Farewell To Anactoria

(Sappho)

Never the tramp of foot or horse,

Nor lusty cries from ship at sea,

Shall I call loveliest on the dark earth-

My heart moves lovingly.

I say that what one loves is best:

The midnight fastness of the heart.

Helen, you took the beauty of men

With unpitying art!

White Paris from Idean hills

For you the Trojan towers razed

Who swiftly ploughed the black seas

Had on your white arm gazed!

Oh, how loving from afar

Led you to grief, for in your mind

The present was too light, as ever

Among fair womankind. . . .

So, Anactoria, go you away

With what calm carelessness of sorrow!

Your gleaming footstep and your grace,

When comes another morrow,

Much would I rather then behold

Than Lydian cars or infantry.

I ask the lot of blessedness,

Beloved, in memory.