Sappho Modern English Translations, Poetry, Epigrams, Fragments, Quotations, Bio, Analysis

The HyperTexts

Sappho: The Longer Poems
with modern English translations

Because most of the poems of Sappho exist today only in fragments, and because Sappho's translators have been quite "inventive" about imagining what she may have meant to say, we can easily lose sight of the real Sappho. With this page, I have taken the approach of offering the most complete longer poems of Sappho first, so that readers can get a better "feel" for her, before offering the more fragmentary ones. The longer poems of Sappho, which remain more or less intact, include her "Hymn to Aphrodite" and the world's first "make love, not war" poem. That innovative endeavor makes Sappho a poet 2,500 years ahead of her time ... and perhaps still ahead of ours.

Who was Sappho of Lesbos? Sappho was arguably the first great lyric poet of antiquity. She is known especially for her "Sapphics"―love poems and songs―some of which are considered to be bisexual in nature, others lesbian (a term derived from the name of her island home, Lesbos). But was Sappho just another love poet, or was she the Love Poet? According to Margaret Reynolds: "Certainly Sappho seems to have been an original inventor of the language of sexual desire." I will also make the case that she was the first modern poet, for reasons to be revealed ...

Gleyre Le Coucher de Sappho by Marc-Charles-Gabriel Gleyre

THE LONGER POEMS OF SAPPHO OF LESBOS

Unfortunately, the only completely intact poem left by Sappho is her "Ode to Aphrodite" or "Hymn to Aphrodite" (an interesting synchronicity since Sappho is best known as a love poet and Aphrodite was the ancient Greek goddess of love). However, "That man is peer of the gods" and the first poem below, variously titled “The Anactoria Poem,” “Helen’s Eidolon” and “Some People Say ...” are largely intact. Was Sappho the author of the world's first "make love, not war" poem?

Sappho, fragment 16 (Lobel-Page 16 / Diehl 27a, 27b / Cox 3 / Voigt 16 )
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Warriors on rearing chargers,
columns of infantry,
fleets of warships:
some call these the dark earth's redeeming visions.
But I say—
the one I desire.

Nor am I unique,
since she who surpassed all mortals in beauty
—Helen—
seduced by Aphrodite, led astray by desire,
departed for distant Troy,
abandoned her celebrated husband,
turned her back on her parents and child!

Her story reminds me of Anactoria,
who has also departed,
and whose lively dancing and lovely face
I would rather see than all the horsemen and war-chariots of the Lydians,
or their columns of infantry parading in flashing armor.

Sappho's longer poem below survives "only because the ancient critic Longinus quoted it as a supreme example of poetic intensity." In On the Sublime, an ancient work of literary criticism, Longinus spoke with admiration of Sappho's ability to communicate longing: "Are you not amazed at how she evokes soul, body, hearing, tongue, sight, skin, as though they were external and belonged to someone else? And how at one and the same moment she both freezes and burns, is irrational and sane, is terrified and nearly dead, so that we observe in her not a single emotion but a whole concourse of emotions? Such things do, of course, commonly happen to people in love. Sappho’s supreme excellence lies in the skill with which she selects the most striking and vehement circumstances of the passions and forges them into a coherent whole." The poem has been translated—either in whole or in part—into Latin by Catullus, into French by Jean Racine and Pierre de Ronsard, and into English by a host of poets including John Addison, Mary Barnard, Willis Barnstone, Basil Bunting, Michael R. Burch, Lord Byron, Anne Carson, Guy Davenport, Jeffrey Duban, A. S. Kline, Richmond Lattimore, Robert Lowell, Ambrose Philips (perhaps the best of the lot), Jim Powell, Diane Rayor, Paul Roche, Sir Philip Sidney, Tobias Smollett, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Peter Whigham, William Carlos Williams and Louis & Celia Zukovsky.

Sappho, fragment 31 (Lobel-Page 31 / Voigt 31 / Gallavotti 2 / Diehl 2 / Bergk 2)
by William Carlos Williams

That man is peer of the gods, who
face to face sits listening
to your sweet speech and lovely
     laughter.

It is this that rouses a tumult
in my breast. At mere sight of you
my voice falters, my tongue
     is broken.

Straightway, a delicate fire runs in
my limbs; my eyes
are blinded and my ears
     thunder.

Sweat pours out: a trembling hunts
me down. I grow
paler than grass and lack little
     of dying.

***********************

Three Letters to Anaktoria
by Robert Lowell

I set that man above the gods and heroes —
all day, he sits before you face to face,
like a cardplayer. Your elbow brushes his elbow —
if you should speak, he hears.

The touched heart madly stirs,
your laughter is water hurrying over pebbles —
every gesture is a proclamation,
every sound is speech ...

Refining fire purifies my flesh!
I hear you: a hollowness in my ears
thunders and stuns me. I cannot speak.
I cannot see.

I shiver. A dead whiteness spreads over
my body, trickling pinpricks of sweat.
I am greener than the greenest green grass —
I die!

******************

Sappho, fragment 31
by Sir Philip Sidney

My muse, what ails this ardour?
My eyes grow dim, my limbs shake,
My voice is hoarse, my throat scorched,
My tongue to its roof cleaves,
My fancy amazed, my thoughts dull’d,
My head doth ache, my life faints
My soul begins to take leave ...

******************

Sappho, fragment 31
excerpt from "Fatima"
by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

O Love, Love, Love! O withering might!
O sun, that from thy noonday height
Shudderest when I strain my sight,
Throbbing thro' all thy heat and light,
Lo, falling from my constant mind,
Lo, parch'd and wither'd, deaf and blind,
I whirl like leaves in roaring wind.

********************

A Fragment of Sappho
translation by Ambrose Philips

BLESS'D as th' immortal gods is he,
The youth who fondly sits by thee,
And hears and sees thee all the while
Softly speak, and sweetly smile.

'Twas this depriv'd my soul of rest,
And rais'd such tumults in my breast,
For while I gaz'd, in transport toss'd,
My breath was gone, my voice was lost.

My bosom glow'd: the subtle flame
Ran quickly through my vital frame;
O'er my dim eyes a darkness hung,
My ears with hollow murmurs rung.

In dewy damps my limbs were chill'd.
My blood with gentle horrors thrill'd.
My feeble pulse forgot to play,
I fainted, sunk, and died away.

******************

Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

How can I compete with that damned man
who fancies himself one of the gods,
impressing you with his "eloquence" ...
when the thought of sitting in your radiant presence,
of hearing your lovely voice and lively laughter,
sets my heart hammering at my breast?
Hell, when I catch just a quick glimpse of you,
I'm left speechless, tongue-tied,
and immediately a blush like a delicate flame reddens my skin.
Then my vision dims with tears,
my ears ring,
I sweat profusely,
and every muscle in my body trembles.
When the blood finally settles,
I grow paler than summer grass,
till in my exhausted madness,
I'm as limp as the dead.
And yet I must risk all, being bereft without you ...

******************

Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 31
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

To me that boy seems
blessed by the gods
because he sits beside you,
basking in your brilliant presence.

My heart races at the sound of your voice!
Your laughter?—bright water, dislodging pebbles
in a chaotic vortex. I can't catch my breath!
My heart bucks in my ribs. I can't breathe. I can't speak.

My breasts glow with intense heat;
desire's blush-inducing fires redden my flesh.
My ears seem hollow; they ring emptily.
My tongue is broken and cleaves to its roof.

I sweat profusely. I shiver.
Suddenly, I grow pale
and feel only a second short of dying.
And yet I must endure, somehow,

despite my poverty.

Ode to Attis or Ode to Anactoria
Sappho, fragment 94 (Lobel-Page 94 / Voigt 94 / Diehl 96 )
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My Attis has not returned
and so, let the truth be said,
I wish I were dead ...

