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diff --git a/76646-0.txt b/76646-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a09b38 --- /dev/null +++ b/76646-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4402 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76646 *** + + + + + + THE SONGS OF BILITIS + + Of this book, intended for private circulation, only 975 copies have + been printed, after which the type has been distributed. + + + This is Number 229 + + [Illustration] + + + + + PIERRE LOUŸS + + THE SONGS OF BILITIS + + Translated from the Greek + + _A New Rendering in English + With Notes and Comment_ + + [Illustration] + + + PRIVATELY PRINTED + MCMXIX + + + + +THIS LITTLE BOOK OF ANTIQUE LOVE IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED TO THE YOUNG + GIRLS OF THE SOCIETY OF THE FUTURE + + + + + THE SONGS OF BILITIS + + + + +LIFE OF BILITIS + + +Bilitis was born at the beginning of the sixth century before our era in +a mountain village situated on the banks of the Melas, to the east of +Pamphylia. The country is stony and sad, shadowed by profound forests, +dominated by the enormous mass of Tauros; lime springs issue from the +rocks; great salty lakes abide on the heights, and the valleys are +filled with silence. + +She was the daughter of a Greek and of a Phœnician woman. She seems +never to have known her father for he is not mentioned in any part of +the souvenirs of her childhood. Perhaps he died before she came into the +world. Otherwise, it would be hard to explain how she bore a Phœnician +name which her mother alone could have given her. + +In this almost deserted land, she lived a tranquil life with her mother +and her sisters. Other young girls, who were her friends, lived not far +from her. On the woody slopes of Tauros, the shepherds pastured their +flocks. + +In the morning, at the crow of the cock, she arose, went to the stable, +led the animals to drink and busied herself milking them. During the +day, if it rained, she remained in the gynæceum and spun wool from her +distaff. If the weather was fair, she ran in the fields and played a +thousand games, with her companions, of which she speaks. + +Bilitis regarded the Nymphs with ardent piety. The sacrifices which she +offered, nearly every day, were for their fountain. She often speaks of +them but it seems that she never saw them, for she reports with so much +veneration the accounts of an old man who, one day, had surprised them. + +The close of her pastoral existence was saddened by a love of which we +know little, although she speaks of it at length. She ceased to sing of +it when it became unhappy. Having become the mother of a child which she +abandoned, Bilitis quitted Pamphylia for unknown reasons and never +returned to the place of her birth. + +We find her again at Mytilene where she went by way of the sea along the +fair coasts of Asia. She was then scarcely sixteen years old, according +to the conjectures of M. Heim, who established with probability some +dates in the life of Bilitis from a verse which alludes to the death of +Pittakos. + +Lesbos was then the centre of the world. On the main road between +beautiful Attica and magnificent Lydia, it had for its capital a city +more elegant than Athens and more corrupt than Sardis: Mytilene, built +upon a peninsula overlooking the shores of Asia. The blue sea +encompassed the city. From the height of the temples one could +distinguish on the horizon the white line of Atarnea which was the port +of Pergamos. + +The narrow streets were always encumbered by a throng resplendent in +many-colored stuffs, tunics of purple and of hyacinth, cyclas of +transparent silks, mantles trailing in the dust of the yellow shoes. The +women carried in their ears great rings of gold set with raw pearls, and +on their arms massive bracelets of silver roughly chiseled in relief. +The men themselves wore their hair brilliantly perfumed with rare oils. +The Greeks wore sandals with the ends fastened to their bare ankles by +large serpents of bright metal, while the Asiatics wore soft, tinted +boots. The passers-by stood in groups before the façades of the shops +where the goods for sale were on display: rugs of sombre colors, cloths +worked with threads of gold, jewels of amber and of ivory, according to +the quarter. The animation of Mytilene did not end with the day; there +was no hour so late that one could not hear, through the open doors, the +joyous sounds of instruments, the cries of women, the noise of dances. +Pittakos himself, who wished to give a little order to this perpetual +debauch, made a law in defense of players of the flute too young to be +employed in the nocturnal festivals; but this law, like all laws that +pretend to change the course of natural morals, determined the secrecy +but not the observance. + +In a society where the husbands were occupied at night with wine and +dancing-girls, the women could not fail to unite and find, among +themselves, consolation for their solitude. Thus it was that they +softened to those delicate loves to which antiquity has given their +name, and which have, whatever men may think, more of true passion than +invoked viciousness. + +At this time, Sappho was still beautiful. Bilitis knew her and speaks of +her under the name of Psappha which she bore at Lesbos. Without doubt +she was the admirable woman who taught the little Pamphilian the art of +singing in rhythmic phrases, whereby she preserved to posterity the +remembrance of her loves. Unfortunately, Bilitis has given us few +details of this