Sappho Quotes
He seems to me equal to gods, that man whoever he is who opposite you sits close and listens to your sweet speaking and lovely laughing. Oh, it puts the heart in my chest on wings. For when I look at you, even a moment, no speaking is left, in me. No. Tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin, and in eyes no sight, and drumming fills ears, and cold sweat holds me and shaking grips me all.
The stars about the fair moon in their turn hide their bright face when she at about her full lights up all earth with silver.
Variant: The stars around the lovely moon
Their radiant visage hide as soon
As she, full-orbed, appears to sight,
Flooding the earth with her silvery light.
Age seizes my skin and turns my hair from black to white. My knees no longer bear me. And I am unable to dance again like a fawn.
My life is bitter with thy love; thine eyes
Blind me, thy tresses burn me, thy sharp sighs
Divide my flesh and spirit with soft sound.
Stand face to face, friend ... and unveil the grace in thine eyes.
This is my fair girl-garden: sweet they grow; rose, violet, asphodel and lily’s snow; and which the sweetest is, I do not know; for rosy arms and starry eyes are there. Honey-sweet voices and cheeks passing fair. And these shall men, I ween, remember long; for these shall bloom forever in my song.
I yearn and seek..
When anger spreads through the breath, guard thy tongue from barking idly.
Variant: When through thy breast wild wrath doth spread
And work thy inmost being harm,
Leave thou the fiery word unsaid,
Guard thee; be calm.
I love delicacy, and for me Love has the sun's splendour and beauty.
Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart.
Variant: Love shook me like the mountain breeze
Rushing down on the forest trees.
O dream on your black wings
you come when I am sleeping.
Sweet is the god but still I am
in agony and far from my strength.
for I had hope (none now) to share
something of the blessed gods,
nor was I so foolish
as to scorn pleasant toys.
Now may I have
all these things.
I love, I burn, and only love require,
And nothing less can quench the raging fire.
What youth, what raving lover shall I gain?
Where is the captive that should wear my chain?
What is beautiful is good, and who is good will soon be beautiful.
Variant: He who is fair to look upon is good, and he who is good will soon be fair also.
When I look on you a moment, then I can speak no more, but my tongue falls silent, and at once a delicate flame courses beneath my skin, and with my eyes I see nothing, and my ears hum, and a wet sweat bathes me, and a trembling seizes me all over.
Wealth without virtue is a dangerous guest;
Who holds them mingled is supremely blest.
Variant: Wealth without thee, Worth, is no safe neighbour, but the mixture of both is the height of happiness.
For they whom I benefit injure me most.
Love
bittersweet, irrepressible
loosens my limbs and I tremble.
Variant: How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away.
Death is an evil; the gods have so judged; had it been good, they would die.
Variant: Death must be an Evil - and the gods agree; for why else would they live for ever?
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
Release my soul and set it free
From bonds of piercing agony.
Hadst thou felt desire for things good or noble, and had not thy tongue framed some evil speech, shame had not filled thine eyes, but thou hadst spoken honestly about it.
Beauty endures only for as long as it can be seen; goodness, beautiful today, will remain so tomorrow.
The rose, the rose, that royal flower had been!
She is of earth the gem,
Of flowers the diadem;
And with her flush
The meadows blush;
Nay, she is beauty's self that brightens
In Summer, when the warm air lightens!
Her breath's the breath of Love,
Wherewith he lures the dove
Of the fair Cyprian queen;
Her petals are a screen
Of pink and quivering green,
For Cupid when he sleeps,
Or for mild Zephyrus, who laughs and weeps.
Although they are
only breath, words
which I command
are immortal.
Thy needful presence I implore.
In pity come, and ease my grief,
Bring my distempered soul relief,
Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart desires.
But thou shalt ever lie dead, nor shall there be any remembrance of thee then or thereafter, for thou hast not of the roses of Pieria; but thou shalt wander obscure even in the house of Hades, flitting among the shadowy dead.
Evening, thou that bringest all that bright morning scattered; thou bringest the sheep, the goat, the child back to her mother.
Him the wanderer o'er the world
Far away the winds will bear,
And restless care.
I know not what to do; my mind is divided.
Like the sweet apple that reddens at end of the bough. Far end of the bough. Left by the gatherer's swaying. Forgotten, so thou. Nay, not forgotten, ungotten, ungathered (till now).
