Long sappho Poems
Long sappho Poems. Below are the most popular long sappho by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long sappho poems by poem length and keyword.
Aphrodite, immortal, enthroned in wonder,
Sky-daughter, webstress of love schemes, I entreat you
not to break my spirit with pangs of anguish,
Queen, Lady, Mother,
but now come to me, if in the past you ever
also heeded me when I cried from afar, and,
leaving behind the golden house of your father
Zeus, you descended
borne in a chariot yoked to a flock of lovely
sparrows flying fast over earth’s black richness,
thickly fluttering wings leading you a passage
through bright mid-heaven,
soon arriving, and you, O supreme in blessing,
eternity’s smile gleaming from your expression,
asked me now this time what again I suffered,
what did I pray for,
what beyond all else I would want to happen
with all my love-maddened heart: “Who now needs persuasion
to be led back to your affection? Who is it,
Sappho, who hurts you?
Though she now may run, she will soon pursue you;
now she may spurn gifts, but she soon will give them;
now she feels no love, but she soon will feel it,
even unwilling.”
Come to me this time again: act as my deliveress
from this mastering pain, and, as the fulfiller
of everything that my passion hopes for, take your
stand as my ally.
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— translated from the Greek by Jon Corelis
The YouTube video is my musical setting of this poem performed by Beth Ratay.
is solely known for "brainwashing,"
Larichos was Sappho's brother
A mere wine pourer she spoke of him
while he wishes to marry I will
undermine him.
A circle of women might he
wish and long to have
that he is foolish and his wants shall be
his undoing, spoke Sappho of her brother
who wished to date Aimsir FraochÚn a
woman of the wealth.
Sappho and the woman collaberated to fool
Larichos, she told him she'd marry him if
he bought her ten gold bars
to create the tradition of them together
he did so for along time and when he
became concern of his own ego he asked her
how many gold bars had he givin her
she anwsered100 and said we have established a togetherness
for ten days, he than asked her to return them
as he was unsatisfied she refused
so Larichos went to Aphrodite and told her the story
Ahphodite said that only a inspiring frenzy and ecstacy could
make a man so brainwashed
so she suduced him to see if he was as great a lover
as he spoke.
Days later Aphodite went to Aimmmmmmsir and Sappho
she found them speaking as they were one
she placed a spell on them and condemed them to a n island in the sea.
CATULLUS TRANSLATIONS
Catullus LXXXV: 'Odi et Amo'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
I hate. I love.
You ask, 'Why not refrain?'
I wish I could explain.
I can't, but feel the pain.
2.
I hate. I love.
Why? Heavens above!
I wish I could explain.
I can't, but feel the pain.
3.
I hate. I love.
How can that be, turtledove?
I wish I could explain.
I can't, but feel the pain.
Catullus CVI: 'That Boy'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
See that young boy, by the auctioneer?
He's so pretty he sells himself, I fear!
Catullus LI: 'That Man'
This is Catullus's translation of a poem by Sappho of Lesbos
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I'd call that man the equal of the gods,
or,
could it be forgiven
in heaven,
their superior,
because to him space is given
to bask in your divine presence,
to gaze upon you, smile, and listen
to your ambrosial laughter
which leaves men senseless
here and hereafter.
Meanwhile, in my misery,
I'm left speechless.
Lesbia, there's nothing left of me
but a voiceless tongue grown thick in my mouth
and a thin flame running south...
My limbs tingle, my ears ring, my eyes water
till they swim in darkness.
Call it leisure, Catullus, or call it idleness,
whatever it is that incapacitates you.
By any other name it's the nemesis
fallen kings, empires and cities rue.
Catullus 1 ('cui dono lepidum novum libellum')
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
To whom do I dedicate this novel book
polished drily with a pumice stone?
To you, Cornelius, for you would look
content, as if my scribblings took
the cake, when in truth you alone
unfolded Italian history in three scrolls,
as learned as Jupiter in your labors.
Therefore, this little book is yours,
whatever it is, which, O patron Maiden,
I pray will last more than my lifetime!
Catullus XLIX: 'A Toast to Cicero'
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Cicero, please confess:
You're drunk on your success!
All men of good taste attest
That you're the very best—
At making speeches, first class!
