neither the honey nor the bee
for me...
'i want to tell you something but good taste
restrains me.'
'if you wanted to express
some noble or gorgeous thought - that is, unless
your tongue were keen to utter in hot haste
some shameful slur, "good taste" would not have
dressed
your face in red, no, you would have professed
whatever you would say upfront and straightaway.'
She always smelled like honey. She always smelled like home.
'in all honesty, i want to die.'
leaving for good after a good long cry,
she said: 'we both have suffered terribly,
but, sappho, it is hard to say goodbye.'
i said: 'go with my blessing if you go
always remembering what we did. to me
you have meant everything, as you well know.
'yet, lest it slip your mind, i shall review
everything we have shared - the good times, too:
'you culled violets and roses, bloom and stem,
often in spring and i looked on as you
wove a bouquet into a diadem.
'time and again we plucked lush flowers, wed
spray after spray in strands and fastened them
around your soft neck; you perfumed your head
'of glossy curls with myrrh - lavish infusions
in queenly quantities - then on a bed
prepared with fleecy sheets and yielding cushions,
'sated your craving...'
Bedenlerimiz zevkle şarkı söylüyordu sadece bizim duyabileceğimiz bir şarkı sadece bizim hissedebileceğimiz bir bağ ile .
Bu kızdan saf altın rengi bir mutluluk sızıyordu .
Gerçekten parlıyordu .
İhtiyacım olduğunu hiç bilmediğim Tanrılardan gelen bir hediye gibi orada duruyordu.