Читать книгу Yale Required Reading - Collected Works (Vol. 1) - Anacreon - Страница 129

Table of Contents

THE MUSES

Hither now, O Muses, leaving the golden

House of God unseen in the azure spaces,

Come and breathe on bosom and brow and kindle

Song like the sunglow;

Come and lift my shaken soul to the sacred

Shadow cast by Helicon's rustling forests;

Sweep on wings of flame from the middle ether,

Seize and uplift me;

Thrill my heart that throbs with unwonted fervor,

Chasten mouth and throat with immortal kisses,

Till I yield on maddening heights the very

Breath of my body.

MUSAGETES

Come with Musagetes, ye Hours and Graces,

Dance around the team of swans that attend him

Up Parnassian heights, to his holy temple

High on the hill-top;

Come, ye Muses, too, from the shades of Pindus,

Let your songs, that echo on winds of rapture,

Wake the lyre he tunes to the sweet inspiring

Sound of your voices.

LOVE'S BANQUET

If Panormus, Cyprus or Paphos hold thee,

Either home of Gods or the island temple,

Hark again and come at my invocation,

Goddess benefic;

Come thou, foam-born Kypris, and pour in dainty

Cups of amber gold thy delicate nectar,

Subtly mixed with fire that will swiftly kindle

Love in our bosoms;

Thus the bowl ambrosial was stirred in Paphos

For the feast, and taking the burnished ladle,

Hermes poured the wine for the Gods who lifted

Reverent beakers;

High they held their goblets and made libation,

Spilling wine as pledge to the Fates and Hades

Quaffing deep and binding their hearts to Eros,

Lauding thy servant.

So to me and my Lesbians round me gathered,

Each made mine, an amphor of love long tasted,

Bid us drink, who sigh for thy thrill ecstatic,

Passion's full goblet;

Grant me this, O Kypris, and on thy altar

Dawn will see a goat of the breed of Naxos,

Snowy doves from Cos and the drip of rarest

Lesbian vintage;

For a regal taste is mine and the glowing

Zenith-lure and beauty of suns must brighten

Love for me, that ever upon perfection

Trembles elusive.

MOON AND STARS

When the moon at full on the sill of heaven

Lights her beacon, flooding the earth with silver,

All the shining stars that about her cluster

Hide their fair faces;

So when Anactoria's beauty dazzles

Sight of mine, grown dim with the joy it gives me,

Gorgo, Atthis, Gyrinno, all the others

Fade from my vision.

ODE TO ANACTORIA

Peer of Gods to me is the man thy presence

Crowns with joy; who hears, as he sits beside thee,

Accents sweet of thy lips the silence breaking,

With lovely laughter;

Tones that make the heart in my bosom flutter,

For if I, the space of a moment even,

Near to thee come, any word I would utter

Instantly fails me;

Vain my stricken tongue would a whisper fashion,

Subtly under my skin runs fire ecstatic;

Straightway mists surge dim to my eyes and leave them

Reft of their vision;

Echoes ring in my ears; a trembling seizes

All my body bathed in soft perspiration;

Pale as grass I grow in my passion's madness,

Like one insensate;

But must I dare all, since to me unworthy,

Bliss thy beauty brings that a God might envy;

Never yet was fervid woman a fairer

Image of Kypris.

Ah! undying Daughter of God, befriend me!

Calm my blood that thrills with impending transport;

Feed my lips the murmur of words to stir her

Bosom to pity;

Overcome with kisses her faintest protest,

Melt her mood to mine with amorous touches,

Till her low assent and her sigh's abandon

Lure me to rapture.

THE ROSE

If it pleased the whim of Zeus in an idle

Hour to choose a king for the flowers, he surely

Would have crowned the rose for its regal beauty,

Deeming it peerless;

By its grace is valley and hill embellished,

Earth is made a shrine for the lover's ardor;

Dear it is to flowers as the charm of lovely

Eyes are to mortals;

Joy and pride of plants, and the garden's glory,

Beauty's blush it brings to the cheek of meadows;

Draining fire and dew from the dawn for rarest

Color and odor;

Softly breathed, its scent is a plea for passion,

When it blooms to welcome the kiss of Kypris;

Sheathed in fragrant leaves its tremulous petals

Laugh in the zephyr.

ODE TO APHRODITE

Aphrodite, subtle of soul and deathless,

Daughter of God, weaver of wiles, I pray thee

Neither with care, dread Mistress, nor with anguish,

Slay thou my spirit!

But in pity hasten, come now if ever

From afar of old when my voice implored thee,

Thou hast deigned to listen, leaving the golden

House of thy father

With thy chariot yoked; and with doves that drew thee,

Fair and fleet around the dark earth from heaven,

Dipping vibrant wings down the azure distance,

Through the mid-ether;

Very swift they came; and thou, gracious Vision,

Leaned with face that smiled in immortal beauty,

Leaned to me and asked, "What misfortune threatened?

