daring duo. I even was a couple inches taller than David was, so that settled it. In spite of being an awkward girl, our differences in age and height made me quite superior at times, although David always snickered at that notion. To me, theses differences were huge and monumental, like the distance of the sun from the moon. To David, that was typical girlish nonsense. He thought it was so like a girl, to try to outdo a boy.  And he should have known. He was the only son of five children, and he was the oldest.

At first, David was not interested in being friends with a girl. But I was Josephine Dunn, Josie they called me, and I was not just any girl. Yet, like David, I did not know if I really liked him enough to be his friend. We started off with this one thing in common.

I knew he was smarter than anybody I ever knew, that is except for my father, a self-taught man. The tomboy that I was, I was not so interested in books and maps, and David was almost obsessed with them. Yet, there was a kindred spirit that ignited us to become close, something coming in between two misfits to make a good match. David was obviously so different from the rest. He came from an entirely different culture, looking so out-of-the-ordinary than the typical face of our Anglo-Saxon, Protestant community, and me, never really fitting in with any group of peers in school, I liked him.

David knew he did not fully fit in. I surely did not fit, either. My brother, Carl, made sure very early on in my life that I was to be aware of one thing. And that one thing was that I did not belong in my family, or really anywhere in life. Mostly, this was because I was not of my father’s first family, but I came after my father’s other children and was the baby, the apple of my father’s eye. But that wasn’t the real reason why Carl hated me.

During World War Two, my father enlisted in the army. He already had two small sons and a daughter to look after, and they already had suffered one major blow in their young lives. They had lost their mother to cancer. Louise Dunn was an important figure in their lives. She was well liked in town and very much missed by her family and friends.
  
Why their father wanted to leave his children behind, possibly fatherless, made no sense to other people. But Jim Dunn came from a proud military family and would not listen to anyone telling him not to fight but rather to stay home with his children. His father fought in the First World War, and three of his great grandfathers fought for the Union Army in the Civil War. It was not like my father to back out of a fight, not one with great principles.  My father was no coward.

Not only did my father leave three small children back home, but a new, young wife. Two years before World War Two ended, he made it back home to his lovely, young wife and family. Back in France, my father was wounded in his right leg. The result of the wound caused my father to forever walk with a limp and the assistance of a cane. It was actually a blessing in disguise what would transpire. He could have easily came home in a pine box. He was thankful, though, that he came away with his life. After recovering for a few months in a French hospital, my father was eager to go home to his family. At least he was able to walk, and to walk away alive.

This lovely, young woman who was waiting for him at home was twenty-year-old Flora Laurent, now Flora Dunn, my mother, and she was eleven years younger than my father. All soldiers were certainly eager to get home to their loved ones. My father was one of thousands who was thrilled to be back on American soil, but his thrill was about to dampen. Once my father laid eyes on his wife again, there was no hiding her highly expanding belly and the overall weight gain showed in her lovely, plump face. She had no excuses for her husband, or any made-up stories to tell him, and there really nothing for her to say to explain why she was in this condition. Simply put, she was lonely.

Most men would have left such a situation, would have gone as far away from it as they possibly could have. Being too ashamed and resentful to stay, they would have washed their hands of her in a heartbeat. Having a cheating wife and an unwanted child on their hands to raise would be too much to bear. Any man, in his right mind, would say that was asking for way too much trouble.  Most men would have divorced someone like my mother, kicked her out, and especially they would hate the child she would be soon be giving birth to, but not my father. He always stood against the grain.

Not only did Jim Dunn forgive his young wife, he took me under his wing like I was his very own. Once I knew he was not my true father, I could never fully fathom why he was not ready to pack me off to an orphanage or dump me off somewhere far away. Why he was so forgiving and accepting made him more than a war hero. It made him my hero. That was why I loved him so much, especially because, soon after I was born, my mother was out of our lives. Perhaps, such a young woman should not be raising three step children and a newborn baby.

My father never mentioned any of the details of my conception, but he simply did his best to love me. He was a tall, very slim and a quiet man by nature. With light brown hair, grey eyes, and a kind face, he looked every bit of the hero I saw him as. He was willing to help anyone in a pinch, and most people who knew him respected him. Nobody in town ever talked about this situation to my father. To begin with, my father was not a talker, and he probably thought if he did talk about it, the pain and shame of it would not go away.

One of my brothers, Nathan, and my sister, Ann, seemed to treat me like a regular sister. Yet, Carl, the oldest child, hated me from the start. As a girl who was six years younger, I never understood why. He was the golden boy, with keen blue eyes and golden, wavy hair, as were Nathan and Ann.  I had long, dark brown hair, which I kept in two braids, with plenty of unsightly brown freckles, and very dark, brown eyes.  Compared to my sister, who was five years older, I never felt like I was a great beauty.

I was pretty young when Carl blurted out to me in anger, “Your mother is a *****!”  I cried a bit, wiped away the tears with my small hands and yelled back, “No, she isn’t!” Of course, I was too young to know what that word meant. When my brother followed that statement up with, “and you are a *******”, I ran straight to my father. I was almost seven years old.

