Song for the Goddess of Love

Leave Crete,
Aphrodite,
and come to this sacred place
encircled by apple trees,
fragrant with offered smoke.

Here, cold springs
sing softly
amid the branches;
the ground is shady with roses;
from trembling young leaves
a deep drowsiness pours.

In the meadow,
horses are cropping the wildflowers of spring,
scented fennel
blows on the breeze.

In this place,
Lady of Cyprus, pour
the nectar that honors you
into our cups,
gold, and raised for the drinking.

-- Sappho (adapted by Jane Hirshfield)

 

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| Afterward | Acknowledgements ]