woman, today so little known, and this is to be +regretted, since the least word is precious which touches that great +Inspiration. Instead, she has left us thirty elegiacs, the history of +her love for a young girl of her own age whom she calls Mnasidika, and +who lived with her. Already we knew the name of this young girl from a +verse of Sappho in which her beauty is exalted; but the name even is +doubtful, and Bergk almost thinks that she was called simply Mnais. The +songs we will read soon, prove that this hypothesis may be abandoned. +Mnasidika seems to have been a little girl, very sweet and very +innocent, one of those charming persons whose mission is simply to +permit themselves to be adored, so cherished that they make little +effort to merit that which is given them. Loves without motives last the +longest: this one endured for ten years. One knows how it was broken +through the fault of Bilitis whose excessive jealousy admitted no +eclecticism. + +When she felt that nothing held her longer to Mytilene, except unhappy +memories, Bilitis made a second voyage; she went to Cypros, an island +Greek and Phœnician like Pamphylia itself, which must have recalled to +her the aspect of her native country. + +It was there that Bilitis began her life for the third time and in a +manner my readers will understand with difficulty unless they recall the +point to which love was considered holy among the people of antiquity. +The courtesans of Amathus were not, like ours, lost creatures, exiled +from all worldly society; they were girls from the best families of the +city. Aphrodite had given them beauty and they thanked the goddess and +consecreated to the service of her worship the beauty they had received. +All the cities, like those of Cypros, that possessed a temple rich in +courtesans, regarded these women with careful respect. + +The incomparable history of Phryne, as transmitted to us from the +Athenæum, gives some idea of the nature of this veneration. It is not +true that Hyperides stripped her naked to soften the Areopagos, and +because her crime was great: she had committed murder. The orator tore +off the top of her tunic and revealed only her breasts. And he +supplicated the judges: “Do not put to death the priestess and the +inspired of Aphrodite.”--In distinction from the other courtesans who +went out in transparent cyclas through which all the details of their +bodies appeared, Phryne wore a costume which enveloped even her hair in +a great folded vestment of which the statuettes of Tanagra have +preserved the grace. No one, unless it were her lovers, had ever seen +her arms and her shoulders, and she never appeared in the pool of the +public baths. But one day an extraordinary thing occurred. It was the +day of the festival of Eleusis; twenty thousand people had come from all +parts of Greece and were assembled on the sea-shore when Phryne advanced +to the waves: she removed her garment, she unfastened her cincture, she +removed even her under tunic, “she unrolled her hair and entered the +sea.” And in that throng stood Praxiteles who, after this living +goddess, designed the Aphrodite of Knidos; and Apelles who, from her, +revealed his Anadyomene. Admirable people, to whom naked Beauty could +appear without exciting laughter or false shame! + +I would that this history were that of Bilitis, for, in translating her +songs, I have learned to love the friend of Mnasidika. Without doubt her +life was also wonderful. I regret only that she is not spoken of oftener +by ancient authors, and that those whose works have survived, give us +so few tokens of her person. Philodemos, who pillaged her twice, does +not even mention her name. In default of better anecdotes, I beg that +you will be contented with the details which she herself has given us +about her life as a courtesan. That she was a courtesan is undeniable; +and even her last songs prove that, if she had the virtues of her +vocation, she had also its worst weaknesses. But I would know only her +virtues. She was pious and skillful. She remained faithful to the temple +so long as Aphrodite consented to prolong the youth of her purest +adorer. “The day when she ceased to be loved, she ceased to write,” she +has said. Nevertheless it is difficult to admit that the songs of +Pamphylia could have been written at the epoch when the events took +place. How could a little shepherdess of the mountains learn to scan +verses according to the difficult rhythms of the Æolic delivery? It is +more reasonable to believe that, become old, Bilitis found pleasure in +singing for herself the remembrances of her childhood. We know nothing +of this last period of her life. We know not even at what age she died. + +Her tomb was found by M. C. Heim at Paleo-Limisso, at the side of an +antique road, not far from the ruins of Amathus. These ruins have +almost disappeared within the last thirty years and the stones of the +house where perhaps Bilitis lived, today pave the quays of Port Said. +But the tomb was subterranean, according to the Phœnician custom, and it +had escaped even the treasure hunters. + +M. Heim entered it by a narrow pit, once filled with earth, at the +bottom of which he found a walled-up door which had to be demolished. +The wide, low tomb, paved with slabs of limestone, had four walls +covered with plaques of black amphibolite, on which were graven, in +primitive capitals, all the songs we are about to read, except the three +epitaphs which decorated the sarcophagus. + +There reposed the friend of Mnasidika in a great coffin of