My father scolded Carl pretty badly that day. Carl would not speak to me for months, and that was fine with me. That evening my father sat me upon my knee. “Daddy, what is a *****?” I asked him.

My father gently put his fingers up to my lips to shush me up. He then went into his wallet and showed me a weathered black-and-white photo he had of himself with his arms around my mother. It was in that wallet for some time, and he pulled out the wrinkled thing and placed it in front of me.

My father must have handled that picture a thousand times. Even with all the bad quality, with the wrinkles, I could see a lovely, young lady, with light eyes and dark hair, smiling as she was in the arms of her protector. My father looked proud in the photograph.

He said to me, his expression serious, “whatever Carl or anybody says about your mother, she will always be your mother and I love her for that”. I looked earnestly in his somber, grey eyes. “Why did she go away?” I asked him.

My father thought long and hard about how to answer me. He replied, “I don’t know. She was young and had more dreams in her than this town could hold for her”. He smiled awkwardly and added, “But at least she left me the best gift I could have—you.”  

I would never forget the warmth I felt with my father during that conversation. Certainly, I would never forget Carl’s cruel words, or sometimes the odd glances on the faces of townswomen, like they were studying me, comparing me to how I looked next to my father, or their whispers as the whole family would be out in town for an occasion. It did not happen every day, but this would happen whenever and wherever, when a couple of busybodies would pass me and my father walking down Main Street, or when we went into the ice cream parlor, or when I went with my father to the dime store, and it always made me feel very strange and vaguely sad, like I had no real reason to be sad but was anyway.


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That summer of 1954, I was a bit older, maybe a bit wiser than when Carl first insulted my estranged mother. I was eleven years old, and David was my equal, my sidekick. Feeling less like a kid, I tried not to boss him too much, and he tried not to be too smart in front of me. I held my own, though, had my own intelligence, but my smarts were more like street smarts. After all, I had Carl to deal with.

David seemed destined for something better in life. My life seemed like it would always be the same, like my feet were planted in heavy mud. David and I would talk about the places we would loved go to, but David would mark them on a map and track them out like his plans would really come to fruition. I never liked to dream that big. Sure, I would love to go somewhere exciting, somewhere where I’d never have to see Carl again, or some of the kids at school, but I knew why I had a reason to stay. I respected my father. That is why I did not wish to leave. And David respected his father. That is why he knew he had to leave.

David Ito’s father was a tailor. David’s parents came from Japan, and they hoped for a good life in their new country. Little did they know what would be in store for them. After the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor, their lives, with many other Japanese Americans, were soon turned upside down. David was born in an internment camp designed to isolate Japanese people from the nation once Americans declared war on Germany and their allies. David and I were both born in 1943, and since the war ended two years later, David had no memories of the internment camp experience. Even so, David was impacted by it, because the memories haunted his parents.

There was no getting around it. David and I, as different as we were, liked each other. Still, neither he nor I felt any silly kind of puppy love attraction. David had still thought of girls as mushy and silly, and that is why he liked me. I was not mushy or silly, and I could shoot a sling shot better than he did. David loved the sling shot his parents bought him for his last birthday. They allowed him to have it just as long as he never shot it at anyone.

David Ito, being the oldest child in his family, and the only son, allowed him to feel quite special, a very prized boy for just that reason. Mr. Ito worked two jobs to support his family, and Mrs. Ito took in laundry and cooked for the locals who could not cook their own meals. Mrs. Ito was an excellent cook. Whatever they had to give their children, David was first in line to receive it.

The majority of those in my town of Prichard respected Mr. Ito, at least those who did business with him. He was not only able to get good tailoring business in town, but some of the neighboring towns gave him a bit of work, too. When he was not working in the textile factory, Mr. Ito was busy with his measuring tape and sewing machine.  

Even though Mr. Ito gained the respect of the townspeople, he still was not one of us. I am sure he knew it, too. Yet Mr. Ito lived in America most of his life. He was only nine-years-old when his parents came here with their children. Like David, Mr. Ito certainly knew he was Japanese. The mirror told him that every day. But he also knew felt an internal tug-of war that America was his country more than Japan was, even when he was proud of his roots, even though he was once locked up in that camp, and even when some people felt that he did not belong here.

If David was called an unkind name, I felt it insulted, too, for our friendship meant that much to me. How many times I got in trouble for fighting at school! My father would be called into the principal’s office, and I was asked by Mr. Murray to explain why I would act in such an undignified way. “They called David a ***** ***”, I exclaimed. “David is my friend!”

Because David and I were best buddies, we heard lots of jeering remarks. “Josie loves a ***! Josie loves a ***!” some of the children taunted. And Carl, with his meanness, loved to be head of the line to pick on us. He once said to me, “It figures that the only friend you can get is a scrawny ***!”