"Honestly, I just want to die!"
she sighed,
shedding heartfelt tears,
inconsolably sad
when she abandoned me.

"How deeply we have loved,
we two,
Sappho!
Oh,
I really don't want to go!"

I answered her tenderly,
"Go as you must
and be happy,
trust-
ing your remembrance of me,
for you know how much I loved you.

And if you begin to forget,
please try to recall
all
the heavenly emotions we felt
as with many wreathes of violets,
roses and crocuses
you sat beside me
adorning your delicate neck.

Once garlands had been fashioned of many woven flowers,
with much expensive myrrh
we anointed our bodies like royalty
on soft couches,
then my tender caresses
fulfilled your desire ..."

Unfortunately, fragment 94 has several gaps and thus I have tried to imagine what Sappho might have been saying.

A Hymn to Venus
from the Greek of Sappho
Ambrose Philips

O Venus, beauty of the skies,
To whom a thousand temples rise,
Gaily false in gentle smiles,
Full of love-perplexing wiles;
O goddess, from my heart remove
The wasting cares and pains of love.

If ever thou hast kindly heard
A song in soft distress preferred,
Propitious to my tuneful vow,
O gentle goddess, hear me now.
Descend, thou bright immortal guest,

In all thy radiant charms confessed.
Thou once didst leave almighty Jove
And all the golden roofs above;
The car thy wanton sparrows drew,
Hovering in air they lightly flew;
As to my bower they winged their way
I saw their quivering pinions play.

The birds dismissed (while you remain)
Bore back their empty car again:
Then you, with looks divinely mild,
In every heavenly feature smiled,
And asked what new complaints I made,
And why I called you to my aid?

What frenzy in my bosom raged,
And by what cure to be assuaged?
What gentle youth I would allure,
Whom in my artful toils secure?
Who does thy tender heart subdue,
Tell me, my Sappho, tell me who?

Though now he shuns thy longing arms,
He soon shall court thy slighted charms;
Though now thy offerings he despise,
He soon to thee shall sacrifice;
Though now he freeze, he soon shall burn,
And be thy victim in his turn.

Celestial visitant, once more
Thy needful presence I implore.
In pity come, and ease my grief,
Bring my distempered soul relief,
Favour thy suppliant's hidden fires,
And give me all my heart desires.

*****************************

Hymn to Aphrodite (Lobel-Page 1)
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Immortal Aphrodite, throned in splendor!
Wile-weaving daughter of Zeus, enchantress and beguiler!
I implore you, dread mistress, discipline me no longer
with such vigor!

But come to me once again in kindness,
heeding my prayers, as you did so graciously before;
O, come Divine One, descend once more
from heaven's golden dominions!

Then with your chariot yoked to love's
white consecrated doves,
their multitudinous pinions aflutter,
you came gliding from heaven's shining heights,
to this dark gutter.

Swiftly they came and vanished, leaving you,
O my Goddess, smiling, your face eternally beautiful,
asking me what unfathomable longing compelled me
to cry out.

Asking me what I sought in my bewildered desire.
Asking, "Who has harmed you, why are you so alarmed,
my poor Sappho? Whom should Persuasion
summon here?"

"Although today she flees love, soon she will pursue you;
spurning love's gifts, soon she shall give them;
tomorrow she will woo you,
however unwillingly!"

Come to me now, O most Holy Aphrodite!
Free me now from my heavy heartache and anguish!
Graciously grant me all I request!
Be once again my ally and protector!

"Hymn to Aphrodite" is the only poem by Sappho of Lesbos to survive in its entirety. The poem survived intact because it was quoted in full by Dionysus, a Roman orator, in his "On Literary Composition," published around 30 B.C. A number of Sappho's poems mention or are addressed to Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love. It is believed that Sappho may have belonged to a cult that worshiped Aphrodite with songs and poetry. If so, "Hymn to Aphrodite" may have been composed for performance within the cult. However, we have few verifiable details about the "real" Sappho, and much conjecture based on fragments of her poetry and what other people said about her, in many cases centuries after her death. We do know, however, that she was held in very high regard. For instance, when Sappho visited Syracuse the residents were so honored they erected a statue to commemorate the occasion! During Sappho's lifetime, coins of Lesbos were minted with her image. Furthermore, Sappho was called "the Tenth Muse" and the other nine were goddesses. Here is another translation of the same poem ...

*****************

Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Rainbow-appareled, immortal-throned Aphrodite,
daughter of Zeus, wile-weaver, I beseech you: Hail!
Spare me your reproaches and chastisements.
Do not punish, dire Lady, my penitent soul!

But come now, descend, favor me with your presence.
Please hear my voice now beseeching, however unclear or afar,
your own dear voice, which is Olympus’s essence —
golden, wherever you are ...

Begging you to harness your sun-chariot’s chargers —
those swift doves now winging you above the black earth,
till their white pinions whirring bring you down to me from heaven
through earth’s middle air ...

Suddenly they arrived, and you, O my Blessed One,
smiling with your immortal countenance,
asked what hurt me, and for what reason
I cried out ...

And what did I want to happen most
in my crazed heart? "Whom then shall Persuasion
bring to you, my dearest? Who,
Sappho, hurts you?”

“For if she flees, soon will she follow;
and if she does not accept gifts, soon she will give them;
and if she does not love, soon she will love
despite herself!"

Come to me now, relieve my harsh worries,
free me heart from its anguish,
and once again be
my battle-ally!

Sappho, fragment 2 (Lobel-Page 2 / Voigt 2 / Diehl 5, 6 / Bergk 4, 5)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, Cypris, from Crete
to meet me at this holy temple
where a lovely grove of apples awaits our presence
bowering altars
                       fuming with frankincense.

Here brisk waters babble beneath apple branches,
the grounds are overshadowed by roses,
and through the flickering leaves
                                                 enchantments shimmer.

Here the horses will nibble flowers
as we gorge on apples
and the breezes blow
                                honey-sweet with nectar ...

Here, Cypris, we will gather up garlands,
pour the nectar gracefully into golden cups
and with gladness
                           commence our festivities.

The Brothers Poem
by Sappho
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

... but you’re always prattling about Kharaxos
returning with his ship's hold full. As for that,
Zeus and the gods alone know, so why indulge
idle fantasies?

Rather release me, since I am commending
numerous prayers to mighty Queen Hera,
asking that his undamaged ship safely returns
Kharaxos to us.

Then we will have serenity. As for
everything else, leave it to the gods
because calm seas often follow
sudden squalls

and those whose fortunes the gods transform
from unmitigated disaster into joy
have received a greater blessing
than prosperity.

Furthermore, if Larikhos raises his head
from this massive depression, we shall
see him become a man, lift ours and
stand together.

Sappho, fragment 58 (Lobel-Page 58 / West (2004) / Bergk 79?)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Virgins, be zealous for the violet-scented Muses' lovely gifts
and those of the melodious lyre ...
but my once-supple skin sags now;
my arthritic bones creak;
my ravenblack hair's turned white;
my lighthearted heart's grown heavy;
my knees buckle;
my feet, once fleet as fawns, fail the dance.

I often bemoan my fate ... but what's the use?
Not to grow old is, of course, not an option.

I am reminded of Tithonus, adored by Dawn with her arms full of roses,
who, overwhelmed by love, carried him off beyond death's dark dominion.
Handsome for a day, but soon withered with age,
he became an object of pity to his ageless wife.

Κατθάνοισα δὲ κείσεαι πότα, κωὐ μναμοσύνα σέθεν
ἔσσετ᾽ οὔτε τότ᾽ οὔτ᾽ ύ᾽στερον. οὐ γὰρ πεδέχεισ βρόδοων
τῶν ἐκ Πιερίασ ἀλλ᾽ ἀφάνησ κἠν᾽ ᾽Αῖδα δόμοισ
φοιτάσεισ πεδ᾽ ἀμαύρων νέκυων ἐκπεποταμένα.

