greeklyric

[greeklyric]

Sappho Fragment 58

You, O child, pursue after the violet-clad Muses,

beautiful gifts and the sharp song-loving lyre.

My once delicate body, old age now seizes,

and my hair has become white from black.

My spirit has been made heavy, and my knees do not carry me,

which once were nimble, dancing like fawns.

These things I often lament, but what can I do?

It is not possible for a human to become ageless.

For once they said rosy-armed Eros went,

out of love to the ends of the earth, carrying Tithonus

being beautiful and young, but nevertheless in time,

gray age seized him, who had an immortal wife.

[greeklyric]

Sappho Fragment 31

He seems to be to be equal to the gods,

that man whoever sits opposite you,

and listens close to your lovely voice,

and delightful laugh.

Truly this causes my heart to flutter in my chest,

for whenever I look at you,

for a moment,

I can say nothing.

My tongue is broken entirely,

and at once a delicate fire runs under my skin,

I can see nothing with my eyes,

my ears are buzzing.

And sweat pours down me,

a trembling seizes me whole,

I am greener than grass,

and I appear nearly to have died.

But all can be endured.

[greeklyric]

Sappho PMG 976

The moon and the Pleiades have set,

it is the middle of the night,

time passes,

and I lie down alone.

[greeklyric]

Sappho Fragment 16

Some people say a host of horsemen, others a host of infantry, others a host of ships, to be the most beautiful thing upon the black earth, but I say that it is whomever someone may love.

It's entirely easy to make this understood to everyone. For Helen, far surpassing mortal beauty, forsaking her husband, the best of all men, went sailing to Troy, remembering neither her child nor her beloved parents, but Aphrodite led her astray...

For flexible ...

lightly ...

Now this reminds me of Anaktoria, not being here. I would rather see her lovely steps, and radiant splendid face, than Lydian chariots and footsoldiers in full armor.

[greeklyric]

Sappho Fragment One

O immortal Aphrodite, on a many colored throne,

daughter of Zeus, weaver of wiles, I beg you,

don't subdue my soul, mistress, with loathing

and sorrow.

But hither if you came at any time

hearing my voice from afar you listened,

and you came heading, leaving the golden house of your

father,

yoking your chariot. The beautiful swift sparrows were leading

you over the black earth, fast-beating wings

whirling, from through the middle of

heaven's ether,

they arrived quickly. And you, o blessed one, smile on your

immortal face, asked what this time

I had suffered, and why this time

did I call.

And what I wished most of all to to happen

to myself, my frenzied heart: "whom this time

do I persuade to lead you back again to her love?

O Sappho, who wrongs you?"

For even if she flees, soon she will pursue,

and if she does not accept gifts, she will give,

and if she does not love, soon she will love

even unwilling.

Come to me now, free from painful thoughts,

as much as your soul desires to fulfill,

you will fulfill, and you yourself

be my ally.