In spite of my troubles at school, Father greatly admired David and his father, and he thought that David and I were good for each other’s company. Mr. Ito greatly respected my father, in return, not only for his business but because my dad could fix any car with just about any problem. Jim Dunn was not only a brilliant man, in my eyes, but the best mechanic in town. When Mr. Ito needed work done on his car, my father was right there for him. It was an even exchange of paid work and admiration.

Both my father and David’s father felt our relationship was harmless. After all, everyone in David’s family knew and expected that he would marry a nice Japanese girl. There was no question about it. Where he would find one was not too important for a boy of his age. Neither of us experienced puberty yet and, under the watchful eye of my father, we would just be the best of buddies.

David pretended like the remarks said about him never bothered him, but I knew differently. I knew he hated Carl, and we avoided him as much as possible. David was nothing like me in this respect—he was not a fighter. Truly, he did not have a fighting bone in his body, not one that picked up a sword to stab it in the heart of someone else. It was not that David was not brave, for he was, but he knew the ugliness of war without ever even having to go to battle. Nevertheless, he used his intellect to fight off any of the racist remarks made about him or his family. He had to face it—the war had only ended nine years prior and a few of the war veterans in town fought in the Pacific.      

Because of the taunts David had experienced in school, I was not surprised what David’s father had in store for his beloved son.  Mr. Ito could barely afford to send one child to private school, but he was about to send one. David was about to be that child. When David told me that when school resumed he would be going to a boy’s school in Chicago, my heart sank. Why? Why did he have to go? I would never see him again!

“You will see me in the summer”, he reassured me. He looked at me as I tried to appear brave. I sat cross-legged on the grass and stared straight ahead like I never even heard him. I had a lump in my throat the size of a grapefruit, and my lips felt like they were quivering.

We were both using old pop bottles for target practice. They sat in a row on an old tree stump shining in the evening sun. David was shooting at them with his prized slingshot. I had a makeshift one that I created out of a tree branch and a rubber band.

“You won’t even remember me”, I complained.

“I will to”, he insisted. “I remember everything.”

“Oh, sure you will”, I said sarcastically. “You’ll be super duper smart and I will just be a dummy”. In anger, I rose up my slingshot, and I hit all three bottles, one by one, then I threw the slingshot to the ground. David missed all the shots he took earlier.

David threw his slingshot down, too. “For being a girl, you are pretty smart!” he shouted. “You are too smart for your own good! The reason I like you is because you are better than anyone I ever met in my entire life. Well…not better than my parents, but you are the neatest girl I ever knew in my life!”

For a while, we didn’t talk. We just sat there and let the warm, summer breeze do our talking for us. I pulle

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

To my son.
This is me, apologizing.....
I apologize for all the bumps in the road. For the nights when I stayed up rocking you unsure of where we would sleep tomorrow.
I apologize that your daddy couldn't be there for your birth, he was there with me until I left for the hospital. Know that he is a good man who got caught up in the wrong woman.
I apologize for all of the times I lost my temper, I never wanted to be a screaming parent and I hope that when you read this you look back and think "but you rarely yelled".
I apologize for never feeling that I was a good mother, I hope that the way I felt about myself never affected your views of self worth.
Lastly I apologize for being just a kid myself trying to raise a better child, if I ever make you feel disappointed, disrespected, angry, or resentful I apologize. I love you with everything that I have... I am trying little bug.... Mommy is trying.

The waves are silent. The waves
don't move. Nobody wants to be here
and nobody wants to leave.

There's a man trapped
under his house with an alligator.
His wife does the thin space walk:
an olive, a cherry, and an onion.

She'd sensed his gaze and took off
her dressing gown. She asked if he thought
her bottom was too big, her mind too small.
He said a faded, faulted no.

He's stupid, but he'll catch on
sooner or later. He once saw a ray in her,
but she fell out of orbit. Waxing and waning.

She's got to be careful, after
the sleeping pills and gas. She knows
it's Wednesday because she
took her last pill on Tuesday.

Allowing the world she so painstakingly
built up to ignite and burn apart
in front of both their eyes.

I see the scars on your arms,
And I am resentful.
Resentful that they are not mine.
Resentful that I couldn't stop you.

What's mine is yours,
And what's your is mine.
Including the pain.
But I couldn't stop you.

I left you alone.
In my drunkenness,
I left you alone.
And I couldn't stop you.

My words and worries are useless.
Only the pain you feel brings you back.
I am useless.
Because I couldn't stop you.

I see them and I resent them.
I wish that could be my arm.
My pain.
But I couldn't stop you.

For I was too far gone.
I was too busy stealing my pain,
To recognize yours.
And I couldn't stop you.

I'm sorry...

In a wayward adventure in curiosity —
lured away from savvy of cooler judgment,  
he oversteps the bounds of reality 
into a state of altered awareness.

Overwhelmed by a rapid beginning
of a buzzing sensation — The Rush;
emanating from deep inside him, 
surging along the veins streaming 

euphoria through cells of his entire body:  
inside the body, with warm pleasure waves
flushing over the by now tingling skin
soughing off all unpleasant feelings.