Why I had called thee?"

"What my frenzied heart craved in utter yearning,

Whom its wild desire would persuade to passion?

What disdainful charms, madly worshipped, slight thee?

Who wrongs thee, Sappho?"

"She that fain would fly, she shall quickly follow,

She that now rejects, yet with gifts shall woo thee,

She that heeds thee not, soon shall love to madness,

Love thee, the loth one!"

Come to me now thus, Goddess, and release me

From distress and pain; and all my distracted

Heart would seek, do thou, once again fulfilling,

Still be my ally!

SUMMER

Slumber streams from quivering leaves that listless

Bask in heat and stillness of Lesbian summer;

Breathless swoons the air with the apple-blossoms'

Delicate odor;

From the shade of branches that droop and cover

Shallow trenches winding about the orchard,

Restful comes, and cool to the sense, the flowing

Murmur of water.

THE GARDEN OF THE NYMPHS

All around through the apple boughs in blossom

Murmur cool the breezes of early summer,

And from leaves that quiver above me gently

Slumber is shaken;

Glades of poppies swoon in the drowsy languor,

Dreaming roses bend, and the oleanders

Bask and nod to drone of bees in the silent

Fervor of noontide;

Myrtle coverts hedging the open vista,

Dear to nightly frolic of Nymph and Satyr,

Yield a mossy bed for the brown and weary

Limbs of the shepherd.

Echo ever wafts through the drooping frondage,

Ceaseless silver murmur of water falling

In the grotto cool of the Nymphs, the sacred

Haunt of Immortals;

Down the sides of rocks that are gray and lichened

Trickle tiny rills, whose expectant tinkle

Drips with gurgle hushed in the clear glimmering

Depths of the basin.

Fair on royal couches of leaves recumbent,

Interspersed with languor of waxen lilies,

Lotus flowers empurple the pool whose edge is

Cushioned with mosses;

Here recline the Nymphs at the hour of twilight,

Back in shadows dim of the cave, their golden

Sea-green eyes half lidded, up to their supple

Waists in the water.

Sheltered once by ferns I espied them binding

Tresses long, the tint of lilac and orange;

Just beyond the shimmer of light their bodies

Roseate glistened;

Deftly, then, they girdled their loins with garlands,

Linked with leaves luxuriant limb and shoulder;

On their breasts they bruised the red blood of roses

Fresh from the garden.

She of orange hair was the Nymph Euxanthis,

And the lilac-tressed were Iphis and Io;

How they laughed, relating at length their ease in

Evading the Satyr.

APHRODITE'S DOVES

When the drifting gray of the vesper shadow

Dimmed their upward path through the midmost azure,

And the length of night overtook them distant

Far from Olympus;

Far away from splendor and joy of Paphos,

From the voice and smile of their peerless Mistress,

Back to whom their truant wings were in rapture

Speeding belated;

Chilled at heart and grieving they drooped their pinions,

Circled slowly, dipping in flight toward Lesbos,

Down through dusk that darkened on Mitylene's

Columns of marble;

Down through glory wan of the fading sunset,

Veering ever toward the abode of Sappho,

Toward my home, the fane of the glad devoted

Slave of the Goddess;

Soon they gained the tile of my roof and rested,

Slipped their heads beneath their wings while I watched them

Sink to sleep and dreams, in the warm and drowsy

Night of midsummer.

ANACREON'S SONG

Golden-throned Muse, sing the song that in olden

Days was sung of love and delight in Teos,

In the goodly land of the lovely women:

Strains that in other

Years the hoary bard with the youthful fancy

Set to mirthful stir of flutes, when the dancing

Nymphs that poured the wine for the poet's banquet

Mixed it with kisses;

Sing the song while I, in the arms of Atthis,

Seal her lips to mine with a lover's fervor,

Breathe her breath and drink her sighs to the honeyed

Lull of the melics.

THE DAUGHTER OF CYPRUS

Dreaming I spake with the Daughter of Cyprus,

Heard the languor soft of her voice, the blended

Suave accord of tones interfused with laughter

Low and desireful;

Dreaming saw her dread ineffable beauty,

Saw through texture fine of her clinging tunic

Blush the fire of flesh, the rose of her body,

Radiant, blinding;

Saw through filmy meshes the melting lovely

Flow of line, the exquisite curves, whence piercing

Rapture reached with tangible touch to thrill me,

Almost to slay me;

Saw the gleaming foot, and the golden sandal

Held by straps of Lydian work thrice doubled

Over the instep's arch, and up the rounded

Dazzling ankle;

Saw the charms that shimmered from knee to shoulder,

Hint of hues, than milk or the snowdrift whiter;

Secret grace, the shrine of the soul of passion,

Glows that consumed me;

Saw the gathered mass of her xanthic tresses,

Mitra-bound, escape from the clasping fillet,

Float and shine as clouds in the sunset splendor,

Mists in the dawn-fire;

Saw the face immortal, and daring greatly,

Raised my eyes to hers of unfathomed azure,

Drank their world's desire, their limitless longing,

Swooned and was nothing.

