“may you sleep on the breast of your delicate friend”

“Girls, be good to these spirits of music and poetrythat breast your threshold with their scented gifts.Lift the lyre, clear and sweet, they leave with you.As for me, this body is now so arthriticI cannot play, hardly even hold the instrument.Can you believe my white hair was once black?And oh, the soul grows heavy with the body.Complaining knee-joints creak at every move.To think I danced as delicate as a deer!Some gloomy poems came from these thoughts:useless: we are all born to lose life,and what is worse, girls, to lose youth.The legend of the goddess of the dawnI’m sure you know: how rosy Eosmadly in love with gorgeous young Tithonusswept him like booty to her hiding-placebut then forgot he would grow old and greywhile she in despair pursued her immortal way.”

“You may forget butlet me tell youthis: someone insome future timewill think of us”

“...gracious your form and your eyes as honey : desire is poured upon your lovely face Aphrodite has honored you exceedingly...”

“yet if you had a desire for good or beautiful thingsand your tongue were not concocting some evil to sayshame would not hold down your eyesbut rather you would speak about what is just”

“I can reveal to you that I wished to die -For with much weeping she left meSaying: "Sappho - what suffering is ours!For it is against my will that I leave you."In answer, I said: "Go, happily remembering meFor you know what we shared and pursued -If not, I wish you to see again our [ former joys ] .....The many braids of rose and violet you [ wreathed ]Around yourself at my sideAnd the many garlands of flowersWith which you adorned your soft neck:With royal oils from [ fresh flowers ]You anointed [ yourself ]And on soft beds fulfilled your longing[ For me ] ....”

“Honestly, I wish I were dead.Weeping many tears, she left me and said,“Alas, how terribly we suffer, Sappho.I really leave you against my will.”And I answered: “Farewell, go and remember me.You know how we cared for you.If not, I would remind you ... of our wonderful times.For by my side you put onmany wreaths of rosesand garlands of flowersaround your soft neck.And with precious and royal perfumeyou anointed yourself.On soft beds you satisfied your passion.And there was no dance,no holy placefrom which we were absent.”