terra-cotta, +under a cover modeled in delicate sculpture which figured in the clay +the visage of the dead. The hair was painted black, the eyes half closed +and prolonged by the crayon as though she were living and the painted +cheek softened by a slight smile which brought out the lines of the +mouth. Nothing can ever tell of those lips, so clean-cut, with a soft +outward curve, united one to the other and as though intoxicated by +their own contact. + +When the tomb was opened, she appeared in the state in which a pious +hand had placed her, twenty-four centuries before. Vials of perfume hung +from pegs of clay, and one of these, after so long a time, was still +fragrant. The mirror of polished silver in which Bilitis had viewed +herself, the stylus which had trailed the blue pigment over her eyelids, +were found in their place. A little naked Astarte, relic forever +precious, watched always over the skeleton ornamented with all its +jewels of gold, and white like a snow-covered branch, but so soft and so +fragile that at the first breath it mingled with the dust. + +PIERRE LOUŸS. + +Constantinople. August 1894. + + + + +I + +BUCOLICS IN PAMPHYLIA + + Ἀδύ δέ μοι τό μέλισμα, καὶ ἤν σύριγγι μελίσδω κἤν αύλῷ + λαλέω, κἤν δώνκκι, κἤν πλαγιαύλῳ. + THEOCRITOS. + + “Sweet, too, is my music, whether I make + melody on pipe, or discourse on the flute, or reed, + or flageolet.” + + (XX--28-29. Lang.) + + + + +THE TREE + + + Stripped of my clothes, I climbed into a tree; my bare thighs + embraced the smooth, moist bark; my sandals trod upon the branches. + + At the top, yet under the leaves and shadowed from the heat, I sat + astride a projecting branch and balanced my feet in the void. + + It rained. The water drops fell and slipped over my skin. My hands + were stained with moss and my toes were reddened from crushed + flowers. + + When the wind passed through the branches I felt the fair life of + the tree; then I pressed my legs yet closer and laid my open lips + upon the hairy nape of a bough. + + + + +II + +PASTORAL SONG + + + Let us sing a pastoral song; call upon Pan, god of the wind of + summer. Selenis and I each watch our flocks, from the round shadow + of an olive tree which trembles. + + Selenis lies upon the meadow. She raises herself and runs, searches + for grasshoppers, gathers the flowers and herbs or bathes her face + in the cool waters of the brook. + + And I--I draw up the wool from the white backs of the sheep to + garnish my distaff, and I spin. The hours move slowly. In the sky, + an eagle passes. + + The shadow turns; let us move the basket of flowers and the jar of + milk. Let us sing a pastoral song, call upon Pan, god of the wind + of summer. + + + + +III + +MATERNAL ADVICE + + + My mother bathes me in the darkness, she dresses me in the bright + sunlight and arranges my hair in the light of lamps; but if we walk + out in the moonlight she draws my girdle into a double knot. + + She says to me: “Play with virgins, dance with little children; + look not out of the window, shun the words of young men and turn + from the counsel of widows. + + “One evening, someone will take thee, as others are taken, over the + threshold, amidst a great assemblage with sonorous drums and + amorous flutes. + + “That evening, when thou goest away, Bilito, thou wilt leave me + three gourds of gall, one for the morning, one for midday and the + third, the bitterest, the third for the days of festival.” + + + + +IV + +THE NAKED FEET + + + I have black hair all the length of my back and a small round cap. + My shirt is of white wool. My legs are fast browned by the sun. + + If I lived in the city, I would wear jewels of gold and garments + broidered with gold and shoes of silver.... I regard my naked feet + in their slippers of dust. + + Psophis! come here, little beggar! carry me to the spring, bathe my + feet in thy hands and press olives and violets to perfume them like + the flowers. + + Today thou shalt be my slave, thou shalt follow me and serve me + and, at the end of the day, I will give thee, for thy mother, + lentils from my garden. + + + + +V + +THE OLD MAN AND THE NYMPHS + + + A blind old man lives upon the mountain. For looking upon the + nymphs, his eyes have been dead for a long time. And, since, his + happiness is a distant memory. + + “Yes, I have seen them,” he said to me; “Helopsychria, Limnanthis; + they were standing near the bank of the green pool of Physos. The + water sparkled higher than their knees. + + “Their necks inclined beneath their long hair. Their nails were + thin as the wings of grasshoppers. Their nipples were hollowed like + the cups of hyacinths. + + “They trailed their fingers upon the water and drew up, from an + invisible vase, the long-stemmed water-lilies. Around their parted + thighs, the ripples slowly widened.” + + + + +VI + +SONG + + + “Tori-tortue, what doest thou amongst us?--I wind the wool and the + thread of Milet.--Alas! Alas! Why dost thou not dance?--I am very + sorrowful. I am very sorrowful. + + “Tori-tortue, what doest thou amongst us?--I cut a reed for a + funereal flute.--Alas! Alas! What has befallen him!--I will not + tell. I will not tell. + + “Tori-tortue, what doest thou amongst us?--I press the olives for + oil for the stèle.--Alas! Alas! And who, then, is dead?--Canst thou + ask? Canst thou ask? + + “Tori-tortue, what doest thou amongst us?--He has fallen into the + sea....--Alas! Alas! And how is that?