The poem is a hymn of the type called "kletic," that is, a calling hymn, an invocation to god to come from where she is to where we are. Hymnic features include the opening catalogue of divine epithets, central reverie concerned with former epiphanies of the god, repetition of a plea at the beginning andthe end ("come here…come to me"). This poem is cast in the form of a hymn or prayer, how straightforwardly is hard to say.
There is an eerie casualness to the immortal voice simply present withing Sappho's own, which some translators modify with quotation marks or italics. I might haul up a bucket of spring water.Ĭarson's commentary about the context of this poem as a hymn to Aphrodite and how it invokes the god's presence: 1.18-24: "Sappho's reverie goes transparent at the center when she shifts midverse to direct speech of Aphrodite. If for once he’d get off his ass, he might make something of himself.
If they have a whim, they make some henchmen fix it up,Ī puff of smoke, a little fog, away goes the hero, Or send off a tsunami the way you would a love letter. Thank you, for curing my liver condition.” Or blubbering, “Wah, wah, wah, thank you,
#Sappho fragments meaning free
“Blah, blah, blah, bring him home safe and free of warts,” Now you’d like me on my knees, crying out to Hera, What does Zeus care, or the rest of his gang? That’s a fellow with a fat-bellied ship always in some port or other. Check out a more straightforward one here. This is a liberal interpretation but it's my favourite.
I can feel that I have been changed, I feel that Shakes my body, paler I turn than grass is Nothing shows in front of my eyes, my ears areĪnd the sweat breaks running upon me, fever
#Sappho fragments meaning skin
Neath my skin the tenuous flame suffuses Let me only glance where you are, the voice dies,īut my lips are stricken to silence, under. Underneath my breast all the heart is shaken. Sits where he can look in your eyes, who listensĬlose to you, to hear the soft voice, its sweetness Second Alternate Translation Like the very gods in my sight is he who Grass is and appear to myself to be littleīut all must be endured, since even a poor [ Sets the heart to shaking inside my breast, sinceīut my tongue breaks down, and then all at once aĮyes can't see a thing and a whirring whistleĬold sweat covers me and a trembling takesĪhold of me all over: I'm greener than the Sweetness of your laughter: yes, that-I swear it. Listening from close by to the sweetness of your Since young brides have hearts that can be persuadedĮasily, light things, palpitant to passionĪnd whose lovely walk and the shining pallorĮyes than Lydia's chariots in all their gloryįragment 31 He seems to me equal to gods that manįor when I look at you, even a moment, no speakingīut all is to be dared, because even a person of poverty Īlternate Translation In my eyes he matches the gods, that man who Was remembered, after the Queen of Cyprus Not the thought of child nor beloved parents Plain to all, since she, who surpassed in beauty Some, men marching some would say ships but I say On the black earth is an array of horsemen Not for her children nor her dear parentsĪlternate Translation Some there are who say that the fairest thing seen Have done, do for me Queen, and let thyself tooįragment 16 Some men say an army of horse and some men say an army on footĪnd some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing Yea, if he love not soon shall he begin toĬome to me now too, and from tyrannous sorrowįree me, and all things that my soul desires to Yea, if he take not gifts, he soon shall give them
Yea, for if now he shun, he soon shall chase thee Whom mutt entangle to thy love, and who now, Soul: and whom now mutt I persuade, thou askedst, What thing I longed for to appease my frantic What was the woe that troubled me, and wherefore Smiling with clear undying eyes, didst ask me Quickly they came like light, and thou, blest lady, Over dark earth with multitudinous fluttering, Thou didst incline, and listenedst to my crying,Īnd from thy father’s palace down descendingĬhariot yoked: thee fair swift flying sparrows Tame not my soul with heavy woe, dread mistress,īut hither come, if ever erst of old time Wile-weaving daughter of high Zeus, I pray thee
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