[She thought] you were like a goddess revealed in splendour,
and found in your singing her deepest delight,
but now she is conspicuous among the Lydian women
as, when the sun sets, the rose-fingered Moon
subdues all the stars. She throws her light
alike across the salty sea and over flowering fields.
A beautiful dew is poured down, and the roses flourish,
the delicate chervil and the flowering clover.
And often, as she wanders, remembering gentle Atthis,
desire gnaws in her slender breast and pain eats out her heart.
translated by Gillian Spraggs
© Gillian Spraggs, 1998, 2006
page added to site on 25 February, 2006 |
last modified 24 November, 2006