SAPPHO
(ὀρράνοθεν – Σαπφώ – English translation)
] from heaven
] dwelling
Come hither to me, from Crete to your temple
Divine; for here are lovely sacred groves for you
Of apple trees, and altars which smoke
With frankincense.
Here, too, cold water plashes through the boughs
Of the apple trees, and roses overbrim the place
With shade, and from the fluttering leaves
Lethargy comes dribbling off.
Here is a pasture for grazing horses, that flourishes
In spring with flowers, when the wind would
Clemently blow [
[
Now thither you [⠀⠀⠀] Cypris, take
The golden winecup graciously – where
Merriment mingles with nectar – and
Pour.