Sappho 1 (“Prayer to Aphrodite”)
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You with pattern-woven flowers, immortal Aphrodite,
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child of Zeus, weaver of wiles, I implore you,
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do not devastate with aches and sorrows,
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Mistress, my heart!
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But come here [tuide], if ever at any other time
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hearing my voice from afar,
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you heeded me, and leaving the palace of your father,
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golden, you came,
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having harnessed the chariot; and you were carried along by beautiful
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swift sparrows over the dark earth,
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swirling with their dense plumage from the sky through the
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midst of the aether,
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and straightaway they arrived. But you, O holy one,
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smiling with your immortal looks,
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kept asking what is it once again this time [dē’ute] that has happened to me and for what reason
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once again this time [dē’ute] do I invoke you,
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and what is it that I want more than anything to happen
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to my frenzied [mainolās] heart [thūmos]? “Whom am I once again this time [dē’ute] to persuade,
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setting out to bring her to your love? Who is doing you,
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Sappho, wrong?
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For if she is fleeing now, soon she will give chase.
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If she is not taking gifts, soon she will be giving them.
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If she does not love, soon she will love
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even against her will.”
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Come to me even now, and free me from harsh
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anxieties, and however many things
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my heart [thūmos] yearns to get done, you do for me. You
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become my ally in war.