H. de Vere Stacpoole - Sappho - A New Rendering

7/27/2019 H. de Vere Stacpoole - Sappho - A New Rendering

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SAPPHOthe cross the age of Athenian culture,culmir>ating in the white flower of theAcropolis.Had she travelled she might have visitedNineveh before its destruction by Cyaxares,or watched the Phoenicians set sail ontheir African voyage at the command ofNechos. She might have spoken withDraco and Jeremiah the Prophet andthe father of Gautama the founder ofBuddhism. For her the Historical Past,which is the background of all thought,held little . but echoes, voices, and theforms of gods, and the immediate presentlittle but Lesbos and the ^gean Sea,whose waters had been broken by thefirst trireme only a hundred and fifty yearsbefore her birth.


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SAPPHOII

Men call her the greatest lyric poetthat the world has known, basing theirjudgment on the few perfect fragmentsthat remain of her song. But her voiceis more than the voice of a lyric poet, it isthe voice of a world that has been, of afreshness and beauty that will never beagain, and to give that voice a last touchof charm remains the fact that it comes tous as an echo.

For of Sappho's poetry not a singlevestige remains that does not come to usreflected in the form of a quotation fromthe works of some admirer, some onecaptured by her beauty or her wisdom orthe splendour of her verse, or some one,like Herodian or

Apolloniusthe sophist

of Alexandria, who takes it to exhibit theaeolic use of words or accentuation, or

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SAPPtiOwhat did the daughter of Cyprus say toher in a dream ?

There is not a fragment of Sappho thatis not surrounded in the mind of the readerby the rainbow of suggestion. Just as thegods draped the human form to give desireimagination, so, perhaps, some god and nofate has all but hidden the mind of Sappho.

Ill

Looking at it in another way one mightfancy that all the demons of malignity anddestruction had conspired to destroy andtraduce : to destroy the works and traducethe character of the poet.The game of defamation was begun in

Athens in the age of corruption by lepers,and carried on through the succeedingages by their kind, till Welcker came with

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SAPPHOhis torch and showed these gibberingghosts standing on nothing and withnothing in their hands.

Colonel Mure tried to put Welcker'storch out, and only burned his fingers.Comparetti snuffed it, only to make itburn the brighter. But bright or dim, thetorch was only intended to show the lepers.Sappho shines by her own light in theminutest fragments of her that remainFragments whose deathless energy, likethe energy of radium, has vivified literaturein all ages and times.

IVThe mind of Sappho runs through all

literature like a spangled thread.

II


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THE HYMN TO APHRODITE ANDFIFTY-TWO FRAGMENTS, TO-GETHER WITH SAPPHO TO

PHAON, OVID'S HEROICEPISTLE XV

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FOREWORDSome flower unfold in some for-

saken spot,Hill hyacinth, or blue forget-me-

not.

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CONTENTSXXVI.


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I

HYMN TO APHRODITEDaughter of Zeus and Immortal,Aphrodite, sereneWeaver of spells, at thy portalHear me and slay not, O Queen As in the past, hither to meFrom thy far palace of gold.Drawn by the doves that o'erflew

me.Come, as thou camest of old.Swiftly thy flock bore thee hither.Smiling, as turned I to thee.Spoke thou across the blue weather," Sappho, why callest thou me ? "

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11ODE TO ANACTORIA

That man, whoever he may be.Who sits awhile to gaze on thee,Hearing thy lovely laugh, thy

speech,Throned with the gods he seems to

me;For when a moment to mine eyesThy form discloses, silentlyI stand consumed with fires that riseLike flames around a sacrifice.Sight have I none, bells out of tuneRing in mine ears, my tongue liesdumb ;Paler than grass in later June,Yet daring all

(To thee I come).23


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lit

WEDDING SONGWorkmen lift highThe beams of the roof,Hymenaeus

Like Ares from skyComes the groom to the bride,Hymenaeus

Than men who must dieStands he taller in pride,Hymenaeus

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XEVENING

Children astray to their mothers,and goats to the herd,Sheep to the shepherd, through

twilight the wings of the bird,All things that morning has scat-

tered with fingers of gold,All things thou bringest, O Even-

ing at last to the fold.