THE DISTAFF

Come, ye dainty Graces and lovely Muses,

Rosy-armed and pure and with fairest tresses,

Come from groves on Helicon's hill where murmur

Founts that are holy;

Come with dancing step and with lips harmonic,

Gather near and view my ivory distaff,

Gift from Cos my brother Charaxus brought me,

Sailing from Egypt;

Sailing back to Lesbos from far Naucratis,

From the seven mouths of the Nile and Egypt

Up the blue Ægean, the island-dotted

Ocean of Hellas;

Choicest wool alone will I spin for fabrics,

Winding reel with threads for the cloths as fleecy,

Soft and fine as they bring from far Phocea,

Sidon or Sardis;

While I weave my thought shall engird the giver,

Whether here, or far on the sea, or resting

Couched in shady courts with the lovely garland

Girls of Naucratis.

THE SLEEP WIND

Softer than mists o'er the pale green of waters,

O'er the charmed sea, shod with sandals of shadow

Comes the warm sleep wind of Argolis, floating

Garlands of fragrance;

Comes the sweet wind by the still hours attended,

Touching tired lids on the shores dim with distance,

Ever its way toward the headland of Lesbos,

Toward Mitylene.

Faintly one fair star of evening enkindles

On the dusk afar its lone fire Œtean,

Shining serene till the darkness will deepen

Others to splendor;

Bringing ineffable peace, and the gladsome

Return with the night of all things that morning

Ruthlessly parted, the child to its mother,

Lover to lover.

From the marble court of rose-crowned companions,

All alone my feet again seek the little

Theatre pledged to the Muse, now deserted,

Facing the surges;

Where the carved Pan-heads that laugh down the gentle

Slope of broad steps to the refluent ripple,

Flute from their thin pipes the dithyrambs deathless,

Songs all unuttered.

Empty each seat where my girl friends acclaimed me,

Poets with names on the tiered stone engraven,

Over whose verge blooms the apple tree, drifting

Perfume and petals;

Gone Telesippa and tender Gyrinno,

Anactoria, woman divine; Atthis,

Subtlest of soul, fair Damophyla, Dica,

Maids of the Muses.

Here an hour past soul-enravished they listened

While my rapt heart breathed its pæan impassioned,

Chanted its wild prayer to thee, Aphrodite,

Daughter of Cyprus;

Now to their homes are they gone in the city,

Pensive to dream limb-relaxed while the languid

Slaves come and lift from the tresses they loosen,

Flowers that have faded.

Thou alone, Sappho, art sole with the silence,

Sole with night and dreams that are darkness, weaving

Thoughts that are sighs from the heart and their meaning

Vague as the shadow;

When the great silence shall come to thee, sad one,

Men that forget shall remember thy music,

Murmur thy name that shall steal on their passion

Soft as the sleep wind.

THE REPROACH

Kypris, hear my prayer to thee and the Nereids!

Safely bring the ship of my brother homewards,

Bring him back unharmed to the heart that loves him,

Throbbing remorseful;

Fair Immortal, banish from mind, I pray thee,

Every discord's hint that of yore estranged us;

Grant that never again dissension's hateful

Wrangle shall part us;

May he never in days to come remember

Keen reproach of mine that had grieved him sorely;

Words that broke my very heart when I heard them

Uttered by others;

Words that wounded deep and recurring often,

Bowed his head with shame at the public banquet;

Where my scorn, amid festal joy and laughter,

Sharpened the covert

Jests that stung his pride and assailed his folly,

Slave-espoused when he, a Lesbian noble,

Might have won the fairest in Mitylene,

Virgins the noblest;

Open slurs that linked his name with Doricha,

Lovely slave that Xanthes had sold in Egypt;

She whose wondrous charms the wealth of Charaxus

Ransomed from bondage.

Now that he is gone and my anger vanished,

Keen regret and grief for the pain I gave him

Pierce my heart, and fear of loss that is anguish

Darkens the daylight.

LONG AGO

Long ago beloved, thy memory, Atthis,

Saddens still my heart as the soft Æolic

Twilight deepens down on the sea, and fitful

Winds that have wandered

Over groves of myrtle at Amathonte

Waft forgotten passion on breaths of perfume.

Long ago, how madly I loved thee, Atthis!

Faithless, light-hearted

Loved one, mine no more, who lovest another

More than me; the silent flute and the faded

Garlands haunt the heart of me thou forgettest,

Long since thy lover.