While I'm the dregs of the glass.
Keywords/Tags: Catullus, Latin, English Translation, Rome, Roman, hate, love, pain, man, boy, Cicero, novel, book, books, god, gods, heaven
Sappho Translations I
Sappho, fragment 132 (Lobel-Page 132)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
1.
I have a delightful daughter
fairer than the fairest flowers, Cleis,
whom I cherish more than all Lydia and lovely Lesbos.
2.
I have a lovely daughter
with a face like the fairest flowers,
my beloved Cleis …
It bears noting that Sappho mentions her daughter and brothers, but not her husband. We do not know if this means she was unmarried, because so many of her verses have been lost.
Sappho, fragment 131 (Lobel-Page 131)
loose translations/interpretations by Michael R. Burch
1.
You reject me, Attis,
as if you find me distasteful,
flitting off to Andromeda ...
2.
Attis, you forsake me
and flit off to Andromeda ...
Sappho, fragment 140 (Lobel-Page 140)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
He is dying, Cytherea, the delicate Adonis.
What shall we lovers do?
Rip off your clothes, bare your breasts and abuse them!
Sappho, fragment 36
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?
Sappho, fragment 130
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
May the gods prolong the night
—yes, let it last forever!—
as long as you sleep in my sight.
... a sweet-voiced maiden ...
—Sappho, fragment 153, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I have the most childlike heart ...
—Sappho, fragment 120, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
There was no dance,
no sacred dalliance,
from which we were absent.
—Sappho, fragment 19, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I love the sensual
as I love the sun’s ecstatic brilliance.
—Sappho, fragment 9, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
I love the sensual
as I love the sun’s splendor.
—Sappho, fragment 9, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
You anointed yourself
with most exquisite perfume.
—Sappho, fragment 19, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Awed by the moon’s splendor,
stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.
—Sappho, fragment 34, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Keywords/Tags: Sappho, Lesbos, Greek, translation, epigram, epigrams, love, sex, desire, passion, lust, lesbian, LGBTQ
Georgia Brown
1898-1914
We were the deathless dream dancers
The crazy girls with secrets and surprises!
Me and Nellie and Trudy and Olive.
We waited monthly for the full midnight moon
Waited with no words uttered
Our secret times together,
Times and moments never mentioned or known about,
By everyone we knew and did not know,
Except by us, the crazy girls
The deathless dream dancers, barefoot
With satin ribbons in our braids,
We joined smooth perfumed hands and fingers
In old Clark Cemetery
Across Citrus Road over there,
As our sleepy snoozing town dreamed unawares,
And we danced silently, gracefully, freely,
As with the monarchs and the tiger swallowtails
Fluttering in the summer sunlight of our audacious youth,
Our sheer cotton dresses,
Lifting them up, and letting them fall,
Again and again and again,
From the Hadley tombstone, and
Around the standing procession of desert palm trees
Around and around and around,
All the way over to the Hardy gravestone,
Me and the crazy girls!
We, the deathless dream dancers,
Keepers of secrets and surprises,
Saw something in the moon shadows there,
Something no one else has ever seen!
Yes, we saw the smile of Sappho
Carved with the knife of God
On the stone sepulcher of Roscoe Settle!
Would that this poet were in Greece!
Her heart enchanted on its sunlit sands.
Her lover, kissing her porcelain hands.
His eyes, deep, dark as Kalmata olives.
The homes, white, with bright, blue tops.
Her heart beating so loudly, fearing it may stop!
But as the sun sets, she is far calmer.
Her head on his chest, she hears its Greek beat.
Then in Hellenic peace ,falls asleep to it’s melodic treat.
Sappho and Homer, she felt reincarnated.
To pen of love was always her deepest desire!
Deceased ages ago, but love brought back
her pen’s desire!
Dedicated to James
Thank you, dear friend!
8/31/2022
If our love is a sin, then heaven must be full of such tender and selfless sinning as ours— Radclyffe Hall
Explore themes of love and identity
Of Stephen Gordon’s innate sense of masculinity
Since a child, her desire, ‘women’
The idea that if love is considered a sin
The unfolding of a female sexual invert
The act of loving must be a tender selfless act, revert?
