Sappho Translations XIII
Sappho Translations XIII by Michael R. Burch
In these translations the fragment numbers are mostly Lobel-Page. All translations are by Michael R. Burch and should be so credited if they are used in any way, shape or form.
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)
Ares bragged he'd drag forge-master Hephaestus off by sheer force! (66)
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)
Our playmates are pink-ankled Graces and golden Aphrodite! (93)
You remind me of a little girl that I once assisted picking flowers. (94)
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)
Undaunted by summer ablaze, the cicada emits its high, shrill song. (101a)
Gorgo took her many insignificant verses to Cyprus, to be admired by many. (103a)
Lesbos'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)
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