If Not, Winter:
Fragments of Sappho
by Sappho
"Eros, that slackener of limbs, twirls me again---
bittersweet, untamable, crawling thing.
but you, Atthis, hate the thought of me,
and go flying off to Andromeda"
bittersweet, untamable, crawling thing.
but you, Atthis, hate the thought of me,
and go flying off to Andromeda"
The poetry of Sappho is incomparably erotic and undeniably beautiful even in small fragments.
So true and in Sappho's case the fragments are so beautiful that the reader can read her and imagine and be moved and take it from there. It's like a half finished novel, if it's brilliantly written it's a work of art even if we don't have the second half.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your observation - the feeling of beauty in her work is palpable.
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