Sappho, fragment 55 (Lobel-Page 55 / Voigt 55 / Diehl 58 / Bergk 68 / Cox 65)
by H. T. Wharton

But thou shalt ever lie dead,
nor shall there be any remembrance of thee then or thereafter,
for thou hast not of the roses of Pieria;
but thou shalt wander obscure even in the house of Hades,
flitting among the shadowy dead.

Sappho, fragment 55 (Lobel-Page 55 / Voigt 55 / Diehl 58 / Bergk 68 / Cox 65)
by Thomas Hardy

     Dead shalt thou lie; and nought
     Be told of thee or thought,
For thou hast plucked not of the Muses' tree:
     And even in Hades' halls
     Amidst thy fellow-thralls
No friendly shade thy shade shall company!

Sappho, fragment 55 (Lobel-Page 55 / Voigt 55 / Diehl 58 / Bergk 68 / Cox 65)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded,
as your worm-eaten corpse like your corpus degrades;
for those who never gathered Pieria's roses
must mutely accept how their memory fades
as they flit among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

2.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded,
as your worm-eaten corpse like your verse degrades;
for those who never gathered Pierian roses
must mutely accept how their reputation fades
among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

3.
Lady,
soon you'll lie dead, disregarded;
then imagine how quickly your reputation fades ...
when you who never gathered the roses of Pieria
mutely assume your place
among the obscure, uncelebrated
Hadean shades.

"Quoted by Stobaeus about A.D. 500 as addressed to a woman of no education. Plutarch also quotes this fragment, twice in fact, once as if written to a rich woman, and again when he says that the crown of roses was assigned to the Muses, for he remembers that Sappho had said these same words to some uneducated woman."―Edwin Marion Cox

THE POETIC FRAGMENTS OF SAPPHO OF LESBOS

Was Sappho the first great Romantic poet, two millennia before Blake, Burns, Byron, Coleridge, Wordsworth, Shelley and Keats? Was she the first modern poet as well? Perhaps, because according to J. B. Hare, "Sappho had the audacity to use the first person in poetry and to discuss deep human emotions, particularly the erotic, in ways that had never been approached by anyone before her." Before Sappho, poetry was primarily used for ceremonial, religious and storytelling purposes. But Sappho used poetry to explore herself and her relationships with others. She laid herself bare in ways that other poets would also do―given two thousand years to catch up! Today, when we hear songwriters like Bob Dylan, Prince, Adele and Taylor Swift baring their souls, we are surely hearing echoes of the first great lyric poet, Sappho of Lesbos. Sappho wrote the first "make love, not war" poem 2,500 years ahead of her time (see fragment 16: "Warriors on rearing chargers"). I believe she sounds surprisingly modern and relevant in fragment 156 (immediately below), in the one about a woman basing her worth on a ring (fragment 36), and many others. Better yet, Sappho never sounds dated, unless her translators turn her into a Victorian, which I have attempted not to do myself.—Michael R. Burch

Included on this page are translations and tributes by contemporary poets and such highly-regarded writers of the past as Anacreon, Apollonius, Catullus, Longinus, Menander, Plato, Ovid, Plutarch, Sophocles, Sir Philip Sidney, Ben Jonson, Ambrose Philips, Lord Byron, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Felicia Dorothea Hemans Browne, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, Charles Algernon Swinburne, Lord Alfred Tennyson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, A. E. Housman, Thomas Hardy, Walter Savage Landor, William Butler Yeats, T. S. Eliot, Robert Lowell, Sara Teasdale and William Carlos Williams.

Unfortunately, the only completely intact poem left by Sappho is her "Ode to Aphrodite" and thus Sappho is remembered today primarily for her epigrammatic "fragments" and the efforts of her many translators to restore them. In some cases a fragment consists of just a word or two, and the translator/interpreter must provide the rest ...

Sappho, fragment 155
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A short revealing frock?
It's just my luck
your lips were made to mock!

(Pollux wrote: "Sappho used the word beudos [Βεῦδοσ] for a woman's dress, a kimbericon, a kind of short transparent frock.")

Sappho, fragment 156
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

She keeps her scents
in a dressing-case.
And her sense?
In some undiscoverable place.

(Phrynichus wrote: "Sappho calls a woman's dressing-case, where she keeps her scents and such things, grutê [γρύτη].")

compiled by Michael R. Burch

Sappho Described in Her Own Words

Sappho may have described herself best, in her own words, as parthenon aduphonon, "the sweet-voiced girl." According to Plutarch, Sappho's art was like "sweet-voiced songs healing love." Today we speak of "sweet singers." Well, Sappho may have been the first, and she certainly remains one of the very best ...

Ἔρος δαὖτ’ ἐτίναξεν ἔμοι φρένας,
ἄνεμος κατ’ ὄρος δρύσιν ἐμπέσων.

Sappho, fragment 47 (Lobel-Page 47 / Voigt 47 / Diehl 50 / Bergk 42 / Cox 40)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros harrows my heart:
wild winds whipping desolate mountains,
uprooting oaks.

The poem above is my favorite Sappho epigram. The metaphor of Eros (sexual desire) harrowing mountain slopes, leveling oaks and leaving them desolate, is really something―truly powerful and evocative. According to Edwin Marion Cox, this Sapphic epigram was "Quoted by Maximus Tyrius about 150 B.C. He speaks of Socrates exciting Phaedus to madness, when he speaks of love."

Sappho, fragment 50 (Lobel-Page 130 / Diehl 137 / Voigt 130 / Bergk 40)
by D. A. Campbell

Once again limb-loosening Love makes me tremble,
the bitter-sweet, irresistible creature.

Sappho, fragment 50 (Lobel-Page 130 / Diehl 137 / Voigt 130 / Bergk 40)
by Jim Powell

Eros limbslackener shakes me again—
that sweet, bitter, impossible creature.

Sappho, fragment 50 (Lobel-Page 130 / Diehl 137 / Voigt 130 / Bergk 40)
by J. Addington Symonds

Lo, Love once more, the limb-dissolving King,
The bitter-sweet impracticable thing,
Wild-beast-like rends me with fierce quivering.

Sappho, fragment 130 (Lobel-Page 130 / Diehl 137 / Voigt 130 / Bergk 40)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros, the limb-shatterer,
rattles me,
an irresistible
constrictor.

Sappho, fragment 22 (Lobel-Page 22 / Diehl 33, 36)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

That enticing girl's clinging dresses
leave me trembling, overcome by happiness,
as once, when I saw the Goddess in my prayers
eclipsing Cyprus.

Sappho Biography: A Brief History of the First Major Lyric Poet

One of the best and most famous poets of antiquity was a woman, Sappho, who has been called the Tenth Muse, the Pride of Hellas, the Flower of the Graces and the Companion of Apollo (the god of Poetry). She was also called simply The Poetess, just as William Shakespeare is call The Bard (i.e., as if they have no competition).

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine;
A tenth is Lesbian Sappho, maid divine.
—Plato, translated by Lord Neaves

Mnemosyne was stunned into astonishment when she heard honey-tongued Sappho,
wondering how mortal men merited a tenth Muse.
—Antipater of Sidon (circa 200 BC), translated by Michael R. Burch

When her ancient Greek peers nominated Sappho to be the Tenth Muse, they were apparently elevating her above all other poets up to their era. By Plato's time, the poets Sappho leapfrogged would have included Homer, Archilochus, Alcman, Alcaeus, Anacreon, Pindar, Simonides, Sophocles, Aesop, Euripides and Aristophanes. That's pretty heady company! But who was Sappho, and was she really that good?