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XIMAIDENHOOD

Maidenhood Maidenhood wherehast thou gone from me.

Whither, O Slain I shall return to thee, I who have

gone from thee, never again.

XIIMOONLIGHT

The stars around the fair moon fadeAgainst the night.When gazing full she fills the gladeAnd spreads the seas with silvery

light.30


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XIIIORCHARD SONG

Cool murmur of water throughapple-wood

Troughs without numberThe whole orchard fills, whilst the

leavesLend their music to slumber.

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XIVDICA

With flowers fair adorn thy lustroushair,

Dica, amidst thy locks sweet blos-soms twine.

With thy soft hands, for so amaiden stands

Accepted of the gods, whose eyesdivine

Are turned away from herthoughfair as May

She waits, but round whose locksno flowers shine.

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XVGRACE

What country maiden charms thyheart.However fair, however sweet.Who has not learned by gracious

ArtTo draw her dress around her feet ?XVI

AS ON THE HILLSAs on the hills the shepherds

trample the hyacinth down,Staining the earth with darkness,

there where a flower hasblown,

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XIXGOODNESS

He who is fair is good to lookupon ;He who is good is fair, thoughyouth be gone.

XXTHE FISHERMAN'S TOMBOver the fisher Pelagon Meniscus

his father setThe oar worn by the wave, the

trap, and the fishing net ;For all men, and for ever, memor-

ials there to beOf the luckless life of the fisher,

the labourer of the sea.2S


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XXIIDEAD SHALT THOU LIE

Dead shalt thou lie for ever, andforgotten,

For whom the flowers of song havenever bloomed ;A wanderer amidst the unbegotten.In Hades' house a shadow ayentombed.

XXIIIDEATH

Death is an evil, for the godschoose breath ;

Had Death been good the godshad chosen Death.

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XXVTHE ALTARThen the full globed moon arose,

and thereThe women stood as round an

altar fair.

XXVITHE ALTAR

And thus at times, in Crete, thewomen there

Circle in dance around the altarfair ;

In measured movement, treadingas they pass

W^ith tender feet the soft bloomof the grass.

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XXXIITHE MOON HAS SET

The moon has set beyond the seas,And vanished are the Pleiades ;Half the long weary night has gone,Time passesyet I lie alone.

XXXIIITHE SKY

I THINK not with these twoWhite arms to touch the blue.

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XXXVIIIADONIS

Ah for Adonis (Where the willows sighThe call still comesThrough spring's

sweet mystery.)

XXXIXLEDA

They say, 'neath leaf and blossomLeda found in the gloomAn egg, white as her bosom,Under an iris bloom.

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XLTHE CAPTIVE

Now Love has bound me, trembling,hands and feet,O Love so fatal. Love so bitter-sweet.

XLIINVOCATION

Come to me, O ye graces.Delicate, tender, fair ;Come from your heavenly places,Muses with golden hair.

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XLVON THE TOMB OF A PRIESTESS

OF ARTEMISVoiceless I speak, and from the

tomb replyUnto ^thopia, Leto's child, was IVowed by the daughter of Hermo-

cleides,Who was the son of Saonaiades.O virgin queen, unto my prayerincline.Bless him and cast thy blessing

on our line.

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XLVITO A BRIDE

Bride, around whom the rosy lovesare flying.

Sweet image of the Cyprian un-dying,

The bed awaits thee ; go, and withhim lying,

Give to the groom thy sweetness,softly sighing.

May Hesperus in gladness passbefore thee.

And Hera of the silver throne bendo'er thee.


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XLVIIlADONIS

Tender Adonis stricken is lying,What, Cytherea, now can we do ?Beat your breasts, maidens, Adonis

is dying.Rending your garments (the white

fragments strew).

XLIXSLEEP

With eyes of darkness.The sleep of night.

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LTHY FORM IS LOVELY

Thy form is lovely and thine eyesare honeyed.

O'er thy face the paleClear light of love lies like a veil.Bidding thee rise,With outstretched hands.Before thee Aphrodite stands.

LITHE BRIDEGROOM

Joy born of marriage thou provest,Bridegroom thrice blest.Holding the maiden thou lovestClasped to thy breast.

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LiiREGRET

Those unto whom I have given.These have my heart most riven.

