Monday, May 5, 2008


I read through Mary Barnard's translation of Sappho tonight; this verse made me sigh so I thought I would share it.

Part III, page 39
He is more than a hero

He is a god in my eyes-
the man who is allowed
to sit beside you - he

who listens intimately
to the sweet murmur of
your voice, the enticing

laughter that makes my own
heart beat fast. If I meet
you suddenly, I can't

speak - my tongue is broken;
a thin flame runs under
my skin; seeing nothing,

hearing only my own ears
drumming, I drip with sweat;
trembling shakes my body

and I turn paler than
dry grass. At such times
death isn't far from me

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