Sappho was born around 630 B.C. on the island of Lesbos and lived there in the port city of Mytilene. It is believed that she came from a wealthy family and had three brothers, two of whom are named in her poems. It is also believed that she was married and had a daughter named Cleïs. Sappho was apparently exiled to Sicily around 600 B.C. and may have continued to live there until her death around 570 B.C. Not much else is known about her, other than what can be gleaned from her poems and from what other classical authors wrote about her. However, Sappho's poems are mostly fragments and much of what was written about her came long after her own day and may not be accurate. For instance, her father was given ten different names! We do know, however, that Sappho and her poetry were highly esteemed.

Sappho's specialty was lyric poetry, so-called because it was either recited or sung to the accompaniment of the lyre (a harp-like instrument). "She is a mortal marvel" wrote Antipater of Sidon, before proceeding to catalog the seven wonders of the world. Plato numbered her among the wise. Plutarch said that the grace of her poems acted on audiences like an enchantment, so that when he read her poems he set aside his drinking cup in shame. Strabo called her "something wonderful," saying he knew of "no woman who in any, even the least degree, could be compared to her for poetry." Solon so loved one of her songs that he remarked, "I just want to learn it and die." Sappho was so highly regarded that her face graced six different ancient coins. But perhaps the greatest testimony to her talent and enduring fame is the long line of poets who have paid homage to her over the centuries.

Why do so few complete poems by such a great poet remain today? As J. B. Hare explains, "Sappho's books were burned by Christians in the year 380 A.D. at the instigation of Pope Gregory Nazianzen. Another book burning in the year 1073 A.D. by Pope Gregory VII may have wiped out any remaining trace of her works. It should be remembered that in antiquity books were copied by hand and comparatively rare. There may have only been a few copies of her complete works. The bonfires of the Church destroyed many things, but among the most tragic of their victims were the poems of Sappho."

Most of Sappho's poems have been lost, but some have endured through surviving fragments (a few were found wrapping Egyptian mummies!). Other poets have sought to "fill in the blanks" because of the 189 known fragments of her work, twenty contain just one readable word, thirteen have only two, and fifty-nine have ten or fewer. Because there is no single agreed-upon numbering system for Sappho's fragments, different poems below may be assigned the same number, if the translators used different systems of enumeration. When the original Greek appears, it appears above the corresponding translations.

Contemporary translators of Sappho include Mary Barnard, Willis Barnstone, Michael R. Burch, D. A. Campbell, Anne Carson, Cid Corman, Edwin Marion Cox, J. V. Cunningham, Guy Davenport, Julia Dubnoff, J. M. Edmonds, Christina Farella, Anita George, Conor Kelly, A. S. Kline, Richmond Lattimore, Thomas McEvilley, Andrew M. Miller, Aaron Poochigian, Jim Powell, Diane J. Rayor, Kenneth Rexroth, J. Addington Symonds and M. L. West. Why are there so many translations of Sappho, despite the fact that most of her poems came down to us in fragments? As we will see, she was regarded by the ancients as the Tenth Muse (a Goddess!) and―literally―as a wonder of the ancient world. Sappho blew away her audiences, the way Elvis Presley, Little Richard, the Beatles and Tina Turner blew away audiences during the early days of rock 'n' roll. And Sappho was also a musician, as her poems were either chanted or sung to the strummings of the lyre, a harp-like instrument. After all, that's where the term "lyric" originated ...

Sapphic inscription on a long-stemmed cup in an Athens museum

Mere air,
my words' fare,
but intoxicating to hear.
—loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The Sapphic epigram above reminds me of William Butler Yeats, the great Irish poet, who said of his poetry: "I made it out of a mouthful of air."

The fragment below seems to be one of the most popular with translators ...

Μὴ κίνη χέραδασ.

Sappho, fragment 108 (Lobel-Page 145 / 113D / Cox 108)

If you're squeamish, don't prod the beach rubble.―Mary Barnard
If you dont like trouble dont disturb sand.―Cid Corman
Don't stir the trash.―Guy Davenport
Let sleeping turds lie!―Michael R. Burch
Stir not the pebbles!―Andrew Alexandre Owie
do not move stones―Anne Carson

"From the Scholiast on Apollonius Rhodius. Χεράδεσ were little heaps of stone."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 10
translation by Julia Dubnoff

I desire
And I crave.

Sappho, fragment 10
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I lust!
I crave!
Fuck me!

Sappho, fragment 24 (Voigt 24.2-4)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Don't you remember, in days long gone,
how we did such things, being young?

2.
Don't you remember, in days bygone,
how we did such things, being young?

3.
Remember? In our youth
we too did such reckless things.

καὶ ποθήω καὶ μάομαι ...

Sappho, fragment 3
excerpt from "To Constantia, Singing"
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

My brain is wild, my breath comes quick,—
The blood is listening in my frame,
And thronging shadows, fast and thick,
Fall on my overflowing eyes:
My heart is quivering like a flame;
As morning dew, that in the sunbeam dies,
I am dissolved in these consuming ecstasies.

Felicia Hemans and Percy Bysshe Shelley were born a year apart, looked enough alike to be brother and sister, and were both child prodigies: she was published at age fourteen; he entered Eton College at age twelve and was said to have only attended one lecture, preferring to read sixteen hours per day and perform scientific experiments that earned him the nickname "Mad Shelley." Another thing they had in common was a taste and appreciation for Sappho ...

An Excerpt from "The Last Song of Sappho"
by Felicia Hemans Browne

SOUND on, thou dark unslumbering sea!
     My dirge is in thy moan;
     My spirit finds response in thee,
To its own ceaseless cry–'Alone, alone!'

Love, from whom the sea is sweet,
from whom the sea is bitterer than death.
— Sara Teasdale, from Helen of Troy & Other Poems; “Sappho,” wr. c. 1928

Sappho, fragment 48
by Charles Algernon Swinburne

I am weary of all your words and soft, strange ways.

Ἄγε δὴ χέλυ δῖά μοι φωνάεσσα γένοιο.

Sappho, fragment 118 (Voigt 118 / Cox 42)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Sing, my sacred tortoiseshell lyre;
come, let my words
accompany your voice.

"Quoted by Hermogenes and Eustathius. Sappho is apparently addressing her lyre. The legend is that Hermes is supposed to have made the first lyre by stretching the strings across the cavity of a tortoise's shell."―Edwin Marion Cox

NOTE: I seem to remember the term "sacred tortoiseshell lyre" appearing in another translation of Sappho, but I have not been able to find the translation or translator's name to give proper credit. Cox used the term "divine shell" in his translation and mentioned the shell belonging to a tortoise in his notes, so it seems like a reasonable interpretation.―MRB

As J. B. Hare, one of her translators, said, "Sappho the poet was an innovator. At the time poetry was principally used in ceremonial contexts, and to extoll the deeds of brave soldiers. Sappho had the audacity to use the first person in poetry and to discuss deep human emotions, particularly the erotic, in ways that had never been approached by anyone before her. As for the military angle, in one of the longer fragments (#3) she says: 'Some say that the fairest thing upon the dark earth is a host of horsemen, and some say a host of foot soldiers, and others again a fleet of ships, but for me it is my beloved.' In the ancient world she was considered to be on an equal footing with Homer, and was acclaimed as the 'tenth muse.'"

It is because of the homoerotic nature of certain of Sappho's poems that "Lesbian" and "Sapphic" have their current sexual denotations and connotations. Many of her poems are about her female companions, but are suggestive rather than graphically sexual. For instance:

Sappho, fragment 3 (Lobel-Page 160 / Diehl 11 / Cox 11)
by Julia Dubnoff

Now, I shall sing these songs
Beautifully
for my companions.

"Athanaeus quotes this to show that there is not necessarily any reproach in the word ἐταίραι. Like many others, the fragment is unfortunately too short for anything but a literal translation. The breathing of the word in question in Attic Greek would of course be rough."―Edwin Marion Cox

ka;t e[mon ıtavlugmon

Sappho, fragment 58
by Mary Barnard

Pain penetrates
Me drop
by drop

Sappho, fragment 58
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Pain
drains
me
to
the
last
drop
.