LIII

FRAGMENTUpon thy girl friend's white and

tender breast,Sleep thou, and on her bosom find

thy rest.

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SAPPHO TO PHAONThe blue sea in its solitude lies fair,But, desolate, I turn from it in pain.No more the girls of Lesbos move

my heart,My blameless love for them is now

no more.Before my love for thee all loves

depart.Cold wanderer thou upon a distant

shore.

O thou art lovely wert thou garbedlike him,

Apollo by thy side a shade would be.Garland thy tresses with the ivy dimAnd Bacchus would be less himself,

by thee.58


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SAPPHO TO PHAONApollo, yet, who bent, as Bacchus

fell,One to the Cretan, one to Daphne's

fire.Beside me, what are they ? I cast

my spellO'er seas and lands, the music of

my lyreEchoes across the world where

mortals dwell,Renders the earth in tune with

my desire.Alcsus strikes Olympus with his

song.Boldly and wild his music finds its

star.59


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SAPPHO TO PHAONUnto the human does my voice

belongAnd Aphrodite smiles on me fromfar.

Have I no charms ? has genius losther touch

To turn simplicity to beauty'szone ?

Am I so small, whose toweringheight is such

That in the world of men I standalone?

Yea, I am brownan Ethiopian'sfaceTurned Perseus from his path, aflame of fire.

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SAPPHO TO PHAONWhite doves or dark, which hath

the finer grace ?Are they not equal, netted by-

desire ?

If by no charm except thine ownsweet charmThou can'st be moved, ah then,alas, for me

Fires of the earth thy coldness willnot warm.And Phaon's self must Phaon'slover be.

Yet once, ah once forgetful of theworld,

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SAPPHO TO PHAONAnd yet again, delirious as we

faced,And yet again, till in exhaustion,

evenLove's self half died and nothing

more remained,But earth and life half lost, and

heaven gained.

And now, Sicilian girlsO heartof mine.

Why was I born so far fromSicily ?

Sicilian girls, unto my words incline.Beware of smiles, of insincerity,Beware the words that once belonged

to me,63


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SAPPHO TO PHAONThe fruits of passion and the seeds

of grief ;O Cyprian by the fair Sicilian sea,Sappho now calls thee, turn to

her relief

Shall Fortune still pursue me, luck-less one,

With hounds of woe pursue medown the years ?

Sorrow was mine since first I sawthe sun.

The ashes of my parents knew mytears.

My brother cast the gifts of life awayFor one unworthy of all gifts butgold,

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SAPPHO TO PHAONGrief follows griefand on this woe-

ful dayAn infant daughter in my armsI hold.

Fates What more can ye do,what more essay ?

Phaon ah yes, he is the last, Iknow.The first, the all, the grave that

once was gay,The dark veil o'er my purple robe

ye throw.My curls no more are curls, nor

scent the airWith perfume from the flowers

' Egyptians grow,E . 65


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SAPPHO TO PHAONThe gold that bound these locks of

mine so fairHas parted for the wind these locks

to blow.All arts of love were mine when he

was by,Whose sun is now the sun ofSicily.

Phaon when I was born, themystic three

Called Aphrodite on my birth togaze,And then the Cyprian, turning,called on thee

To be my fate and fill my dreamsand days.

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SAPPHO TO PHAONThou for whose sake Aurora's eyes

might turnFrom Cephalus, or Cynthia give

thee sleep,Pouring obUvion from night's marble

urn,Bidding Endymion to watch thy

sheep

Lo as I write I weep, andnought appearsBut Love, half veiled by brokenwords and tears.

You you who left me withoutkiss or tear

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SAPPHO TO PHAONOr word, to murmur softly like a

childBegotten of thy voice, deception

wereLess cruel far than silence, you

who smiledFalsely so often, had you no false

phraseYou who so often had false talesto tell

No voice there, at the parting ofour ways.To say " Farewell, O Love " orjust " Farewell

"

I had no gift to give you when youpassed,

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SAPPHO TO PHAONAnd wrongs were all the gifts

received from thee,I had no words to tell you at the

lastBut these : " Forgo not life, forget

not me."And when I heard, told by some

casual tongue,That thou wert gone. Grief turnedme then to stone.Voiceless I stood as though I ne'er

had sung.Pulselessand lost, for ever more alone.Without a sigh, without a tear to

shed,Grief held me. Grief who has no

word to say.69


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SAPPHO TO PHAONThen, rising as one rises from the

dead.My soul broke forth as one breaks

forth to slay.Rending and wounding all this

frame of mine.Cursing the Gods, the moments

and the years,Now like the clouds of storm,where lightnings shine.