Mouth numbed, limbs heavy, and eyeballs 
rolling back from hitherto an unimaginable
state of bliss, he savours the calm explosions
of the pulsating bubbles in his head.

A magical moment of sheer ******* 
rapture—that ends in a lasting sedation—
during which he's dazed with wonderment
while covered by a cozy blanket of content.

He falls in love with the insidious drug.
And he begins to relish its sweet fruition
in a seemly pattern of use that is put
in the shade to protect his best interests.

A stake in normalcy that seeks to confine
his usage of the opioid to a social occasion.
But soon enough he drifts towards a regular
recreational use; indulging on weekends,

floating, flying, and soaring in wonderful
ripples of pure delight, feeling very mellow
and satisfied, in an illusionary paradise of
forgetfulness where nothing hurts any more.

Bit by bit as time goes by his body builds up
a tolerance for the sedative, prompting his
intake of higher and more frequent doses
to feel as well as to sustain the desired effect.

This occurs because his body attempts to
adapt to the presence of the drug by quickly
breaking it up and purging it out of the system,
thus making it less potent as it was before.

At this stage of his drug abuse he's still able to
control whether to use the stuff or not, where
and when to use it, without stress. He could
also abstain from the opioid fairly responsibly.

But at the limits of his body's flexible response
to the dangerous substance, he begins to suffer
from its unpleasant side-effects that show up
a short period of time following his last use.

The pleasurable, but short-term, therapeutic
effects of the hard drug are now being
overshadowed by several of its undesirable
withdrawal symptoms that manifest as:

fatigue, irritability, cold chills/sweat, itchy skin,
muscle spasms and tremors, body ache, and
stomach cramps among others, with an
increase in his body's cravings for the opioid.

The onset of these torturous side-effects of
the stimulant marks the beginning of his body's
physical dependence on it, as he now relies
on the drug to fend off the terrible affliction.

He has bitten at the bait of pleasure oblivious
of the hook beneath it. The once casual user,
who had thought he could quit the habit at will
without stress, has advanced to problematic use.

The drug has become an integral part of a daily
routine that is gradually heading towards chaos.
Regardless, he's still able to go to work and
take care of his day to day responsibilities.

In time, a new sickness begins to fester inside
him: the opioid is tightening its grip on him,
as his body's physical dependence on it
is now generating his addiction to the drug.

This psychological dependence on the drug
has set in with anxiety disorder accompanied
by emotional and behavioural problems:
the duo classic signs of a progressive disorder.

The drug has become something he needs
to sleep or to fully wake up. His sleeping
pattern has also been altered; up at night
and intermittently dozing off during the day.

As dosage of the narcotic rises, so does
the torture of the painful lows and other
symptoms of addiction, making his cravings
for the sedative increasely more intense.

As it is, he's needs several hits of the drug to
make it through the day. All at once he wants
to use! He begins to look forward to using.
He would ingest the drug in risky situations

such as, while at the wheels of his car or
working at his job; always desperate to avoid
withdrawal symptoms as well as to revel in
the bliss of the drug's comforting warmth.

At times he'd skip work 'chasing the dragon':
pursuing the out-of-reach elation levels of
his initial euphoric high, swinging between
feelings of mediocrity and that of ecstasy.

Always, his body would afterwards crash
below baseline, barely able to cater for his
daily needs. The habit has long ceased
to be the fun that it was intended to be.

Like a vicious cycle the relief from the opioid,
which is not justified by external reality,
is being obtained at the cost of the
worsening addiction and a spike in distress

whenever his body is low on the drug.
The more he indulges on the sedative
to calm his racing mind, the more
its comfort zone seems to be desired.

Disoriented in the rigours of his vice,
he strays in the abyss of drug addiction:
a dark, weary place where priority disorder 
is dictated by events outside of his control.

It is this corrupted impulse control that
causes his sick obsession with the narcotic,
rendering him unfit to articulate rational
thoughts: a chronic brain disorder.

In this harmful shift away from reality,  
utmost in his mind is the insidious drug:
over and above his job, his goals, family,
love, friends, hobbies and personal hygiene.

Oddly enough the foremost essentials of life
like water, food, and sleep are also not spared.
He could be ill and he won't care.
No other thoughts can cohabit in his world.

Emotionally invested in his fantasy world,
the toxic substance has kindled in him
an inner turmoil — setting off an overriding
feeling of emptiness that aches in his heart.

The habit much harder to lose than it was
to find: an ongoing effort to wean himself off
the drug is being crushed by a dysphoric mood
and a sickly feeling that intensify in severity.

These horrifying withdrawal symptoms
are a result of the sedative's induced
alterations in the biochemistry of his
brain's system of reward and punishment.

Instead of a mild, blissful flow of the brain's
happy hormones, as is experienced while
one is indulging in a tasty food, on receiving
a great news, or while engaged in any other

kinds of novelty that fill us with a delicious
pleasure, the opioid whose chemical structure
is similar to that of the natural chemical
messengers of the brain, Happy Hormones,

by mimicking these primary drivers of the
brain's reward system the psychoactive 
drug sends a false signal of euphoria to
the complex *****, triggering an instant

and fast secretion of an abnormally large
amount of the 'feel-good hormones', that
begin to surge along its pleasure pathways
overwhelming the reward centre of the brain.

