SAPPHO
(Ύμνος προς την Αφροδίτη (ποικιλόθρον’) – Σαπφώ – English translation)
Resplendently throned, immortal Aphrodite,
Ruse-weaving child of Zeus, I pray you:
Do not overwhelm, neither with agitation nor sorrow –
O Lady – my heart.
But come hither, if at one time or another
This my voice from afar makes you heed
And listen, and leave your father's abode
Of gold to come,
Yoking your chariot – guided by lovely
Sparrows, agile over black earth,
Swift-beating wings whirling through the welkin
Down its midst –
Then suddenly arrive: you, O blessed lady,
Smiling with your deathless face,
Ask, What has made you suffer this time? and why
Do you invoke me again?
What do you yearn most direly to realize
In your inebriate heart? Who do you coax this time
To steer back into your affection? Who, O
Sappho, has wronged you?
For if she flees, soon she will pursue you;
If she accepts no gifts, she'll be giving them instead;
If she does not love, soon she'll love
Even against her will.
Yet still come to me, release me from hard
Solicitudes; and with whatever fulfillments
My heart desires, fulfill it; you yourself
Be my ally.