Uplifted,then

resolvinginto tears.

Debased, when turns my brother inhis scorn

My grief to laughter, pointing tomy child ;Till madness takes me as the firethe corn

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SAPPHO TO PHAONAnd, in reviling thee, I stand

reviled.Ah but at night.

At night I turn to thee.In dreams our limbs are joined, as

flame with flame,In dreams again your arms are

girdling me,I taste your soul in joys I blush to

name.

Ah but the day that follows onthe night.The emptiness that drives me tothe plainTo seek those spots that knew mylost delight,

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SAPPHO TO PHAONThe grotto that shall shield us not

again.

Here lies the grass we pressed indeeds of love.

Lips, limbs entwinedI kiss theground to-day.

The herbs lie withered, and thebirds that move

Are songless, and the very trees aregrey.Night takes the day and falls uponthe groves.

The nightingale alone is left to cry.Lamenting, in the song that sorrow

loves.To Tereus she calls, to Phaon, L

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SAPPHO TO PHAONII

There is a spring, through whosecool water showsThe sand like silver, clear as seenthrough air.

There is a spring, above whosemirror growsA lotus like a grove in flower fair.

Here, as I lay in tears, a spiritstood

Born of the water, then she calledto me,

Sappho, pursuing Love, by Griefpursued,

Sappho, beside the blue Leucadiansea

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SAPPHO TO PHAONThere stands a rock, and there

above the caves.Whose wandering echoes reach

Apollo's fane,Dow^n leaping to the blue and

breaking waves,Lovers find sleep, nor dream of

love again.Deucalion here found ease from

Pyrrah's scorn,Sappho arise, and where the sharp

cliffs fall.Thy body, that had better not been

born.Cast to the waves, the blue, blue

waves that call.I rise, and weeping silently, I go.

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SAPPHO TO PHAONMy fear is great, my love is greater

still.

Better oblivion than the love Iknow.

Kinder than Phaon's is the bluewave's will.

Ye favouring breezes, guard me onthis day,

Love, lend your pinions, waft meo'er the sea

Where, lovely Phoebus, on thyshrine I'll lay

My lyre, with this inscription untothee :

" Sappho to Phoebus consecrates herlyre,

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SAPPHO TO PHAONUnto the God the gift, the fire to

fire."

IllAlas and woe is me.

But must I go ?O Phaon, Phoebus' self to me is lessThan Phaonwill you cast medown belowAll broken, for the cruel rocks to

pressThis breast, that loved thee, ruined ?Ah the songBorn of the Muses leaves me and

the lyreIs voicelessthey no more to me

belong,76


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SAPPHO TO PHAONAnd in this darkness dies the

heavenly fire.

Farewell, ye girls of Lesbos, fare yewell ;No more the groves shall answer tomy song.

No more these hands shall wakethe lyre to tellOf Love, of Lifeto Phaon theybelong,And he has fled.

O Loveliness, return,Make once again my soul to singin joy.

Feed once again this heart withfires that burn,

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SAPPHO TO PHAONGods can no prayers avail but to

destroy,

No songs bring back the lost, nosighs recall

The lost that was my love, my life,my all ?

Return Return Raise to the wind thy sail,Across the sea bring back to me

the years,Eros shall lend to thee the favour-

ing gale.The track is sure where Aphroditesteers.

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SAPPHO TO PHAONLet thy white sail be lifted on the

rimOf sky that marks the dark dividing

seas.Failing that far-off sail, remain

the dimBlue depths where once Deucalion

found release.Failing that far-off sail, the waves

shall giveDeath, or Forgetlulness, whilst still

I live.

THE END


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PRINTED BYHAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD.LONDON AND AYLESBURY.


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H. de Vere Stacpoole - Sappho - A New Rendering

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