Read Ebook: The Poems of Sappho: An Interpretative Rendition into English by Sappho O Hara John Myers Translator

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Ebook has 475 lines and 22546 words, and 10 pages

From the shade of branches that droop and cover Shallow trenches winding about the orchard, Restful comes, and cool to the sense, the flowing Murmur of water.

THE GARDEN OF THE NYMPHS

All around through the apple boughs in blossom Murmur cool the breezes of early summer, And from leaves that quiver above me gently Slumber is shaken;

Glades of poppies swoon in the drowsy languor, Dreaming roses bend, and the oleanders Bask and nod to drone of bees in the silent Fervor of noontide;

Myrtle coverts hedging the open vista, Dear to nightly frolic of Nymph and Satyr, Yield a mossy bed for the brown and weary Limbs of the shepherd.

Echo ever wafts through the drooping frondage, Ceaseless silver murmur of water falling In the grotto cool of the Nymphs, the sacred Haunt of Immortals;

Down the sides of rocks that are gray and lichened Trickle tiny rills, whose expectant tinkle Drips with gurgle hushed in the clear glimmering Depths of the basin.

Fair on royal couches of leaves recumbent, Interspersed with languor of waxen lilies, Lotus flowers empurple the pool whose edge is Cushioned with mosses;

Here recline the Nymphs at the hour of twilight, Back in shadows dim of the cave, their golden Sea-green eyes half lidded, up to their supple Waists in the water.

Sheltered once by ferns I espied them binding Tresses long, the tint of lilac and orange; Just beyond the shimmer of light their bodies Roseate glistened;

Deftly, then, they girdled their loins with garlands, Linked with leaves luxuriant limb and shoulder; On their breasts they bruised the red blood of roses Fresh from the garden.

She of orange hair was the Nymph Euxanthis, And the lilac-tressed were Iphis and Io; How they laughed, relating at length their ease in Evading the Satyr.

APHRODITE'S DOVES

When the drifting gray of the vesper shadow Dimmed their upward path through the midmost azure, And the length of night overtook them distant Far from Olympus;

Far away from splendor and joy of Paphos, From the voice and smile of their peerless Mistress, Back to whom their truant wings were in rapture Speeding belated;

Chilled at heart and grieving they drooped their pinions, Circled slowly, dipping in flight toward Lesbos, Down through dusk that darkened on Mitylene's Columns of marble;

Down through glory wan of the fading sunset, Veering ever toward the abode of Sappho, Toward my home, the fane of the glad devoted Slave of the Goddess;

Soon they gained the tile of my roof and rested, Slipped their heads beneath their wings while I watched them Sink to sleep and dreams, in the warm and drowsy Night of midsummer.

ANACREON'S SONG

Golden-throned Muse, sing the song that in olden Days was sung of love and delight in Teos, In the goodly land of the lovely women: Strains that in other

Years the hoary bard with the youthful fancy Set to mirthful stir of flutes, when the dancing Nymphs that poured the wine for the poet's banquet Mixed it with kisses;

Sing the song while I, in the arms of Atthis, Seal her lips to mine with a lover's fervor, Breathe her breath and drink her sighs to the honeyed Lull of the melics.

THE DAUGHTER OF CYPRUS

Dreaming I spake with the Daughter of Cyprus, Heard the languor soft of her voice, the blended Suave accord of tones interfused with laughter Low and desireful;

Dreaming saw her dread ineffable beauty, Saw through texture fine of her clinging tunic Blush the fire of flesh, the rose of her body, Radiant, blinding;

Saw through filmy meshes the melting lovely Flow of line, the exquisite curves, whence piercing Rapture reached with tangible touch to thrill me, Almost to slay me;

Saw the gleaming foot, and the golden sandal Held by straps of Lydian work thrice doubled Over the instep's arch, and up the rounded Dazzling ankle;

Saw the charms that shimmered from knee to shoulder, Hint of hues, than milk or the snowdrift whiter; Secret grace, the shrine of the soul of passion, Glows that consumed me;

Saw the gathered mass of her xanthic tresses, Mitra-bound, escape from the clasping fillet, Float and shine as clouds in the sunset splendor, Mists in the dawn-fire;

Saw the face immortal, and daring greatly, Raised my eyes to hers of unfathomed azure, Drank their world's desire, their limitless longing, Swooned and was nothing.

THE DISTAFF

Come, ye dainty Graces and lovely Muses, Rosy-armed and pure and with fairest tresses, Come from groves on Helicon's hill where murmur Founts that are holy;

Come with dancing step and with lips harmonic, Gather near and view my ivory distaff, Gift from Cos my brother Charaxus brought me, Sailing from Egypt;

Sailing back to Lesbos from far Naucratis, From the seven mouths of the Nile and Egypt Up the blue AEgean, the island-dotted Ocean of Hellas;

Choicest wool alone will I spin for fabrics, Winding reel with threads for the cloths as fleecy, Soft and fine as they bring from far Phocea, Sidon or Sardis;

While I weave my thought shall engird the giver, Whether here, or far on the sea, or resting Couched in shady courts with the lovely garland Girls of Naucratis.

THE SLEEP WIND

Softer than mists o'er the pale green of waters, O'er the charmed sea, shod with sandals of shadow Comes the warm sleep wind of Argolis, floating Garlands of fragrance;

Comes the sweet wind by the still hours attended, Touching tired lids on the shores dim with distance, Ever its way toward the headland of Lesbos, Toward Mitylene.

Faintly one fair star of evening enkindles On the dusk afar its lone fire OEtean, Shining serene till the darkness will deepen Others to splendor;

Bringing ineffable peace, and the gladsome Return with the night of all things that morning Ruthlessly parted, the child to its mother, Lover to lover.

From the marble court of rose-crowned companions, All alone my feet again seek the little Theatre pledged to the Muse, now deserted, Facing the surges;

Where the carved Pan-heads that laugh down the gentle Slope of broad steps to the refluent ripple, Flute from their thin pipes the dithyrambs deathless, Songs all unuttered.

Empty each seat where my girl friends acclaimed me, Poets with names on the tiered stone engraven, Over whose verge blooms the apple tree, drifting Perfume and petals;

Gone Telesippa and tender Gyrinno, Anactoria, woman divine; Atthis, Subtlest of soul, fair Damophyla, Dica, Maids of the Muses.

Here an hour past soul-enravished they listened While my rapt heart breathed its paean impassioned, Chanted its wild prayer to thee, Aphrodite, Daughter of Cyprus;

Now to their homes are they gone in the city, Pensive to dream limb-relaxed while the languid Slaves come and lift from the tresses they loosen, Flowers that have faded.

Thou alone, Sappho, art sole with the silence, Sole with night and dreams that are darkness, weaving Thoughts that are sighs from the heart and their meaning Vague as the shadow;

When the great silence shall come to thee, sad one, Men that forget shall remember thy music, Murmur thy name that shall steal on their passion Soft as the sleep wind.

THE REPROACH

Kypris, hear my prayer to thee and the Nereids! Safely bring the ship of my brother homewards, Bring him back unharmed to the heart that loves him, Throbbing remorseful;

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