--From the backs of white + horses. From the backs of white horses.” + + + + +VII + +THE PASSER-BY + + + As I was seated in the evening before the door of the house, a + young man passed by. He looked at me, I turned away my head. He + spoke to me but I did not answer. + + He wished to approach me. I took a sickle from the wall and I would + have cut open his cheek if he had advanced another step. + + Then, drawing back a little, he began to smile and breathed in his + hand toward me, saying: “Receive the kiss.” And I cried! And I + wept! So much so that my mother hastened to me. + + Alarmed, believing that I had been stung as though by a scorpion, I + wept: “He embraced me.” My mother also embraced me and carried me + away in her arms. + + + + +VIII + +THE AWAKENING + + + It is already light I should rise. But the drowsiness of morning is + sweet and the warmth of my bed enfolds me closer. I long to remain + lying so. + + Soon I will go to the stable. I will give the goats grass and + flowers and a flask of fresh water drawn from the well where I will + drink with them. + + Then I will fasten them to the post and milk their soft, warm + udders; and if the kids are not jealous, I will suck with them from + the supple teats. + + Amaltheia, has she not fed Dzeus? Therefore I will go. But not yet. + The sun has risen too soon and my mother is not yet awake. + + + + +IX + +THE RAIN + + + The fine rain has fallen over all things, gently and in silence. It + still rains a little. I will go out among the trees. My feet shall + be naked, so that I will not soil my shoes. + + The rain of springtime is delicious. The branches, laden with moist + flowers, have a perfume which bewilders me. One sees the sparkle of + the sun on the delicate bark. + + Alas! how many flowers upon the ground! How pitiful, these flowers + which have fallen. They should not be gathered and mixed with the + mud but saved for the bees. + + The beetles and the snails traverse the path between the puddles of + water; I would not tread upon them nor frighten the golden lizard + which stretches out, blinking his eyelids. + + + + +X + +THE FLOWERS + + + Nymphs of the woods and fountains, sweetest of friends, I am here. + Hide not, but come to my aid for I am burdened with many flowers. + + I would choose, from all the forest, a poor hamadryad with raised + arms and in her hair, the color of the leaves, I will place my + heaviest rose. + + See: I have taken so many from the fields that I cannot carry them + away unless you help me make a garland. If you refuse, beware: + + She of you with the orange hair, I saw her yesterday embraced like + a beast by the satyr Lamprosathes and I will denounce the shameless + one. + + + + +XI + +IMPATIENCE + + + I threw myself into her arms and wept and for a long time she felt + my hot tears slip over her shoulders; then, when my sorrow let me + speak: + + “Alas, I am only a child; the young men never look at me. When will + I have, like thee, a young woman’s breasts to raise my robe and + entice kisses? + + “There are no curious eyes if my tunic slips; no one gathers up the + flower that falls from my hair, nor does anyone threaten to kill me + if my mouth is given to another.” + + She replied to me tenderly: “Bilitis, little virgin, thou criest + like a cat at the moon and thou art troubled without reason. The + girls who are most impatient are not the soonest chosen.” + + + + +XII + +COMPARISONS + + + Bergeronnet, bird of Kypris, sing with our first desires! The fresh + bodies of young girls bloom with flowers like the earth. The night + of all our dreams approaches and we talk of it among ourselves. + + Sometimes we compare, all together, the differences in our + beauties, our hair already long, our young breasts still small, our + puberties round like shells and hidden under the nascent down. + + Yesterday I competed with Melantho, my elder sister. She was proud + of her breasts which had grown in a month, and pointing to my + straight tunic, she called me “Little Child.” + + No man could see us, we placed ourselves naked before the girls, + and if she vanquished me on one point, I far surpassed her on all + others. Bergeronnet, bird of Kypris, sing with our first desires! + + + + +XIII + +THE FOREST RIVER + + + I bathed myself, alone, in the forest river. I am sure I frightened + the naiads for I divined them moving anxiously far within the dark + water. + + I called them. To resemble them better, I plaited upon my neck + irises black as my hair and branches of yellow gilliflowers. + + Of a long floating grass I made myself a green girdle and, to see + it, I pressed up my breasts and inclined my head a little. + + And I called: “Naiads! naiads! play with me, be kind.” But the + naiads are transparent, and perhaps, without knowing, I have + caressed their delicate arms. + + + + +XIV + +COME, MELISSA + + + When the sun burns less fiercely, we will go and play upon the + river banks, we will struggle for a frail crocus or for a damp + hyacinth. + + We will make them into round collars and garlands, prizes for our + running. We will take each other by the hand and by the ends of our + tunics. + + Come, Melissa! give us honey. Come, Naiads! we will bathe with you. + Come, Melissa! throw a shadow gently over our perspiring bodies. + + And we will offer you, kind nymphs, not shameful wine, but oil and + milk and goats with twisted horns. + + + + +XV + +THE SYMBOLIC RING + + + The voyagers who return from Sardis tell us that the women of Lydia + are covered with collars and stones from the top of their hair to + their tinted feet. + + The girls of my country have neither bracelets nor diadems, but one + of their fingers carries a silver ring and