Γλύκεια μᾶτερ, οὔτοι δύναμαι κρέκην τὸν ἴστον,
πόθῳ δάμεισα παῖδος βραδίναν δι’ Ἀφρόδιταν

Sappho, fragment 90 (Lobel-Page 102 / Voigt 102 / Diehl 114 / Bergk 90 / Cox 87)
by Walter Savage Landor

Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh, if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, whoever felt as I?

Sappho, fragment 102 (Lobel-Page 102 / Voigt 102 / Diehl 114 / Bergk 90 / Cox 87)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Mother, how can I weave,
so overwhelmed by love?

Sappho, fragment 90 (Lobel-Page 102 / Voigt 102 / Diehl 114 / Bergk 90 / Cox 87)
by Mary Barnard

It’s no use

Mother dear, I
can’t finish my
weaving
            You may
blame Aphrodite

soft as she is

she has almost
killed me with
love for that boy

Sappho, fragment 90 (Lobel-Page 102 / Voigt 102 / Diehl 114 / Bergk 90 / Cox 87)
by Frederick Tennyson

Sweet mother, I can spin no more,
Nor ply the loom as heretofore,
For love of him.

"Quoted by Hephaestion as an example of metre."―Edwin Marion Cox

Ἠμιτύβιον σταλάσσον.

Sappho, unnumbered fragment
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

All mixed up, I drizzled.

Μνάσεσθαί τινά φαμι καὶ ὔστερον ἄμμεων

Sappho, fragment 29 (Lobel-Page 147 / Cox 30)
by J. V. Cunningham

Someone, I insist, will remember us!

Sappho, fragment 29 (Lobel-Page 147 / Cox 30)
by Edwin Marion Cox

I think men will remember us hereafter.

Sappho, fragment 147 (Lobel-Page 147 / Cox 30)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Someone, somewhere
will remember us,
I swear!

"From Dio Chrysostom, who, writing about A.D. 100, remarks that this is said 'with perfect beauty.'"―Edwin Marion Cox

Αἴθ᾽ ἔγο χρυσοστέφαν᾽ Ἀφρόδιτα, τόνδε τὸν πάλον λαχόην.

Sappho, fragment 33 (Lobel-Page 33 / Diehl 9 / Bergk 9 / Cox 9)
by Edwin Marion Cox

May I win this prize, O golden-crowned Aphrodite!

"From Apollonius. Sappho invented many beautiful epithets to apply to Aphrodite, and this fragment contains one of them."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, unnumbered fragment
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

What cannot be swept
                                   aside
must be wept.

Sappho, fragment 34 (Lobel-Page 34 / Voigt 34 / Diehl 4 (10?) / Bergk 3 / Cox 4)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You are,
of all the unapproachable stars,
by far
the fairest,
the brightest―
possessing the Moon's splendor.

2.
Awed by the Moon's splendor,
the stars covered their undistinguished faces.
Even so, we.

"Quoted by Eustathius of Thessalonica in the twelfth century."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 39
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're merely mortal women,
it's true;
the Goddesses have no rivals
but You.

Sappho, fragment 5
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

We're eclipsed here by your presence—
you outshine all the ladies of Lydia
as the bright-haloed moon outsplendors the stars.

Πσαύην δ᾽ οὐ δοκίμοιμ᾽ ὀράνω δύσι πάχεσιν.

Sappho, fragment 52 (Lobel-Page 52 / 47D / Cox 35)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

With my two small arms, how can I
think to encircle the sky?

Quoted by Herodian, according to Edwin Marion Cox.

Sappho, fragment 12 (Cox 12)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Those I charm the most
do me the most harm.

Sappho, fragment 154 (Lobel-Page 154 / 88D / Cox 49)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
The moon rose and we women
thronged it like an altar.

2.
All night long
lithe maidens thronged
at the altar of Love.

3.
Maidens throng
at the altar of Love
all night long.

4.
The moon shone, full
as the virgins ringed Love's altar ...

Sappho, fragment 2 (Lobel-Page 2.1A)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Leaving your heavenly summit,
I submit
to the mountain,
then plummet.

Sappho, fragment 129 (Lobel-Page 129 / 146D, 18D / Cox 21, 22, 23)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You forget me
or you love another more!
It's over.

According to Edwin Marion Cox, Apollonius quoted Sappho to show certain Aeolic word forms.

αμφὶ δ᾽ ὔδωρ ψῖχρον ὤνεμοσ κελάδει δἰ ὔσδων μαλίνων, αἰθυσσομένων δὲ φύλλων κῶμα κατάρρει.

Sappho, fragment 5 (Cox 5)
by Edwin Marion Cox

And by the cool stream the breeze murmurs through apple branches and slumber pours down from quivering leaves.

"This beautiful fragment is quoted by Hermogenes about A.D. 170. Demetrius, about A.D. 150, says that it is part of Sappho's description of the garden of the nymphs."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 137
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Gold does not rust,
yet my son becomes dust?

Ἄλλ᾽ ὄνμὴ μαγαλύννεο δακτυλίω πέρι.

Sappho, fragment 36 (Lobel-Page i.a. 5,2 / Diehl 45 / Cox 33)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Vain woman, foolish thing!
Do you base your worth on a ring?

"Mentioned by Herodian about A.D. 160."―Edwin Marion Cox

Μήτ’ ἔμοι μέλι μήτε μέλισσα.

Sappho, fragment 113 (Lobel-Page 146 / 52D / Cox 107)
loose translation/interpretation by Jim Powell

For me
neither the honey
nor the bee.

Sappho, fragment 146 (Lobel-Page 146 / 52D / Cox 107)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
No droning bee,
nor even the bearer of honey
for me!

2.
Neither the honey
nor the bee
for me!

"This is a proverb quoted by a number of late authors. It is an example of Sappho's successful use of alliteration."―Edwin Marion Cox

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.

Οὐκ οἶδ᾽ ὄττι θέω, δύο μοι τὰ νοήματα.

Sappho, fragment 51 (Lobel-Page 51 / 46D / Cox 34)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I'm undecided.
My mind? Torn. Divided.

2.
Unsure as a babe new-born,
My mind is divided, torn.

3.
I don't know what to do:
My mind is divided, two.

"Quoted about 220 B.C. by Chrysippus, the Stoic philosopher."―Edwin Marion Cox

Δέδυκε μεν ἀ σελάννα
καὶ Πληΐαδεσ, μέσαι δὲ
νύκτεσ πάρα δ᾽ ἔρχετ᾽ ὤρα,
ἔγω δὲ μόνα κατεύδω.

Sappho, fragment 52 (Voigt 168B / Diehl 94 / Cox 48)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Midnight.
The hours drone on
as I moan here, alone.

2.
The moon has long since set;
the Pleiades are gone;
now half the night is spent,
and yet
here I lie—alone.

Sappho, fragment 52 (Voigt 168B / Diehl 94 / Cox 48)
by Diane J. Rayor

The Moon and the Pleiades have set—
half the night is gone.
Time passes.
I sleep alone.

Sappho, fragment 52 (Voigt 168B / Diehl 94 / Cox 48)
by A. S. Kline

Midnight,
The hours flow on,
I lie, alone.

"This singularly beautiful fragment is quoted by Hephaestion as an example of metre. With the 'Hymn to Aphrodite' it was the first portion of the Poems of Sappho to be printed in 1554.―Edwin Marion Cox

Χαίροισα ηύμφα, χαιρέτω δ᾽ ὀ γάμβροσ.

Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

When the bride comes
let her train rejoice!

