Page 110 - MIL-OSC
P. 110
To Sappho
I.
O, Love mistress,
You, who wove a garland from Aphrodite’s wave, whom Eros oftentimes struck with his bitter sweet arrow.
Here I stand on the Lefkadian shore
gazing spellbound upon the reflection of the dancing Pleiades,
where the wind weaves your songs,
and the night smells of Kharites’ flowers.
I am paganly happy,
therefore I pray for this moment
to last throughout eternity.
II.
O, Sappho, with eyes like flames of impatience. You weave jasmine into your violet hair
to delight the night of Phaeon.
The wind fervently kisses your thighs
laid bare by waving chiton.
The jealous moon sails towards the rock,
a witness to love’s play.
At which the worries disappear,
and echo composes the stanza.
III.
You’re back from afar
and look from the porch again to the sea, which pulsates in the cadence of your heart. In the garden the barefoot girls, dancing, step into the altar of trees
and the salon mirrors
await the reflection of new songs.
When you light up the six-armed candelabra the stars will rise.
Which one will plead for me?
- 108 -