upon the bezel is graven + the triangle of the goddess. + + When they turn the point outward, they would say: “Psyche is to be + taken.” When they turn the point inward, they would say: “Psyche is + taken.” + + The men believe this, the women do not. As for me, I little regard + which way the point is turned, for Psyche offers herself freely. + Psyche is always to be taken. + + + + +XVI + +DANCES BY MOONLIGHT + + + On the soft grass, in the night, the young girls with hair of + violets have all danced together, one of each two playing the part + of lover. + + The virgins said: “We are not for you.” And, as though they were + bashful, concealed their virginity. Among the trees, an ægipan + played upon the flute. + + The others said: “We have come to seek you.” They arranged their + robes like the tunics of men and they struggled gently while + entwining their dancing legs. + + Then, each pretending to be vanquished, took her friend by the + ears, like a cup with two handles, and, inclining the head, drank a + kiss. + + + + +XVII + +THE LITTLE CHILDREN + + + The river is almost dry; the brittle reeds are dying in the mud; + the air burns and, far beyond the hollow banks, a clear brook flows + upon the gravel. + + It is there that, from morning to evening, the little naked + children come to play. They bathe themselves only as high as their + calves for the river is low. + + But they walk in the current, sometimes slipping on the rocks, and + the little boys throw water on the little girls, who laugh. + + And when a troop of passing merchants lead their great white oxen + to drink, they clasp their hands behind them and watch the enormous + beasts. + + + + +XVIII + +THE STORIES + + + I am loved by the little children; when they see me they run to me + and cling to my tunic or clasp my legs in their little arms. + + If they have gathered flowers, they give them all to me; if they + have caught a beetle, they put it in my hand; if they have nothing, + they caress me and make me sit before them. + + Then they kiss me on the cheek, they rest their heads upon my + breasts; they supplicate me with their eyes. I know well what they + would say. + + They would say: “Dear Bilitis, tell us, for we are quiet, the + history of the hero Perseus or the death of the little Hellé.” + + + + +XIX + +THE MARRIED FRIEND + + + Our mothers were pregnant at the same time and, this evening, she + is married, Melissa, my dearest friend. The roses still lie upon + the path; the torches have not yet burned out. + + And I return, by the same path, with mother, and I dream. Thus, as + she is now, I also will be later. Am I already a woman? + + The cortège, the flutes, the nuptial song and the flowered car of + the bridegroom, all the festival, some other evening, will unfold + for me under the branches of the olives. + + Like Melissa at this same hour, I shall unveil myself before a man, + I shall know love in the night, and, later, little children will + nourish themselves at my swollen breasts.... + + + + +XX + +CONFIDENCES + + + The next day I went to her house and we reddened when we saw each + other. She led me into her chamber where we would be alone. + + I had many things to say to her, but when I saw her I forgot them + all. I did not even throw myself upon her neck, I regarded her high + girdle. + + I was astonished that nothing in her face had changed, that she + still resembled my friend although, since the sleepless night, she + had learned so many things startling to me. + + Suddenly I seated myself upon her knees, took her in my arms, and + whispered quickly, anxiously, into her ear. Then she laid her cheek + against mine and told me all. + + + + +XXI + +THE MOON WITH EYES OF BLUE + + + The night mingles with the hair of women and the branches of the + willows. I walked at the edge of the water. Suddenly I heard + singing; then only I knew I was there with young girls. + + I said to them: “To whom do you sing?” They replied: “To those who + return.” One awaited her father, another her brother; but she who + awaited her lover was the most impatient. + + They had woven for themselves crowns and garlands cut from the + branches of palms and lotos drawn from the water. They rested their + arms on each other’s necks and sang one after another. + + I moved along the river, saddened and all alone, but in looking + about me I saw that, behind the great trees, the moon with eyes of + blue was guiding me. + + + + +XXII + +SONG + + + “Shadow of the woods, whence she should come, tell me, where has my + mistress gone?--She has descended upon the plain.--Plain, where has + my mistress gone?--She has followed the banks of the river.” + + “Fair river who hast seen her pass, tell me, is she near this + place?--She has left me for the path.--Path, dost thou see her + still?--She has left me for the road.” + + “O white road, road of the city, tell me, where hast thou led + her?--To the street of gold which enters into Sardis.--O street of + light, touchest thou her naked feet?--She has entered the palace of + the king.” + + “O palace, splendor of the earth, return her to me.