Οὐ γὰρ ἦν ἀτέρα παῖσ, ὦ γάμβρε, τοαύτα

Sappho, fragment 90 (Lobel-Page 113)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bridegroom,
was there ever a maid
so like a lovely heirloom?

Sappho, fragment 90
Epithalamium ["Happy Bridegroom"]
by A. E. Housman

Happy bridegroom, Hesper brings
All desired and timely things.
All whom morning sends to roam,
Hesper loves to lead them home.
Home return who him behold,
Child to mother, sheep to fold,
Bird to nest from wandering wide:
Happy bridegroom, seek your bride.

Sappho, fragment 133
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Of all the stars the fairest,
Hesperus,
Lead the maiden straight to the bridegroom's bed,
honoring Hera, the goddess of marriage.

Sappho, fragment 19
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anoint yourself
with the most exquisite perfume.

Sappho, fragment 120 (Lobel-Page 120 / 108D / Cox 69)
translation by Anne Carson

But I am not someone who likes to wound,
rather I have a quiet mind ...

Sappho, fragment 120 (Lobel-Page 120 / 108D / Cox 69)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I'm no resenter;
I have a childlike heart ...

2.
I'm not resentful;
I have the most childlike heart ...

Δαύοις ἀπάλας ἐτάρας
ἐν στήθεσιν …

Sappho, fragment 80 (Lobel-Page 126)
by Willis Barnstone

May you sleep on your tender girlfriend’s breast.

Sappho, fragment 126 (Lobel-Page 126)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

May your head rest
on the breast
of the tenderest guest.

Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Bridegroom, rest
on the tender breast
of the girl you love best.

Ἦῤ ἔτι παρθενίασ επιβάλλομαι;

Sappho, fragment 107 (Lobel-Page 107 / 53D/ Cox 99)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Is my real desire for maidenhood?

2.
Is there any synergy
in virginity?

Σὺ δὲ στεφάνοισ, α Δίκα περθέσαθ᾽ ἐράταισ φόβαισιν, ὄρπακασ ἀνήτοιο συν ῤραισ᾽ ἀπάλαισι χέψιν, ἐγάνθεσιν ἔκ γὰρ πέλεται καὶ χάριτοσ μακαιρᾶν μᾶλλον προτέρην, ἀστερφανώτοισι δ᾽ ἀπυστερέφονται.

Sappho, fragment 82 (Lobel-Page 82 / 80D / Cox 75)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Dica! Do not enter the presence of Goddesses ungarlanded!
First weave sprigs of dill with those delicate hands, if you desire their favor!

Sappho, fragment 75 (Lobel-Page 82 / 80D / Cox 75)
by Edwin Marion Cox

Do thou, O Dica, set garlands upon thy lovely hair,
weaving sprigs of dill with thy delicate hands;
for those who wear fair blossoms may surely stand first,
even in the presence of Goddesses who look without
favour upon those who come ungarlanded.

"Athenaeus quotes this fragment, saying that according to Sappho those who approach the gods should wear garlands, as beautiful things are acceptable to them."―Edwin Marion Cox

Ἕγω δὲ φίλημ᾽ ἀβροσύναν, καὶ μοι τὸ λάμπρον
ἔροσ ἀελίω καὶ τὸ κάλον λέλογχεν.

Sappho, fragment 76 (Lobel-Page 58.25-26 / Cox 76)
by H. T. Wharton

I love delicacy, and for me Love has the sun's splendour and beauty.

Sappho, fragment 76 (Lobel-Page 58.25-26 / Cox 76)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
I cherish extravagance,
intoxicated by Love's celestial splendor.

2.
I love the sensual
as I love the sun's ecstatic brilliance.

3.
I love the sensual
as I love the sun's splendor.

From Athenaeus, according to Edwin Marion Cox.

Ἦρος ἄγγελος ἰμερόφωνος ἀήδων.

Sappho, fragment 39 (Lobel-Page 136 / Diehl 121 / Cox 37)
by H. T. Wharton

Spring's messenger, the sweet-voiced nightingale.

Sappho, fragment 39 (Lobel-Page 136 / Diehl 121 / Cox 37)
by Ben Jonson, "The Sad Shepherd," Act II

The dear good angel of the spring,
The nightingale.

Sappho, fragment 39 (Lobel-Page 136 / Diehl 121 / Cox 37)
by Charles Algernon Swinburne, "Songs of the Springtides"

The tawny sweetwinged thing
Whose cry was but of Spring.

Sappho, fragment 39 (Lobel-Page 136 / Diehl 121 / Cox 37)
by Aaron Poochigian

Nightingale,
All you sing
Is desire;
You are the crier
Of coming spring.

Sappho, fragment 39 (Lobel-Page 136 / Diehl 121 / Cox 37)
by A. S. Kline

Nightingale, herald of spring
With a voice of longing …

Sappho, fragment 39 (Lobel-Page 136 / Diehl 121 / Cox 37)
by Jim Powell

spring’s messenger, the lovelyvoiced nightingale

"Quoted by the Scholiast on the Electra of Sophocles, 149, 'the nightingale is the messenger of Zeus, because it is the sign of spring.'"―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 104
by T. S. Eliot

At the violet hour, the evening hour that strives
Homeward, and brings the sailor home from sea,
The typist home at teatime, clears her breakfast, lights
Her stove, and lays out food in tins.

Δεῦρο δηὖτε Μοῖσαι χρύσιον λίποισαι.

Sappho, fragment 81 (Lobel-Page 127)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Assemble now, Muses, leaving golden landscapes!

Στᾶθι κἄντα φίλοσ,....
καὶ τὰν ἔπ᾽ ὄσσοισ ἀμπέτασον χάριν.

Sappho, fragment 138 (Lobel-Page 138 / Cox 27)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Darling, let me see your face;
unleash your eyes' grace.

2.
Turn to me, favor me
with your eyes' indulgence.

3.
Look me in the face,
           smile,
reveal your eyes' grace ...

"Athenaeus says that Sappho addressed this poem, of which this is a fragment, to a man famous for his physical beauty. It has also been suggested that the lines may have been addressed to Sappho's brother. It need not, however, necessarily be assumed that any particular person is meant."―Edwin Marion Cox

Ὄπταις ἄμμε

Sappho, fragment 11 (Cox 109)
by Diane J. Rayor

you scorch me

Sappho, fragment 11 (Cox 109)
by Conor Kelly

you sear me

Sappho, fragment 11 (Cox 109)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
You inflame me!

2.
You ignite and inflame me ...
You melt me.

Sappho, fragment 12
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I am an acolyte
of wile-weaving
Aphrodite.

Sappho, fragment 52 (Voigt 168B / Diehl 94 / Cox 48)
by A. E. Housman

X.

The weeping Pleiads wester,
  And the moon is under seas;
From bourn to bourn of midnight
  Far sighs the rainy breeze:
It sighs from a lost country
  To a land I have not known;
The weeping Pleiads wester,
  And I lie down alone.

XI.
The rainy Pleiads wester,
  Orion plunges prone;
The stroke of midnight ceases,
  And I lie down alone.
The rainy Pleiads wester
  And seek beyond the sea
The head that I shall dream of,
  And ’twill not dream of me.

Sappho, fragment 95 (Lobel-Page 104a / Voigt 104a / Diehl 120 / Bergk 95 / Cox 92)
by Lord Byron, "Don Juan"

O Hesperus, thou bringest all good things—
        Home to the weary, to the hungry cheer,
To the young bird the parent's brooding wings,
        The welcome stall to the o'erlaboured steer;
Whate'er of peace about our hearthstone clings,
        Whate'er our household gods protect of dear,
Are gathered round us by thy look of rest;
Thou bring'st the child too to its mother's breast.

Sappho, fragments 54, 94 & 16
by F. T. Palgrave

Sappho loves flowers with a personal sympathy.
"Cretan girls," she says, "with their soft feet dancing
lay flat the tender bloom of the grass."
She feels for the hyacinth
"which shepherds on the mountain tread under foot,
and the purple flower is on the ground."
She pities the wood-doves
as their "life grows cold and their wings fall"
before the archer.

