Elia Michael


Sappho


Golden words of yours, O Psappho
Show the wit of your intellect
Words of love, its joy and sorrow
In old Aeolic dialect

Singing words in a honeyed voice
Mere breaths, as you say, and by
Your command they happily rejoice
Given life and life never to die

Pray to shining Aphroditi
Lament her youthful dead lover
Invoke your muse, Kalliope
Sing till place and time are over

The heavenly muses were nine
Yet Plato himself named you ten
Tribute to such stature of thine
And enchanting words from your pen

Sing your golden words, O Psappho
Sing in entrancing melody
Sing of bitterly sweet sorrow
Sing muse sing your song-poetry!

Submitted: Monday, September 30, 2013
Edited: Saturday, January 04, 2014

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