Friday Poetry Blogging

Many colored throned immortal Aphrodita,
daughter of Zeus, wile-weaver, I beg you
with reproaches and harms do not beat down
O Lady, my soul

But come here, if ever at another time
My voice hearing, from afar
You gave ear, and your father's home leaving
-- golden -- you came

yoking the chariot. And fair, swift
doves brought you over the black earth
dense wings whirring, from heaven down
through middle air.

Suddenly they arrived, and you, O Blessed One,
Smiling with your immortal countenance
Asked what hurt me, and for what
Now I cried out

And what do I want to happen most
In my crazy heart. "Whom then Persuasion
to bring to you, dearest? Who
Sappho hurts you?

And if she flees, soon will she follow,
And if she does not take gifts, she will give,
If she does not love, she will love
Despite herself"

Come to me now, the harsh worry
Let loose, what my heart wants to be
Done, do it!, and you yourself be
My battle-ally.
-- Sappho