Sappho, fragment 146
by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Song of the Rose

If Zeus chose us a king of the flowers in his mirth,
He would call to the Rose and would royally crown it,
For the Rose, ho, the Rose, is the grace of the earth,
Is the light of the plants that are growing upon it.

For the Rose, ho, the Rose, is the eye of the flowers,
Is the blush of the meadows that feel themselves fair—
Is the lightning of beauty that strikes through the bowers
On pale lovers who sit in the glow unaware.

Ho, the Rose breathes of love! Ho, the Rose lifts the cup
To the red lips of Cypris invoked for a guest!
Ho, the Rose, having curled its sweet leaves for the world,
Takes delight in the motion its petals keep up,
As they laugh to the wind as it laughs from the west!

αμφὶ δ᾽ ὔδωρ
ψῖχρον ὤνεμοσ κελάδει δἰ ὔσδων
μαλίνων, αἰθυσσομένων δὲ φύλλων
κῶμα κατάρρει.

Sappho, fragments 93 & 94 (Lobel-Page 105a / Voigt 105a / Diehl 116 / Bergk 93 / Cox 90)
by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Beauty

I.
Like the sweet apple which reddens upon the topmost bough,
A-top on the topmost twig,—which the pluckers forgot, somehow,—
Forgot it not, nay, but got it not, for none could get it till now.

II.
Like the wild hyacinth flower which on the hills is found,
Which the passing feet of the shepherds for ever tear and wound,
Until the purple blossom is trodden into the ground.

Sappho, fragment 93 (Lobel-Page 105a / Voigt 105a / Diehl 116 / Bergk 93 / Cox 90)
by Stanley Lombardo

Like the sweet apple reddening on the topmost branch,
the topmost apple on the tip of the branch,
      and the pickers forgot it,
well, no, they didn’t forget, they just couldn’t reach it.

Sappho, fragment 105 (Lobel-Page 105a / Voigt 105a / Diehl 116 / Bergk 93 / Cox 90)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You're the sweetest apple reddening on the highest bough,
which the harvesters missed, or forgot—somehow—
or perhaps they just couldn't reach you—then or now.

"Quoted by the Scholiast on Hermogenes and elsewhere. The 'sweetapple' to which Sappho refers was probably the result of a a graft of apple on quince."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 81
by J. H. Merivale

Wealth without virtue is a dangerous guest;
Who holds them mingled is supremely blest.

Sappho, fragment 145
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Prometheus the Fire-Bearer
robbed the Gods of their power
and so
brought mankind and himself to woe ...
must you repeat his error?

Sappho, fragment 159
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

May I lead?
Will you follow?
Foolish man!

Ears so hollow,
minds so shallow,
never can!

Sappho, fragments 122 & 123 (Lobel-Page 156)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
Your voice—
a sweeter liar
than the lyre,
more dearly bought
and sold,
than gold.

2.
Your voice?—
far more melodious than the lyre,
more dearly bought and sold
than gold.

Ἀμφὶ δ᾽ ἄβροισ λασίοισ εὖ ϝε πύκασσεν

Sappho, fragment 100 (Lobel-Page 100 / Diehl 85 / Cox 86)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
She wrapped herself then in
most delicate linen.

2.
She wrapped herself in
her most delicate linen.

"Pollux says that the line refers to finely woven linen."―Edwin Marion Cox

Τίσ δ᾽ ἀγροιῶτίσ τοι θέλγει νόον,
οὐκ ἐπισταμένα τὰ βράκἐ ἔλκην
      ἐπί τῶν σφύρων;

Sappho, fragment 57 (Lobel-Page 57 / 61D / Bergk 70 / Cox 67)
by Edwin Marion Cox

What rustic girl bewitches thee who knows not how to draw her dress about her ankles?

Sappho, fragment 57 (Lobel-Page 57 / 61D / Bergk 70 / Cox 67)
by Aaron Poochigian

What farm girl, garbed in fashions from the farm
And witless of the way
A hiked hem would display
Her ankles, captivates you with her charm?

Sappho, fragment 57 (Lobel-Page 57 / 61D / Bergk 70 / Cox 67)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
That country wench bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to seduce you with her naked ankles!

2.
That rustic girl bewitches your heart?
Hell, her most beguiling art's
hiking her dress
to seduce you with her ankles' nakedness!

"Athenaeus and others quote these lines."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 54 (Lobel-Page 54 / 56D / Cox 61)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Eros
descends from heaven,
discarding his imperial purple mantle.

᾽Αλλ᾽ ἔων φίλοσ ἄμμιν [ἄλλο] λέχοσ ἄρνυσω νεώτερον οὐ γὰρ τλάσομ᾽ ἔγω ξυνοίκην νεῳ γ᾽ ἔσσα γεραιτερα.

Sappho, fragment 121 (Lobel-Page 121 / Cox 72)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

1.
As a friend you're great,
but you need a younger bedmate.

2.
Although you're very dear to me
you need a much younger filly
because I'm far too old for you,
and this old mare's just not that damn silly.

From the anthology of Stobaeus, according to Edwin Marion Cox.

Sappho, after Anacreon
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Once again I dive into this fathomless ocean,
intoxicated by lust.

Did this epigram perhaps inspire the legend that Sappho leapt into the sea to her doom, over her despair for her love for the ferryman Phaon? See the following poem ...

The Legend of Sappho and Phaon, after Menander
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Some say Sappho was an ardent maiden
goaded by wild emotion
to fling herself from the white-frothed rocks of Leukas
into this raging ocean
for love of Phaon ...

but others reject that premise
and say it was Aphrodite, for love of Adonis.

In Menander's play The Leukadia he refers to a legend that Sappho flung herself from the White Rock of Leukas in pursuit of Phaon. We owe the preservation of those verses to Strabo, who cited them. Phaon appears in works by Ovid, Lucian and Aelian. He is also mentioned by Plautus in Miles Gloriosus as being one of only two men in the whole world, who "ever had the luck to be so passionately loved by a woman." Alas, not so lucky for Sappho!

Οἴαν τὰν ὐάκινθον ἐν οὔρεσι ποίμενεσ ἄνδρεσ.
πόσσι καταστείβοισι, χαμαι δ᾽ ἐπιπορφύρει ἄνθοσ.

Sappho, fragment 105c (Lobel-Page 105c / Voigt 105b / Diehl 117 / Bergk 93 / Cox 91)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Shepherds trample the larkspur
whose petals empurple the heath,
foreshadowing shepherds' grief.

Sappho, fragment 94 (Lobel-Page 105c / Voigt 105b / Diehl 117 / Bergk 93 / Cox 91)
by Edwin Marion Cox

O'er the hills the heedless shepherd,
Heavy footed, plods his way;
Crushed behind him lies the larkspur,
Soon empurpling in decay.

"Quoted by Demetrius, who comments on the ornament and beauty of the lines. Bergk was the first to assign the lines to Sappho. The last three words contain a picture of a crushed flower decaying on the ground, which would perhaps be impossible to put in so few words in any language but Greek. The Greek word ὐάκινθοσ does not mean the flower which at the present day is called 'hyacinth.' The Greek name was applied to several flowers of which one was almost certainly the larkspur, and another, as noted elsewhere, the iris."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 100
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The softest pallors grace
her lovely face.

Sappho, fragment 36 (Lobel-Page 36 / Cox 24)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I yearn for―I burn for―the one I miss!

According to Edwin Marion Cox, this fragment is from the "Etymologicum Magnum."

Sappho, fragment 30 (Lobel-Page 30.2-9)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Maidens, keeping vigil all night long,
go make a lovely song,
someday, out of desires you abide
for the violet-petalled bride.