Love itself is not inherently sinful or
complexities of love, we shan’t ignore
But rather the circumstances surrounding it
Misfits from Malvern to London and then to Paris!
Ira furor brevis, the frailty, taboo and strife
Fellow q***r characters, all walks of life
From the *sapphic salon hostess Valérie Seymour
To the 'miserable army' and more
of outcasts that frequents the 'merciless
Drug-dealing, death-dealing' bars of Montmartre
Written in another time, still support and solidarity to
generations of LGBTQ genre
*Sapphic is an umbrella term for same-gender loving women or woman-aligned people, including lesbians and bisexual+ women. It is used to describe topics, activities, and ideas related to same-sex attraction among women. The term can also refer to the Greek lyric poet Sappho.
These are nature poems about unusual plants like the moonflower and agave.
Moonflower
by Michael R. Burch
after Robert Hayden
Marveling,
we at last beheld the achieved flower—
both awed and repelled by its alienness,
its moonlit petals,
its cloying fragrance,
its transcendence,
its shimmering and wavering intimations of mortality ...
To Flower
by Michael R. Burch
We are not long for this earth, I know—
you and I, all our petals incurled,
till a night of pale brilliance, moonflower aglow.
Is there love anywhere in this strange world?
The agave knows best when it’s time to die
and rages to life with such rapturous leaves
her name means Illustrious. Each hour more high,
she claws toward heaven, for, if she believes
in love at all, she has left it behind
to flower, to flower. When darkness falls
she wilts down to meet it, where something crawls:
beheaded, bewildered. And since love is blind,
she never adored it, nor watches it go.
Can we be as she is, moonflower aglow?
When Pentheus [“grief’] went into the mountains in the garb of the bacchae, his mother [Agave] and the other maenads, possessed by Dionysus, tore him apart (Euripides, Bacchae; Apollodorus 3.5.2; Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.511-733; Hyginus, Fabulae 184). The agave dies as soon as it blooms; the moonflower, or night-blooming cereus, is a desert plant of similar fate.
Our English Rose
by Michael R. Burch
for my mother Christine Ena Burch
The rose is?
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.
This is my translation/interpretation of a Sappho epigram.
Keywords/Tags: nature, moonflower, agave, flower, petals, rose, earth, beauty, beautiful, night, mortality
Miraji translations into modern English
I'm obsessed with this thought:
does God possess mercy?
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch
Come, see this dance, the immaculate dance of the devadasi!
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch
Excerpts from “Going, Going ...”
by Miraji
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
Each unfolding vista,
each companion’s kindnesses,
every woman’s subtle sorceries,
everything that transiently lies within our power
quickly dissolves
and we are left with only a cupped flame, flickering ...
Should we call that “passion”?
The moon scrapes the horizon
and who can measure a star’s breadth?
The time allotted a life, if we calculate it,
is really only a fleeting breath ...
1.
Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
after my life has come and gone,
perhaps someone
hearing my voice drifting
on the breeze of some future spring
will chase after my songs
like dandelions.
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch
2.
Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
after my life has come and gone,
perhaps someone
hearing my voice drifting
through some distant future spring
will pluck my songs
like dandelions.
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch
3.
Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
when my life has come and gone,
and when I’m dead and done,
perhaps someone
hearing me sing
in a distant spring
will echo my songs
the whole world over.
—Miraji, translation by Michael R. Burch
If I understand things correctly, Miraji wrote the lines above after translating a verse by Sappho in which she said that her poems would be remembered in the future. I suspect both poets and both prophecies were correct!
At the Feet of the Goddess
by Michael R. Burch
“What will you conceive in me?”—
I asked her. But she
only smiled.
“Naked, I bore your child
when the wolf wind howled,
when the cold moon scowled . . .
naked, and gladly.”
“What will become of me?”—
I asked her, as she
absently stroked my hand.
Centuries later, I understand:
she whispered—“I Am.”
Published by Romantics Quarterly (the first poem in the first issue), Penny Dreadful, Unlikely Stories, Underground Poets, Poetically Speaking, Poetry Life & Times, Little Brown Poetry. Keywords/Tags: Muse, Goddess, Erato, Beloved, poetic, lyric, divinity, Orpheus, Sappho, poems, Poetess, poets, poetry, inspiration, God