Stung with Love: Poems and Fragments of Sappho

by Sappho

Since form and content are inseparable, the translator must find not only appropriate words for the original words but an appropriate form for the original form.

I wanted my translations to be real poems in their own right which, when read aloud, would replicate the aural pleasure of their originals. Scholars have argued that Sappho’s language is a form of enchantment, and I have tried to weave a similar rich and bewitching texture of sound.

With your soft hands, crown yourself with a lovely diadem Because the blessèd Graces grant gifts to the garlanded And snub the worshipper with no flowers on her head.

Leaving for good after a good long cry, She said: ‘We both have suffered terribly, But, Sappho, it is hard to say goodbye.’

Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes.

Some call ships, infantry or horsemen The greatest beauty earth can offer; I say it is whatever a person Most lusts after.

…and I think of Anaktoria Far away,… And I would rather watch her body Sway, her glistening face flash dalliance Than Lydian war cars at the ready And armed battalions.

I declare That later on, Even in an age unlike our own, Someone will remember who we are.