Or better yet―arise, regale!
Go entice the eligible bachelors
so that we shocked elders
can sleep less than love-plagued nightingales!

Sappho, fragment 122 (Lobel-Page 122)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

A tender maiden plucking flowers
persuades the knave
to heroically brave
the world's untender hours.

Sappho, fragment 137
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Death is evil;
the Gods all agree;
for, had death been good,
the Gods would be mortal
like me.

Sappho, fragment 43
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, dear ones,
let us cease our singing:
morning dawns.

... κατ᾽ ἔμον στάλαγμον, τὸν δ᾽ ἐπιπλάζοντεσ ἄμοι φέροιεν καὶ μελεδώναισ.

Sappho, fragment 14 (Lobel-Page 37 / 14D / Wharton 17 / Cox 17)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Today
may
buffeting winds bear
all my distress and care
away.

Ἀρτίως μ’ ἀ χρυσοπέδιλλος Αὔως

Sappho, fragment 15 (Lobel-Page 123 / 15D / Cox 18)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Just now I was called,
enthralled,
by golden-sandalled
dawn...

Sappho, fragment 15 (Lobel-Page 123 / 15D / Cox 18)
loose translation/interpretation by Anne Carson

just now goldsandaled Dawn

"This is quoted by Ammonius of Alexandria about A.D. 400 to show Sappho's use of Ἀρτίωσ."―Edwin Marion Cox

Sappho, fragment 69
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Into the soft arms of the girl I once spurned,
I gladly returned.

Sappho, fragment 29
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Since my paps are dry and my barren womb rests,
let me praise lively girls with violet-scented breasts.

Sappho, fragment 22
by J. M. Edmonds

[Persuasion,] Man-beguiling daughter of Aphrodite.

Sappho, fragment 1
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Beautiful swift sparrows
rising on whirring wings
flee the dark earth for the sun-bright air ...

Sappho, fragment 58
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

The girls of the ripening maidenhead wore garlands.

Sappho, fragment 94 & 98
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Listen, my dear;
by the Goddess I swear
that I, too,
(like you)
had to renounce my false frigidity
and surrender my virginity.
My wedding night was not so bad;
you too have nothing to fear, so be glad!
(But then why do I still sometimes think with dread
of my lost maidenhead?)

Sappho, fragment 114 (Lobel-Page 114)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Maidenhead! Maidenhead!
So swiftly departed!
Why have you left me
forever brokenhearted?

Sappho, fragment 2
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch, after Sappho and Tennyson

I sip the cup of costly death;
I lose my color, catch my breath
whenever I contemplate your presence,
or absence.

Sappho, fragment 32 (Lobel-Page 32 / Diehl 10 / Bergk 10 / Cox 10 )
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

They have been very generous with me,
the violet-strewing Muses of Olympus;
thanks to their gifts
I have become famous.

Sappho, fragment 3
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stars ringing the lovely moon
pale to insignificance
when she illuminates the earth
with her magnificence.

Sappho, fragment 49
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You have returned!
You did well to not depart
because I pined for you.
Now you have re-lit the torch
I bear for you in my heart,
this flare of Love.
I bless you and bless you and bless you
because we're no longer apart.

Sappho, fragment 52
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Yesterday,
you came to my house
to sing for me.

Today,
I come to you
to return the favor.

Talk to me. Do.
Sweet talk,
I love the flavor!

Please send away your maids
and let us share a private heaven-
haven.

Sappho, fragment 19 (Lobel-Page 94)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

There was no dance,
no sacred dalliance,
from which we were absent.

... Παντοδάπαισ μεμιγμένα χροίαισιν.

Sappho, fragment 152 (Lobel-Page 152 / 142D / Wharton 20 / Cox 20)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

... shot through
with innumerable hues ...

"Quoted by the Scholiast on Apollonius of Rhodes, i, 727. Sappho's reference may be to the rainbow."―Edwin Marion Cox

Ὤσ δὲ παῖσ πέδα μάτερα πεπτερύτωμαι.

Sappho, fragment 38 (Incertum 25, Cox 36)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

I flutter
after you
like a chick after its mother ...

From the "Etymologicum Magnum" according to Edwin Marion Cox.

Κὰμ μέν τε τύλαν κασπολέω

Sappho, fragment 30
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Stay!
I will lay
out a cushion for you
with the plushest pillows ...

From Herodian, according to Edwin Marion Cox.

Ἕγω δ᾽ ἐπὶ μαλθάκαν τύλαν σπολέω μέλεα.

Sappho, fragment 46 (Lobel-Page 46 / Cox 46)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My body descends
and my comfort depends
on your welcoming cushions!

From Herodian, according to Edwin Marion Cox.

Sappho, fragment 131 (Lobel-Page 131)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Attis, you reject me and flit off to Andrómeda ...

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 140 (Lobel-Page 140)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

He is dying, Cytheréa, the delicate Adonis.
What shall we lovers do?
Rip off your clothes, bare your breasts and abuse them!

Sappho, fragment 153 (Lobel-Page 153)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

... a sweet-voiced maiden ...

Sappho, fragment 94 (Lobel-Page 94)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

You anointed yourself
with the most exquisite perfume.

Sappho, fragment 42 (Lobel-Page 42, Wharton 16, Cox 16)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

As their hearts froze,
their feathers molted.

Sappho, fragment 134
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Selene came to Endymion in the cave,
made love to him as he slept,
then crept away before the sun could prove
its light and warmth the more adept.

And now, in closing, here are poems dedicated by other poets to the Divine Sappho:

O ye who ever twine the three-fold thread,
Ye Fates, why number with the silent dead
That mighty songstress whose unrivalled powers
Weave for the Muse a crown of deathless flowers?
—Antipater of Sidon, translated by Francis Hodgson

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine;
A tenth is Lesbian Sappho, maid divine.
—Plato, translated by Lord Neaves

Had Sappho's self not left her word thus long
          For token,
The sea round Lesbos yet in waves of song
          Had spoken.
—Charles Algernon Swinburne

Sappho's Rose
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. 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.

Sappho’s Lullaby
an original poem by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy

Hushed yet melodic, the hills and the valleys
sleep unaware of the nightingale's call
as the dew-laden lilies lie
listening,
glistening . . .
this is their night, the first night of fall.

Son, tonight, a woman awaits you;
she is more vibrant, more lovely than spring.
She'll meet you in moonlight,
soft and warm,
all alone . . .
then you'll know why the nightingale sings.

Just yesterday the stars were afire;
then how desire flashed through my veins!
But now I am older;
night has come,
I’m alone . . .
for you I will sing as the nightingale sings.

The following are links to other translations by Michael R. Burch:

Ancient Greek Epigrams and Epitaphs
Poems about EROS and CUPID
Antipater of Sidon
Meleager
Sappho
The Seafarer
Wulf and Eadwacer
The Love Song of Shu-Sin: The Earth's Oldest Love Poem?
Sweet Rose of Virtue
How Long the Night
Caedmon's Hymn
Anglo-Saxon Riddles and Kennings
Bede's Death Song
The Wife's Lament
Deor's Lament
Lament for the Makaris
Tegner's Drapa
Alexander Pushkin's tender, touching poem "I Love You" has been translated into English by Michael R. Burch.
Whoso List to Hunt
Basho
Oriental Masters/Haiku
Miklós Radnóti
Rainer Maria Rilke
Marina Tsvetaeva
Renée Vivien
Ono no Komachi
Allama Iqbal
Bertolt Brecht
Ber Horvitz
Paul Celan
Primo Levi
Ahmad Faraz
Sandor Marai
Wladyslaw Szlengel
Saul Tchernichovsky
Robert Burns: Original Poems and Translations
The Seventh Romantic: Robert Burns
Free Love Poems by Michael R. Burch

The HyperTexts