Yes, Atthis, you may be sure

Yes, Atthis, you may be sure

Even in Sardis

Anactoria will think often of us

of the life we shared here, when you seemed

the Goddess incarnate

to her and your singing pleased her best

Now among Lydian women she in her

turn stands first as the red-

fingered moon rising at sunset takes

precedence over stars around her;

her light spreads equally

on the salt sea and fields thick with bloom

Delicious dew purs down to freshen

roses, delicate thyme

and blossoming sweet clover; she wanders

aimlessly, thinking of gentle

Atthis, her heart hanging

heavy with longing in her little breast

She shouts aloud, Come! we know it;

thousand-eared night repeats that cry

across the sea shining between us