Roz Kaveney (rozk) wrote,
Roz Kaveney


He's like a god, I think, or maybe more
than gods, the man who's sitting next to you,
He gets to watch you. It is almost too
much that he hears your sweet laugh. I am poor

in spirit, Lesbia, because that sound
robs me of sense. It leaves me blind and dumb.
Soon deafness and paralysis will come.
I moan, and stagger, lie there on the ground

And that's just when you laugh. I cannot bear
to think of him, or you. And worse by far,
I know the truth, that all my problems are
trivial, and silly, lighter than the air

and yet great kingdoms fall through such as this,
an idle dreamer, longing for a kiss.

And here I am, somewhere near the half-way mark of this project - if you allow for the longer poems I have still to tackle. Now I have written a translation of Sappho's original, a translation of Catullus' translation of Sappho, and a poem about me translating him translating her...
  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.