--See! She has + collars on her breasts and circlets in her hair, an hundred pearls + along her legs, two arms around her waist.” + + + + +XXIII + +LYKAS + + + Come, we will go into the fields, under the thickets of juniper; we + will eat honey from the hives, we will make snares for grasshoppers + with the twigs of asphodels. + + Come, we will go to see Lykas who tends his father’s flocks upon + the slopes of shadowy Tauros. Surely he will give us milk. + + Already I hear the sound of his flute. He plays most skilfully. + Here are the dogs and the sheep and he himself standing against a + tree. Is he not fair as Adonis! + + O Lykas! give us milk. Here are figs from our fig trees. We would + rest with thee. Bearded goats, do not leap, for fear of exciting + the restless bucks. + + + + +XXIV + +THE OFFERING TO THE GODDESS + + + It is not for Artemis whom they adore at Perga, this garland woven + with my hands, although Artemis may be a good goddess who would + guard my couches of pain. + + It is not for Athena whom they adore at Sidon although she may be + of ivory and of gold and carry in her hand a pomegranate which + tempts the birds. + + No, it is for Aphrodite whom I adore in my heart, for she only can + give what my lips most need, if I hang on her sacred tree my + garland of tender roses. + + But I will not ask aloud that which I beg of her. I will raise + myself upon my toes and confide my secret to a cleft in the bark. + + + + +XXV + +THE COMPLAISANT FRIEND + + + The storm continued all the night. Selenis of the beautiful hair + had come to spin with me. She remained for fear of the mud, and, + pressed one against the other, we filled my little bed. + + When girls lie together, sleep remains at the door. “Bilitis, tell + me, tell me, whom lovest thou?” She slipped her leg over mine to + caress me softly. + + And she said, against my mouth: “I know, Bilitis, whom thou lovest. + Close thine eyes, I am Lykas.” I replied, touching her: “Do I not + know thou art a girl? Thy jest fits badly.” + + But she replied: “In truth I am Lykas if thou wilt close thine + eyes. These are his arms, these are his hands....” And tenderly, in + the silence, she enchanted my reverie into a singular illusion. + + + + +XXVI + +A PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE + + + Purified by the ritual ablutions, and clad in violet tunics, we + have kissed toward the earth our hands laden with branches of + olive. + + “O Persephone of the Underworld, or whatever may be the name thou + desirest, if this name is acceptable, hear us, O Shadowy-Haired, + Queen sterile and unsmiling. + + “Kokhlis, daughter of Thrasymakos, is ill, and dangerously. Do not + call her yet. Thou knowest she cannot escape thee; one day, very + late, thou shalt take her. + + “But drag her not away so soon, O Dominatress invisible! For she + weeps because of her virginity, she supplicates through our + prayers, and we will give, for her deliverance, three black unshorn + ewes.” + + + + +XXVII + +THE GAME OF DICE + + + As we both loved him, we played with the dice. It was a great + moment. Many of the young girls looked on. + + She threw at first the cast of Kyklopes and I the cast of Solon. + But she the Kallibolos and I, feeling that I lost, I prayed to the + goddess. + + I played, I had the Epiphenon, she the terrible cast of Kios, I the + Antiteukos, she the Trikias, and I the cast of Aphrodite which won + the disputed lover. + + But, seeing her pale, I threw my arm about her neck and said, close + to her ear (so that she alone heard me): “Do not weep, little + friend, we will let him choose between us.” + + + + +XXVIII + +THE DISTAFF + + + All the day, my mother has kept me in the gynæceum with my sisters + whom I do not love and who talk among themselves in low voices. I, + in a little corner, I spin my distaff. + + Distaff, because I am alone with thee, it is to thee I will talk. + With thy wig of white wool thou art like an old woman. Listen to + me. + + If I could go, I would not be here, seated in the shadow of the + wall and spinning wearily. I would be sleeping with the violets + upon the slopes of Tauros. + + Because he is so much poorer than I, my mother will not espouse me. + However, I say to thee: either I will have no wedding day or it is + he who will lead me over the threshold. + + + + +XXIX + +THE FLUTE + + + For the day of Hyacinthus he gave me a syrinx made of carefully cut + reeds united with white wax which was sweet as honey to my lips. + + He taught me to play, seated upon his knees; but I trembled a + little. He played after me; so softly that I could scarcely hear + him. + + We had nothing to say to each other, so near we were, one to the + other; but our songs replied to each other and, by turns, our lips + touched the flute. + + It has grown late, there is the song of the green frogs who begin + with the night. My mother will never believe that I have stayed so + long searching for my lost girdle. + + + + +XXX + +THE HAIR + + + He said to me: “Last night I dreamed. I had thy hair about my neck. + I had thy locks like a black collar about my neck and over my + breast. + + “I caressed them; and they were mine; and we were bound thus + forever, by the same locks, mouth upon mouth, like two laurels with + but one root. + + “And, little by little, it seemed to me that our limbs were + mingled; that I became thyself and that thou didst enter into me + like my dream.” + + When he had finished he softly laid his hands upon my shoulders and + looked at me with so tender a regard that I lowered my eyes, + shivering. + + + + +XXXI + +THE CUP + + + Lykas saw me come to him clad only in a light scarf, for the days + had become overwhelming; he wished to mould my breast which + remained uncovered. + + He took fine clay, kneaded in the fresh, clear water. When he laid + it upon my skin I thought I should faint, for the earth was very + cold. + + From my moulded breast, he made a cup, round and umbilicated. He + placed it in the sun to dry and tinted it with purple and ochre by + pressing flowers all around it. + + Then we went to the fountain which is consecrated to the nymphs and + threw the cup into the current with stalks of gillyflowers. + + + + +XXXII + +ROSES IN THE NIGHT + + + When the night mounts into the sky, the world belongs to us and to + the gods. We go over the fields to the spring, the dark wood to the + glades, wherever our naked feet lead us. + + The little stars shine enough for such little shadows as we are. + Sometimes, beneath the branches, we find sleeping hinds. + + But more charming than all else, in the night, is a place known + only to ourselves which attracts us across the forest: a thicket of + mysterious roses. + + For nothing in the world is so divine as the perfume of roses in + the night. How is it that, in the time when I was alone, I never + felt their intoxication? + + + + +XXXIII + +REMORSE + + + At first I did not reply; shame flushed upon my cheeks, and the + beatings of my heart hurt my breasts. + + Then I resisted, I said: “No. No.” I turned away my head and the + kiss did not open my lips, nor love my fast closed knees. + + Then he begged my forgiveness, he kissed my hair, I felt his + burning breath, and he departed.... Now, I am alone. + + I regard the empty place, the deserted wood, the trampled earth. + And I bite my fingers until they bleed and smother my cries in the + grass. + + + + +XXXIV + +THE INTERRUPTED SLEEP + + + All alone I fell asleep like a partridge in the heather.... The + light wind, the murmuring of the waters, the sweetness of the + night, all held me there. + + Imprudently I slept and awakened with a cry, and I struggled, and I + wept. But already it was too late. What can the hands of a child + do? + + He would not leave me. Rather, with greater tenderness, he pressed + me closer to him, and I saw in all the world neither the earth nor + the trees but only the light in his eyes.... + + To thee, Cypris victorious, I consecrate these offerings still + moist with the dew, vestiges of the pains of virginity, witnesses + of my sleep and of my resistance. + + + + +XXXV + +THE WASH-WOMEN + + + Wash-women, say not that you have seen me! I confide in you; do not + repeat it! Between my tunic and my breasts, I bring you something. + + I am like a little frightened hen.... I know not whether I dare + tell you.... My heart beats as though I would die.... It is a veil + that I bring you. + + A veil and the ribbons from my legs. You see: there is blood upon + them. By Apollo, it was in spite of me! I defended myself well; but + the man who loves is stronger than we. + + Wash them well; spare neither the salt nor the chalk. I will place + four oboli for you at the feet of Aphrodite; even a drachma of + silver. + + + + +XXXVI + +SONG + + + When he returned, I hid my face with my two hands. He said to me: + “Fear nothing. Who has seen our kissing?--Who has seen us? the + night and the moon.” + + “--And the stars and the first dawn. The moon has mirrored herself + in the lake and has told it to the water under the willows. The + water of the lake has told it to the oar. + + “And the oar has told it to the boat and the boat has told it to + the fisher. Alas; alas! if that were all! But the fisher has told + it to a woman. + + “The fisher has told it to a woman: my father and my mother and my + sisters and all Hellas will know it.” + + + + +XXXVII + +BILITIS + + + One woman may envelop herself in white wool. Another may clothe + herself in silk and gold. Another cover herself with flowers, with + green leaves and grapes. + + Me, I enjoy life only when naked. My lover, take me as I am: + without robes or jewels or sandals. Here is Bilitis, quite alone. + + My hair is black with its own blackness and my lips red of their + own color. My locks float about me, free and round, like feathers. + + Take me as my mother made me in a night of love long past, and if I + please thee so, forget not to tell me. + + + + +XXXVIII + +THE LITTLE HOUSE + + + The little house where he has his bed is the prettiest in the + world. It is made from the branches of trees, four walls of dried + earth and a roof of thatch. + + I love it, for there we have slept since the nights have grown + cold; and as the nights become still colder, they become longer + also. When the day comes, I am very weary. + + The mattress lies upon the ground; two covers of black wool shut in + our bodies which warm each other. His chest presses against my + breasts. My heart throbs.... + + He clasps me so vigorously that he bruises me, poor little girl + that I am; but when he is within me I know nothing more of the + world, and one could cut off my limbs without awakening me from my + delight. + + + + +XXXIX + +THE LOST LETTER + + + Alas for me! I have lost his letter. I had placed it between my + skin and my strophion, under the warmth of my breast I ran; it must + have fallen. + + I will return on my steps: if someone has found it they will read + it to my mother and I shall be whipped before my jeering sisters. + + If it is a man who has found it he will give it to me; or even if + he wishes to talk to me in secret, I have the means to charm it + from him. + + If it is a woman who has read it, O Guardian Zeus protect me! for + she will tell it to all the world or she will take my lover from + me. + + + + +XL + +SONG + + + “The night is so profound that it penetrates my eyes.--Thou seest + not the road. Thou wilt lose thyself in the forest. + + “The noise of falling waters fills my ears.--Thou wouldst not hear + the voice of thy lover though he were not twenty steps away. + + “The perfume of the flowers is so powerful that I grow faint and I + shall fall.