Читать книгу Sapphic Classics - Sappho - Страница 94

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A sad, sad face, and saddest eyes that ever

Beheld the sun,

Whence came the grief that makes of all thy beauty

One sad sweet smile?

In this bright portrait, where the painter fixed them, 5

I still behold

The eyes that gladdened, and the lips that loved me,

And, gold on rose,

The cloud of hair that settles on one shoulder

Slipped from its vest. 10

I almost hear thy Mitylenean love-song

In the spring night,

When the still air was odorous with blossoms,

And in the hour

Thy first wild girl's-love trembled into being, 15

Glad, glad and fond.

Ah, where is all that wonder? What god's malice

Undid that joy

And set the seal of patient woe upon thee,

O my lost love? 20

Sapphic Classics

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