Sappho

Atop the sheer cliff over waves,
The beautiful maid does retire.
She shines in her crown of laurel leaves
While clasping the murmuring lyre.

She pours out her tears in a poem,
Her instrument singing along.
But sadness still swells in her bosom,
And breaches her hold of the song.

She sang of her dignified glory,
Of lights in the cosmic wonder,
Of treacherous people, of loving,
Betrayal, and Age’s plunder,

Of hope and despair… so the maiden
Discarded that crown of torn leaves.
In clamouring torrents of ocean
She found the end to songful grieves.

undated, c. 1884

Original

Сафо.