On your dazzling throne, Aphrodite,
sly eternal daughter of Zeus,
I beg you: do not crush me
but come to me nowas once
you heard my far cry, and yielded,
slipping from your
to yoke the birds to your gold
chariot, and came. Handsome sparrows
brought you swiftly to
the dark earth,
their wings whipping the middle sky.
Happy, with deathless lips, you smiled:
"What is wrong, Sappho, why have
you called me?
What does your mad heart desire?
Whom shall I make love you,
who is turning her back
Let her run away, soon she'll chase you;
refuse your gifts, soon she'll give them.
She will love you, though
Then come to me now and free me
from fearful agony. Labor
for my mad heart, and be
Greek; trans. Willis Barnstone
Sappho, Greek, trans. Willis Barnstone.