Translations/Adaptations: 4 Sappho Poem by Rob Dyer

After Sappho

Along the branches where the apples swell
a shuddering river of cold murmurs,
the whole earth is covered with roses,
under quivering leaves passion's sloth o'erwhelms.

Here too the meadow where the mounting body pastures
is lush with the flower of springtime,
and the breath of wind blows honey-soft,
......................

Here, Cyprian power, gently parting,
pour from your luxuriant fountain
within the golden goblet of her thighs
mingled nectar for rich festivities.