Sappho Dancing*

Eros the melter of limbs (now again) stirring me-
sweetbitter unmanageable creature who steals in,

who time will now call Melissa

*

Sweet mother I cannot work the loom
I am broken with longing for a boy by slender Aphrodite

And she has chosen cruelly this time:

his stomach is hard
but his head is soft

Still I long for him to place flowers
in my giggling hair

*

do I still yearn for my virginity?

I yearn for life untapped

*

thought barefoot

lived shod

died sad

*

Sappho-archaeological project
is more because of this

and so much less

* Author’s Note: Sappho was a poet from sixth century B.C. Greece. Only small fragments of her work survive. Even these meager leavings, though, show her to be one of the most important and accomplished poets in working in any language at any time. This is my attempt to “dance” with her a bit, to collaborate thru the years. I claim no equality on my part-the challenge simply sounded like fun to me. Sapphos’s words appear in italics, mine in standard font. Translations of Sappho by Anne Carson from If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho (Vintage, New York, 2003).

ROB WOODARD is a novelist and poet  based out of Long Beach, California. he is also the editor of the Burning Shore Review. He can be reached thru the “Contact” section of this website.