Atthis: a Sapphic Ode 3

(Hardly anything is known about Sappho, but no-one seriously doubts her greatness as a poet. She lived on the Greek island of Lesbos (hence “Lesbian”) in the seventh century BC. All that has survived of her work is a scattering of scraps, but even this meagre evidence establishes her as one of the foremost poets of all time.) V. The sunlight is old now, and losing its fine force. Beneath the turgid moon, then, let young women take their places. As the silent globe swells up, her sisters, the silver stars, show their little faces. Slow, slow, naked feet together pound the earth. Our circle is a living altar, and grass fronds kiss our calves. Just for one night the moon is full, glorious in her loveliness, dancing her own white path on the sparkling dark sea. Dance together under the moon, Aphrodite's daughters! Dance with us, goddess of love, with the subtly shining hair. You are mine, fair Atthis, and will never be this fair again. When drum and tambourine have captured us and wiped us clean of self, we will make love. In each other's arms, breathing, sleeping, with silent moon gliding ... why, then, am I weeping?