It is this huge outpouring of happy hormones
in the region that elicites in him a sudden
burst of energy, a pleasant state of mild
drowsiness, mental alertness, relaxation, ...

This already intense, euphoric effect of the
opioid is further amplified by the drug's
blocking of the pain partways of the reward
system, thus dulling his emotions and worries

by eliminating any feeling of sorrow, regret,
guilt, fear, or loneliness. Upon intake of the
mood-altering drug, he would feel warm when
cold, calm when angry, bright when grumpy,

filled when hungry and happy when irritable,
with almost a total refrain from the tendency
to view anything in bad light. This dramatic
result makes every normal thing look better

and brings forth a deep sense of satisfaction
as though all his needs have been met.
However, this almost perfectly desirable 
body and mind experience is an artificial

feeling that only lasts a few hours at most.
When the drug's effects wear off, because
the brain, which has come to rely on the steady
supply of happy hormones, cannot adjust

all at once, it gets stuck in overdrive which
results in the withdrawal symptoms. It is so
because his brain, whose system of reward
and punishment has been tampered with,

seeks to counteract and accomodate for
the sweet thrills of the drug's euphoric high,
by secreting much less happy hormones while
the foodgate of pain hormones is thrown open.

Just like a huge surge of happy hormones
elicits unnatural levels of euphorical pleasure,
a spike in flow of pain hormones produce
in him the torturous withdrawal symptoms.

These unwanted side-effects whose rise and
fall are subject to drug levels in the system,
is the debt he has to pay for the supreme
bliss that is relished during his opioid highs.

It is all about his brain seeking to maintain
Homeostasis: a normal, healthy body function.
Once he's able to amerce with penance due,
he'll feel good again with no need for the drug.

Another flip side of the illicit habit is that over
time, the regular surge in happy hormones
disrupts the resilience of the reward region
of the brain, causing physical changes that

have drastically reduced his brain's ability
to produce the 'pleasure juices', or respond
to any stimulus other than the one being
triggered by the psychoactive substance.

This is clearly seen in his lost of interest in
activities that he once enjoyed, since his brain
suffers from lack of happy hormones which
influence one's capacity to be in a good mood.

Because the narcotic has also disrupted
activities in the control region of the brain,
his whole thought pattern, perspective and
behaviour, all radically change along with it.

It is this reprogramming of his brain that has
altered the interior reality of his mind, in ways
that result in him going into 'survival mode'
in the absence of the drug during a withdrawal.

While in this irritable, aggressive and erratic
state, he would forego anything and everything
to obtain the narcotic because he's thinking
of his drug use the same way an individual 

who is parched with thirst thinks of water.
This desperation in seeking out the drug as
a vital lifeline is due to his compromised brain
'thinking' it needs it as a matter of survival.

A habit he had maintained at the outset
because it made him feel extremely good
has tuned against him, quite often, coercing
him to use for the avoidance of pain.

The sedative as dear and painful to him
as an imbecilic child is to its mother,  
he continues on the foreboding route 
for which he has no power of deviation.

Despairing in the clutches of addiction,
the drugs traumatize him, they infuse
toxins into his spine, and he wouldn't
know whether he's coming or going.

He's kept on saying to himself, 'I'm going
to quit for good after using one last time.'
But that remains to be seen as the drug
goes on dulling his inner light day by day.

In a downward spiral that stuns those 
acquainted with him, he loses his job,
his car is repoed, and he's evicted from
a nice home that had been stripped bare.

Drowning in unpaid bills and desperately
in debt having blown an entire life-savings
on the drug, the loss of everything and a few
remaining friends leaves him fatally devastated.

The dangerous drug has evoked a negative
ripple that is felt throughout all that he's
part of. An awful realization that settles in
with cold clarity, eliciting a lurch of dismay

over his dire ignorance about the drug
which has led to the ugly entrapment.
In deep, sorrowful thoughts consumed
with self-loathing he puts a curse upon

the day he first laid eyes on the hard drug.
With the best resolve he's able to muster,
driven by exasperation to kick the habit,
he strives to make his will like stone —

a facade that is soon razed by his urgent need
for the ****** to stave off withdrawal. With a
burden of guilt and shame that can't be faced
he retreats into the haze of his own misery.

With more problems and stresses than ever
he plunges from troubled life to no life,
completely losing touch with reality as the
disorder assumes a more dangerous form.

His fixation on the ****** has taken a turn for
the worst. Besides his strong cravings for it
to ward off withdrawal as well as to experience
its euphoric high again, it has become more

crucial than ever for him to keep his emotions
constantly desensitised to life, by numbing
the agony of living to ease the passage of
day with purchased relief from the sedative.

