Hymn to Aphrodite
by Sappho
Leave Crete,
Aphrodite,
and come to this
sacred place
encircled by apple trees,
fragrant with offered smoke.Here, cold springs
sing softly
amid the branches;
the ground is shady with roses;
from trembling young leaves,
a deep drowsiness pours.
In the meadow,
horses are cropping
the wildflowers of spring,
scented fennel
blows on the breeze.
In this place,
Lady of Cyprus, pour
the nectar that honors you
into our cups,
gold, and raised up for drinking.
Evening Star who gathers everything
Shining dawn scattered—
You bring the sheep and the goats,
You bring the child back to its mother.
Translated by Diane Rayer. From Women in Praise of the Sacred, edited by Jane Hirshfield (New York: HarperPerennial, 1994). Used by arrangement with HarperPerennial, a division of HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.
