Sappho

I have no longer the strength I had of old.

The moon has set, / and the Pleiades; / it is midnight, / time passes, / and I sleep alone.

Someone, I tell you, will remember us, / I say, even in another time.

Love shook my heart / like the wind on the mountain bough.

Sweet mother, I cannot ply the loom.

Eros the melter of limbs (now again) stirs me — / sweetbitter, impossible to fight off, creature of delight.

Stand to face the great hall of Hades.

I loved you once long ago, Atthis.

The sound of your voice is sweeter than the lyre.

Hesperus, you bring back all that bright morning's / swift flight dispersed.

You bring the sheep, you bring the goat, / bring back your child to her mother.

Come, my sweet-voiced sparrows, / yoked to my chariot.

And bring that one here, whom my heart desires.

Golden-haired Love, do you not sit smiling / beside me? Do you not say, 'What ails you, Sappho?'

Old age now has made me / grey at the temples.

My skin was soft once, now it is creased.

I loved the son of rich Anchises, / Aeneas, and the strength of Leda's daughters.

Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers, / others call a fleet the most beautiful sights the dark world offers

But I say it is whatever one loves.

This is easy to prove: did not Helen / choose to abandon her fine husband