Jim Levy Poet Lyric

Lesbia Recalls Meeting Catullus

That night you came and dined with us
there was a wind, then soft rain. 
My hair was dressed by Aemilia                     
who does it to perfection, and I wore no jewelry
except the brooch my husband gave me. 
When I barked at you he laughed thinking 
I was scornful of your youth.  

I barked – and burned. The spark was there. 
Some call it love, an arrow or an illness, 
a misfortune not to be evaded. 
I don’t call it anything but strange. 
Why one and not another? Dear boy, 
I said to you that night, love is not a wound.  
You thought I meant to lure you with those words
and so, to end the evening, you read a poem by Sappho. 
	
The sweet murmur of your voice 
            makes my heart beat faster. 
            One glance from you and I can’t speak.  
	A thin flame slides beneath my skin,
            cold sweat trickles down my back, 
            I turn pale as dry grass. 

Of course I knew that poem 
and knew you left off both the start 
and end of it, to hide what you were saying
and to whom.

♡Like0

Share Poem

---

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment