“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”

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

“What is beautiful is good, and who is good will soon be beautiful.”

“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.”

“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.”

“Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers, others call a fleet the most beautiful of sights the dark earth offers, but I say it's what- ever you love best.. . . .But that reminds me:now my Anactória is gone, and I'd rather see her lovely step, her sparkling glance and her face than gaze on all the troops in Lydia in their chariots and glittering armor.”

“Then you my goddess with your immortal lips smilingWould ask what now afflicts me, why againI am calling and what now I with my restive heartDesired: Whom now shall I beguile To bring you to her love? Who now injures you, Sappho? For if she flees, soon shall she chase And, rejecting gifts, soon shall she give. If she does not love you, she shall do so soon Whatsoever is her will.Come to me now to end this consuming painBringing what my heart desires to be brought:Be yourself my ally in this fight.”