Locked in this highly destructive pattern
of drug use, he would stop at nothing
to feed the habit: he would cheat, steal,
lie or betray no matter who to get his 'fix'.

Like the spreading of cancer in the body,  
his affliction has metastasized way 
beyond him, chipping away at the sense
of wellbeing of everyone around him.

As frequent and ready targets for theft
his family have to always watch out for him,
in a resentful relations in which they never
could feel at easy with him around their home.

Wallets, jewellery, gadgets, or any other
easy to carry household valuables, that are
not safely locked away, will go missing.
For days at a time he, too, will vanish.

He'd eventually return like the 'prodigal son'.
Always, he's found the door open after
prolonged periods of avoiding home, even
on occasions when he'd been kicked out.

In the many months gone since losing his
source of livelihood, he's been pushed
into a number of rehabilitation facilities,
but as yet has failed to clean up his act.

He's also been in and out of rehab thrice
following hospital discharges for drug
overdose. On the last occasion, he was
found passed out in the family's bathtub.

Timely arrival of the paramedics had saved
his life. Notwithstanding, a nagging urge
to 'use' continues to feed and reinforce
the habit after each discharge from rehab.

It's been most upsetting to the parents
who have had to watch him visibly change
before their eyes: from a good, healthy
son, who had always had his act together,

to as it is, a thin, patchy-skinned loner with
a baffled demeanour — who buries his head
in low self-esteem to conceal the frequent
dilated and glassy pupils from mutual gaze.

Nothing points more to the helplessness 
of the family's plight than having to finally
admit to their little, or no influence, over
the ravages of the stigmatized disorder.

A harrowing experience for a household
whose life-savings, along with compassion
for him, have completely been exhausted
with no more tears remaining to shed.

The hurting family at the end of its tether
confronts him with an ultimatum:
to get his life in order or face the music.
Coldly, they all watch him leave home.

His descent into the final stages of rock-
bottom has been swift. He starts by crashing
on fellow addicts' couches and floors,
but soon his welcome quickly wears out.

Now among the ranks of the homeless the
hobo would wake up feeling sick, and his day
would consist of shoplifting, petty thefts,
begging, and struggling to find others ways

to obtain money in order to feed the habit.
At nights, even on stormy ones, the rough
sleeper would crash wherever there's shelter,
never worrying about waking up the next day.

A hellish existence on the street that has
provoked a string of run-ins with the law. 
Nabbed stealing on ill-fated occasions,
he's manhandled in a most indecent way.

Tired, hungry and sick, the erstwhile ray of
hope, who once had a strong sense of self,
is currently a nervous wreck who envisages
life through the lens of opioid stupor.

Much beyond his ability to ask for help, 
his hurting family proceed to rescue him.
Under the humbling load of drug addiction
he staggers into another rehab facility.

But the often slippery climb to recovery
is never easy. It's yet another chance for him
to submit to a slow and delicate therapy on
his brain, whose structure and functions are

badly impacted by years-long use of the drug.
The healing process is a labour of discipline
and commitment, coupled with patience
in order to allow the brain to adapt back

toward normalcy by gradually regenerating
and rebalancing itself. In a gruelling task he's
expected to learn to care for a body that
now must struggle to work in a different way.

Desiring to put their lives back together many
druggies have been able to crawl their way out
of the murky shadow — a big chunk of them
through the guiding light of structured help.

Amongst them were 'walking corpses' whom
possessed by their 'enough is enough', were
enabled to find the inner fire vitally needed
to rekindle the cold embers of self-image.

There's the fella cast adrift feeling wholly
disconnected from self and the world.
He's mourning the loss of a vital lifeline
that has always helped him cope with life.

He had been through it many times before,
the fatigue, stomach cramps, aches, itchy skin, ...
But, he's in the early stages of withdrawal when
cravings for the narcotic are at their worst.

This initial withdrawal agony is the biggest
hurdle any addict has to overcome in the often
stop-start journey to recovery. If he could
somehow find the courage to suffer through it,

the fierce and ceaseless cravings for the drug
would be considerably reduced, making
them easier for him to deal with. Eventually,
they will dissipate the longer he stays sober.

He's being offered a way out of his captivity,
but he's unable to embrace the opportunity
with open arms because the addiction,
which convinces him the only option available

is to indulge on the drug, is blocking him from
seeing the available escape route. It has shut
off his ability to get up on the inside to face
the seeming overwhelming barriers to sobriety.

Like one in the grip of Stockholm Syndrome,
he has developed a type of trauma bonding
with the treacherous drug: the more it hurts
him, the more his irrational affection for it.

With his consciousness constantly revolving
around the insidious substance, he just
can't imagine a chronic user like him
being sober and happy again without it.

That being the case, he fails to see any point
in struggling to remain sober when in such
times he's beset by an awful illness attended
by a serious depression that is no help.

Regardless of the wreckage of his past,
everything that is dear to him plus the very
essence of life on the line, he's left convinced
that giving up the destructive habit would

mean endless suffering and feeling deprived
for the rest of his already sad existence.
More than any other reasons, he just
won't quit because he's powerless to resist.

