.
.
.
Immortal Aphrodite, on your intricately brocaded throne,
child of Zeus, weaver of wiles, this I pray:
Dear Lady, don’t crush my heart with pains and sorrows.
But come here, if ever before, when you heard my far-off cry, you listened.
And you came, leaving your father’s house, yoking your chariot of gold.
Then beautiful swift sparrows led you over the black earth
from the sky through the middle air, whirling their wings into a blur.
.Sappho.
❤️













