Poetry of Sappho
Poetry of Sappho
Poetry of Sappho
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He is dying, Cytheréa, Adonis the delicate. What shall we do?<br />
“Beat your breasts, girls, and tear your clothes.”<br />
[LP 140]<br />
<br />
There a bowl <strong>of</strong> ambrosia<br />
was mixed and ready<br />
and Hermes took the pitcher and poured wine for the gods.<br />
They all held glasses<br />
and made libations, praying all good things<br />
for the groom.<br />
[LP 141]<br />
<br />
Now Leto and Níobë were very dear companions<br />
[LP 142]<br />
<br />
golden chickpeas grew along the shore<br />
[LP 143]<br />
the poetry <strong>of</strong> sappho 35
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