Atthis: a Sapphic Ode 3
(Hardly anything is known about Sappho, but no-one seriously
doubts her greatness as a poet. She lived on the Greek island
of Lesbos (hence “Lesbian”) in the seventh century BC. All that
has survived of her work is a scattering of scraps, but even this
meagre evidence establishes her as one of the foremost poets
of all time.)
V.
The sunlight is old now,
and losing its fine force.
Beneath the turgid moon, then,
let young women take their places.
As the silent globe swells up,
her sisters, the silver stars,
show their little faces.
Slow, slow, naked feet
together pound the earth.
Our circle is a living altar,
and grass fronds kiss our calves.
Just for one night the moon is full,
glorious in her loveliness,
dancing her own white path
on the sparkling dark sea.
Dance together
under the moon,
Aphrodite's daughters!
Dance with us,
goddess of love,
with the subtly shining hair.
You are mine, fair Atthis,
and will never be this fair again.
When drum and tambourine
have captured us and wiped us clean
of self, we will make love.
In each other's arms,
breathing, sleeping,
with silent moon gliding ...
why, then, am I weeping?
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