She is a weaver of words
A singer of songs
She can even charm the birds
They listen to her in throngs
She breathes life into her verse
It is immortal
Churchmen said she was perverse
They said she was infernal
So they burnt her poetry
Up in smoke it rose
To church prayers of bigotry
What poems are lost, who knows?
But Sappho has found a way
2005
A fragment saw light of day
And her words became alive
A new poem (new to us)
In Aeolic Greek
Was found in Oxyrinchus
An ancient tip so to speak
Her theme was her advanced age
Poor Sappho was old
Her words on the fragment's page
Were still like finely spun gold
And even more recently
Well, this year in fact
Some more of her poetry
Saw light, two to be exact
These were from a young Sappho -
All of these verses
When read come alive and glow
In spite of churchmen's curses
You are a word magician
Deeply lyrical
And the human condition?
You make it so personal
You are indeed eternal
And so is your verse
It’s they who are infernal
It is they who are perverse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem