05-01-2022, 06:24 PM
(This post was last modified: 05-07-2022, 05:06 PM by RiverNotch.)
Song of the Mytilenian Women
I have become convinced that Sappho in her poetry
does not express her own emotions
but speaks, either in her own voice, or through a chorus,
for the community... --André Lardinois
Dressed in their finest linen, their ears and necks
spangled with gold and silver, the women of Mytilene
gather to form a chorus: hear them intone the words
of their black-haired chief
as they imagine men in the place of the woman
their chief had wished that deathless Aphrodite,
the one they now address, would return
to end her longing.
High voices reach the goddess, while the low
drone that ties the performance together
honors with its pre-verbal "Na" the goddess
who rules the dead.
"Some say that an army of ships is the most beautiful
thing on this black earth", the chorus sings
to welcome those returning from the perils
of vengeance and the sea
while the infernal queen prepares for her return
to her gloomy realm, but now she sits
where once she roused her husband grant the wish
of despondent Orpheus
with tears -- but now it is winter -- and the women
must rouse the men help bring new life
to the city. "Come to us now", and their ode
transforms into a paean
as the chorus scatters: the maidens start for the fields
where they'll weave crowns out of flowers they dried
over the summer, the wives march to their homes
side-by-side with their husbands,
and black-haired Sappho joins the low-voiced crones
to the temples of their protector Hera,
their preserver Hestia, and their bosom-friend
Persephone.
I have become convinced that Sappho in her poetry
does not express her own emotions
but speaks, either in her own voice, or through a chorus,
for the community... --André Lardinois
Dressed in their finest linen, their ears and necks
spangled with gold and silver, the women of Mytilene
gather to form a chorus: hear them intone the words
of their black-haired chief
as they imagine men in the place of the woman
their chief had wished that deathless Aphrodite,
the one they now address, would return
to end her longing.
High voices reach the goddess, while the low
drone that ties the performance together
honors with its pre-verbal "Na" the goddess
who rules the dead.
"Some say that an army of ships is the most beautiful
thing on this black earth", the chorus sings
to welcome those returning from the perils
of vengeance and the sea
while the infernal queen prepares for her return
to her gloomy realm, but now she sits
where once she roused her husband grant the wish
of despondent Orpheus
with tears -- but now it is winter -- and the women
must rouse the men help bring new life
to the city. "Come to us now", and their ode
transforms into a paean
as the chorus scatters: the maidens start for the fields
where they'll weave crowns out of flowers they dried
over the summer, the wives march to their homes
side-by-side with their husbands,
and black-haired Sappho joins the low-voiced crones
to the temples of their protector Hera,
their preserver Hestia, and their bosom-friend
Persephone.