'Poem I'

Immortal Aphrodite of the beautiful throne,
Guile-weaving child of Zeus, I pray you,
Do not oppress with pain and sorrow
(O queen) my heart.

But come here, if ever another time,
Noticing my prayers from far away,
You heard, and leaving your father's house
Of gold, you came,

Your chariot under you, driven by fair
Swift doves flying over the black earth,
With their strong wings, fluttering down
Straight from the sky,

And soon they arrived; and you, o blessed one,
A smile upon your immortal face,
Asked what was wrong this time, and why
I called you this time,

And what I wanted most of all to happen,
In my mad heart; "Who shall I persuade this time
To bring you back into her favor? Who, O
Sappho, has hurt you?

And if now she flees, she soon will chase you;
If now she refuses gifts, she will give them;
If now she does not love, soon she will love,
Though against her will."

Come to me now, too, and set me free
From bitter cares, and do everything
That my heart wishes done; and you yourself
Become my ally.

   -- Sappho