The Laments of Sappho
Sappho,knownas“ThePoetess"from the Greek island of Lesbos, was an acclaimed poet noted in antiquity for herversesonlove.Shewasadevoteeof Aphrodite,andinspiredbyherutterly sun-soaked fragments invoking the goddess of love, the laments in this collectionarethoroughlydedicatedto her and her woolgatherings as the TenthMuse.
Towhomeverdevoursthis,
Some of these verses burgeon from the maladyofhope,andsomefromthelossof it.Takepityontheheartfromwhichthey have bloomed. The heady torrents of longingcanfreethesoulasmuchasentrap it,sotreadlightly.Isincerelyhopethatthis brief collection can somehow fuse itself withapieceofyoursoul.Ihopeyourheart isoverwhelmedwithrawnesstoattestthat you must protect it—protect that delicate organ that pumps blood into your very being,foritistheonlyoneyouhave.
Withoutwax, Isabela
Mathilde❦
This little amalgamation of love poems, written amidst the fancies of desire and delusion,ispublishedinhonourofsapphics and dedicated to lovers. Brimming with passion, The Laments of Sappho, contemplatestheconnectionofsouls,that longing for immortality, with constant allusions to nature and the cosmos. From poemswritteninthewhimsiesofthemind tocarefullydedicatedyearnings,itfurther explores how the psyche of youth is halfconsumed and voracious in the pandemonium of being. Created with no seriousness but with full dedication, these works are accompanied by paintings that wereessentialinspirationstotheauthor.
"Whatmyfrenziedheartcravedinutteryearning, Whomitswilddesirewouldpersuadetopassion?
Whatdisdainfulcharms,madlyworshipped,slight thee?"
SAPPHO|ODETOAPHRODITE
DeathofSappho,1881 MiguelCarbonellSelva
“Herpoet’slipsdrippedofhoneyandwine
Herkisstouchedandalleviatedsouls
Savouringitsbitternesswithsaccharineambrosia
Fuellingthegods’desideriaandpaintinguswithgold
PraisestotheartfullyadornedAphrodite
Pearlsinclamshellsdrippingoflove’snectar
Sapphicsentencesofferedassentiments
Bathinginblisshathengulfedthelovers
Everythingshetouchedwasblesseddivinity
Radiantbeings,bondseternalinmetamorphosis
Existentbeautyinherchaosofsacreddevotion
Thelove-starvedpoetsheldwithintheirvices.”
“Inthislovesick nightmare
Myfleshfeelsforeignto me
AndIamrevoltedbythis lingeringhope
Ahopethatinfectsthose whocannotaffordit God,Iamplaguedbythis tenderemotion
Thepoetry,an unfortunatesideeffect
Myskinblackeningas bugscrawloutmy stomach
Myheartstillaching,still beating,rots
Sohere’sawarningto poetsandfools:stop.”
Old Gods
Howgrotesque,myheartinyourhand,you keptit.
For centuries I felt myself withering with littledeaths
Butitismyheart,stillwholeandbeating, thatisforeveryours.
Your placid kisses, I relished, so divine, hauntmestill.
They burned me like poems, branding my skin,
Carvedinmybonessothatwhenpeoplecry overwhatremainsofus, Theyareshaken.
Utterlyconvulsedbytheravenousgodthat bewitchedus Thegodsthatbecameus.
