Fragments Based on Fragments by Sappho

By Judith Walcutt

Categories: Alum Experiences,
Original Sappho fragment in Greek

Original Sappho fragment in Greek

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fragments of Sappho translations

Fragments of Sappho translations

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fragments Based on Fragments by Sappho

By Writers at Hedgebrook’s Raise the Roof Party at Town Hall, Seattle, 2013

Assembled and interpreted by Judith Walcutt

 

Yet, I am not

Minded Deathless Aphro

beautiful moon glittering, shines on earth

horsemen

Glittering mouths become light

a clear honest truth

as strong as a full,

pounding, red, red, rose

 

come from heaven

wrapped in a purple

cloak

I spoke to you, Aphrodite, in a dream…

Mad for you, mad for me;

mad for my mind, filled with longing

 

Prefer those who are wearing flowers

Emptiness. There are no words

love is consideration

moon is down

 

beautiful things

reddening high on the branch

lament for us

Honeybees devour wasps

 

“I cannot work the loom” warp or weft—I am

threadless

A naked body; in love or regret

A daughter, golden and beautiful

My love, I would not trade all the riches in the world for you.

with a voice of longing, she sang the amens louder than

 

burned with longing

I might not be a reliable

narrator of my own life

The mermaids, swimming beneath the waves, draw water

deep into their lungs and exhale satisfaction.

 

Stepping sweetly, urged on by your eyes

 

Mountain hyacinth

…but you have forgotten me…

prefer those who are wearing flowers

Shepard

Remember, we did many

 

She runs, she refuses, she loves

without her daughter

But come with your heart open

you are holy because

you are you

Dear moth

Lovely brought you

Molten

Mountain hyacinth

 

Come to win you

Be here, by

Lady Hera,

Help in lovely handfuls, here supplied,

To dare with or to leave behind.

Come to Yanwi            ,             ACDC

 

They gain there,   and  ,   and

Come Glorious Hera

Be here Lovely Lady

Help me answer you

 

The apple branches, cold

Honeysuckle cups

mixed with a festive joy

Here, Cyprian, delicately

 

 

He is somewhat dying

A purple flower found, one loom for a slender boy

Thyone’s Crete where the grove

black earth snares, long to win…

 

Not forgotten, but one they

Couldn’t reach…

Longing

And I’m an inch from dying

My legs, fleet as fawns

Grieve the dance

 

 

Human can or not, I never know

What today will bring me—nouns or verbs.

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