In default of any dreams of ever recouping
losses that are manifestly out of reach,
the drug with a firm grip on him serves 
as a buffer to keep his ugly reality at bay.

All that he wants is to return to the 'loving
arms' of the opioid, very much aware that
the feeling of the drug's high now that he's
in pain can be one of the best things ever.

But even so, as tempting as the desire to jump
the healing process may be, he's bitterly
mindful of the horrors of street life that
loom upon him with such frightening aspect.

Savagely trapped with no good choices he
slips into a real fear of relapse. In anguish
withdrawal and cravings plague him daily,
and they won't allow him a moment's peace.

Utterly incapable of rising from the ashes 
to hold it all together—no hope—
nothing to hope for—everything out 
of focus—mind spiraling out of control.

In a fit of extreme anxiety the now rampaging
urge to 'use' prods him, closer and closer,
to the brink of a nervous breakdown. Suddenly,
his need for a 'hit' becomes most vital as.

Sweating profusely and trembling all over
with fear clutching a pilfered smartphone,
forgetful of future suffering the rehab
jumper hurries along the forbidden path.

All alone with the merciless companion: 
nowhere to go and no one to turn to. 
Wretchedly wretched in additive agony
the ****** fades away into nothingness.








AUTHOR'S NOTE


The Abyss Of Drug Addiction is written in 112 non-rhyming quatrains.

The rendition is a poignant story depicting the sad existence of many drug users. The verse uncovers and illuminates, step by step, the different stages of drug addiction and the mental processes of the unable to function drug users.

The paramount aim of the work is to shed some light on the sinister shadow of drug addiction: to unveil to all and sundry, especially teenagers and the youths, the hazards of drug abuse and the vicious downward spiral that can be caused by it. 

Just as the euphoric experience of all kinds of hard drugs differ significantly, so are their withdrawal symptoms. Despite their seeming surface unrelatedness, whichever hard drug it may be, the creation of an illegal and dangerous dependency in users is a common denominator.

[The Rush is described as a feeling very much like a heightened and prolonged ****** ******. A great relieve of tension. It is mostly felt when ****** or any of it's derivatives opioids/opiates is administered intravenously].

In quite a disturbing hyperbole a ****** addict described the drug's EUPHORIC RUSH as follows:
"Take the best (******) ****** you've ever had, multipy it a billion and you're still no where near it... "

tell me you want me
but only for tonight
& if u mean it, then **** me right
satisfy me inside and keep me warm
*** I can get cold, i need ur support
let’s keep this a secret, we’re sippin on sin
enter inside me n caress my skin
look me in the eyes, hand inside my thighs
consume my body, whisper in my ear
tell me you need me, that I’m your dear
but please be gentle, I’m like a rose petal
im scared if you hurt me, I may become resentful

Resenting the light,
from the Olympian,
that warms my wool.

It cowards behind holly,
that grows in the pine grove.
Retreats to shaded cold,
below timber arms.

It is disgusted to the sight,
of white, yellow and orange.
Prefers the blue of night.

As it fades, flows and steeps.
It becomes clear,
pillaged of its white veneer.

Though, it carries forward,
like a grudge that won’t melt away.
Or is it more like love,
ever changing.

Or even as stubborn,
as a cold bedded love.
That brings life to you,
at least once a year.

But, in the end
it recedes.
Into the wood,
from under the holly.

Then waits,
until you’ve almost forgotten.

I tore out the intimate stanzas that my friends had written in my note book
I used it to clean their mess
Jealousy at it's bleakest
Excuses at their best

Angst and nerves filled my head
Most of the time i'm too scared to read what they had written
Most of the time i'm too scared to read what they had said

My notebook is hardly mine any more
Merely scrap pages for my friends thoughts
Their voices are loud and powerful on paper
But I hardly spare the time to listen


**Imagery created by all means
But never correctly interpreted

Luxuria (Lust)

Asmodeus demon of lust
carnal manipulator
****** captor

Castitas (Chastity)

Embracing virtue
honorable wholesomeness
not through one’s weakness

Gula (Gluttony)

The egocentricity
with which the Lord of the flies
upon us relies

Temperantia (Temperance)

practicing restraint
prudence to judge with regard
remaining on guard

Avaritia (Greed)

The Mammon demon
controlling the warmonger
with vows of power.

Caritas (Charity)

Crave unselfishness
give unreserved empathy
love and sympathy

Acedia (Sloth)

Deny grace and God
so evil shall become fact  
when we fail to act

Industria (Diligence)

Fortitude is a must
persistence in conviction
zealous for passion

Ira (Wrath)

In its purest form
presents violence and hate
Satan’s fate

Patientia (Patience)

mercy to haters
receiving the grace to forgive
rewards are massive

Superbia (Pride)

Lucifer’s downfall
for excessive vanity
destroys humility

Humanitas (Kindness)

Sympathy without bias
belief without bitterness
inspire kindness

Invidia (Envy)

resentful passion
an insatiable desire
potent cause of dire

Humilitas (Humility)

think of yourself less
and not think less of yourself
don’t exalt oneself

Days pass, my love, and I'm afraid of t'ese feelings,
Which at first startled and surprised me,
Solidified but threatened me,
Hastened my heartbeat-and lingered stubbornly, at my wit.

I was treading down in my stilettos;
And all, today, had been silent hitherto-
Whenst I but caught about thee;
More charming than the breezy day itself, and more free.

Ah, thee! How I longest to silence thee forever,
Thee to whom delights my shelter;
Thee to whom every lie shalt be truth,
and to whom all dreary ages shalt be youth.

How I longest to ****** thee;
to strangle and behead thee,
so that thou shalt no more haunt me-
just like these feelings that twitch, and dazzle me-
forever and ever; like a bewitching, yet sadistic misery.

Shalt I hate them, my love?
Shalt I depict but mock all them?
Ah, tease me-o, tease me, my love!
Catch me about those rippling grass,
Which like a bucket of green water,
Bloom and flirt with the startled bush in mass,
before autumn greets, and their brightness shalt alter.

Alter to falseness, and die in paleness;
Before they scramble up again in vain,
And retreat to my dreams like a dizzy villain;
In a wail of discord, and its lake of cold madness.

Ah! They hate me! And whenst thou seest not,
They seethe at me, they floweth in my brain;
they corrupt me vilely, and ruineth my restraint;
And my loving heart shalt they never defend,
for instead of hate, they grant it love;
and tempt it to kiss-t'is tiny heirloom of mine-
of thy picture, all repeatedly; over and over again.

Ah, thee, to whom my heart shalt only be a burden;
to whom the bleakest of winds only bounces, and goes;
to whom that this earth seems to have no throes-
Just like all those ****** birds who chirp about in yon garden.

Oh, thee, who looketh pristine in whichever garment,
and looketh still a darling atop whatever mute soil,
but safely comeliest amongst t'is Thursday night's infallible moonlight;
and altogether stirring to every glance-whilst inviting to each lurking sight.

Ah, thee, whose heart still, that lucky lady possesses,
and whose smiles she salutes and gladly welcomes;
I wonder whether thou shalt ever know how my heart is obsessed-
and that how thy love for her is my karma, my devil,
and the most undesirable-yet resentful, total sham!
Oh, for the gracious is ungracious indeed, in her eyes,
and peace is but to her a mere tempest of fights;
for to her, immortal are her shallow rights,
And eternal are her breaths, and thus, her tidiest lies.
I hope she shalt be soon swallowed into this earth,
and bludgeoned to death, within its eternal, whining hearth.
She shalt be sent to Hell, for all her discordant sins,
poor creature, as poor she was, whenst alive-to her kin.
But still poorer, poorer me who adoreth thee like this,
Who forever longs to taste thy sweet breaths-and kisses,
I am like an infant who seeks to walk and drink of the stars;
Without knowing the sky is indeed boundless, and strenuously far.
I am who never grows, but stupidly screams, and urges for the most
I, myself, who shall always be strangely desolate, and lost.
Ah, t'is poor self of mine! For canst I only dreamest, and seekest, and whine
Whilst her hair is in thy arms, smelling like sweet-and dreamless sleep,
Buried deep in thy charms, with her heart engaged in thine,
And unawakened by the night, as to one delight so deep.
I am envious, envious, envious-and for thy know, t'is envy is perilous,
and should I die, my spirit wouldst remain awake, and forever curious.
I shalt be wand'ring voicelessly like a fishy ghost,
Be unseen foliage in autumn, and be winter's plodded frost,
I shalt be confined in my own confinement,
and flustered away, in my own unblessed, refinement.

Yet still, nothing is more stately than my feelings;
and this picture of thee-ah, as always, solemn and so honoured in my arms.
Ah, thee, let me invite thee here-and show thee how tears are in fact, the truest charms;
and how pains are undeniably our breath-though faked, and dried away-
by unceremonious adoration and hate-
but still alive like we are, among th' very livings.

Ah, and so my feelings are dangerous-
for they have no soul; are bound not by wings.
As thou smileth to me-they smile not, but groweth serious-
and their seriousness, in return, bringst not one single uttering.
My thee, my thee, but if thou art not my fate,
how couldst I call thee always, my salvation?
In my heart thou art not merely my mate;
thou art worth all my warmth, regrets, and thus holiest temptation.
How am I to procure advancements, my sweet lad-
Should we hath been 'lone, had we never met?

With thee I hath been in love,
and for whom my feelings are tough.
Still I believe loyalty is in thee,
and honour in me-is whenst I loveth thee only.
My thee!
O-my thee, by whom these long-living trepidations
shalt no more be meaningful,
as how all other's admirations
shalt become unfelt, and sorrowful.

Feelings, feelings, o my incarcerated feelings
My tears are thy soul; that shape and form thy whole
To live and love whilst these flames are strong,
to whose lips only, I am insane-but clearly belong.