--Thou wouldst not know even if he crossed thy path. + + “Ah! he is very far from here, on the other side of the mountain; + but I see him and I hear him and I feel him as though he touched + me.” + + + + +XLI + +THE OATH + + + “When the water of the river remounts to the snow-hidden summits: + when barley and wheat is sown in the moving furrows of the sea: + + “When the pines grow from the lakes and the water-lilies from the + rocks: when the sun becomes black, when the moon falls upon the + grass: + + “Then, but only then, I will take another woman and I will forget + thee, Bilitis, soul of my life, heart of my heart.” + + He has said that to me, he has said that to me! What matters the + rest of the world; where art thou, boundless happiness which can + compare with my happiness! + + + + +XLII + +THE NIGHT + + + It is now I who search for him. Each night, very softly, I leave + the house and I go by a long path, to his meadow, to see him + sleeping. + + Sometimes I rest for a long time without speaking, happy merely in + seeing him, and I approach my lips to his and kiss only his breath. + + Then suddenly I cast myself upon him. He awakens in my arms, and he + cannot raise himself, for I struggle. He gives up, and laughs, and + clasps me. Thus we play in the night. + + ... First dawn, O wicked light, thou already! In what ever-darkened + cave, on what subterranean meadow, can we love so long that we may + lose remembrance of thee.... + + + + +XLIII + +CRADLE-SONG + + + Sleep: I have sent to Sardis for thy toys, and for thy raiment to + Babylon. Sleep, thou art the daughter of Bilitis and a king of the + rising sun. + + The wood is the palace which was built for thee alone and which I + have given to thee. The trunks of the pines are the columns; the + high branches are the arches. + + Sleep. That he may not awaken thee, I will sell the sun to the sea. + The breeze from the wings of a dove is less light than thy breath. + + Daughter of mine, flesh of my flesh, when thou openest thine eyes, + say whether thou wishest the plain or the city or the mountain or + the moon or the white cortège of the gods. + + + + +XLIV + +THE TOMB OF THE NAIADS + + + Through the woods covered with hoarfrost, I walked; my hair before + my mouth glistened with little icicles, and my sandals were heavy + with clinging and heaped-up snow. + + He said to me: “What seekest thou?--I follow the tracks of a satyr. + His little cloven steps alternate like holes in a white mantle.” He + said to me: “The satyrs are dead. + + “The satyrs and the nymphs also. For thirty years there has been no + winter so terrible. The track thou seest is that of a buck. But let + us rest here, where their tomb is.” + + And with the iron of his hoe, he broke the ice of the spring where + once laughed the naiads. He lifted the great cold masses and, + raising them toward the pale sky, he gazed about him. + + + + +ELEGIACS AT MYTILENE + + Εὐμορφοτέρα Μνασιδίκα τᾶς ἁπαλᾶς Γυριννῶς. + SAPPHO. + + “Mnasidika is more shapely than the tender Gyrinno.” + (F. 76. Wharton.) + + + + +XLV + +TO THE VESSEL + + + Beautiful ship that has brought me here, along the shores of Ionia, + I abandon thee to the glistening waves, and, with a light foot, I + leap upon the beach. + + Thou wilt return to the country where the virgin is the friend of + the nymphs. Forget not to thank those invisible counsellors, and + carry them, as an offering, this branch plucked by my hands. + + Thou wert once a pine, and, on the mountains, the vast hot Notos + shook thy branches with their squirrels and birds. + + Let Boreos be now thy guide and push thee softly toward the port, + black ship, escorted by dolphins, at the will of the kindly sea. + + + + +XLVI + +PSAPPHA + + + I rub my eyes.... Is it already day, I wonder. Ah! who is this near + me?... a woman?... By Paphia, I had forgotten.... O Charites; how I + am shamed. + + To what country am I come, and what is this island where one learns + thus of love? If I were not all wearied, I would believe it a + dream.... Is it possible that this is the Psappha? + + She sleeps.... She is certainly beautiful, although her hair is cut + like that of an athlete. But this astonishing countenance, this + virile breast, and these narrow hips.... + + I would like to go before she awakens. Alas! I am against the wall. + I must step over her. I am afraid lest I touch her hip and that she + will take me as I pass. + + + + +XLVII + +THE DANCE OF GLOTTIS AND KYSE + + + Two little girls carried me away to their house and, with the door + firmly closed, they lighted the wick of a lamp and wished to dance + for me. + + Their cheeks were not painted and were brown as their little + bellies. They pulled each other by the arms and talked at the same + time in an agony of gaiety. + + Seated on a mattress raised upon two trestles, Glottis sang in a + sharp voice and struck the measures with her sonorous little palms. + + Kyse danced shakily, then stopped, suffocated with laughter, took + her sister by the breasts, bit her on the shoulder and threw her + down like a goat that wishes to play. + + + + +XLVIII + +COUNSELS + + + Then Syllikmas entered and, seeing us so familiar, seated herself + upon the bench. She took Glottis upon one knee, Kyse on the other, + and said: + + “Come here, little one.” But I remained away. She resumed: “Art + thou afraid of us? Approach, thou: these children love thee. They + will teach thee something thou knowest not: the honey of the + caresses of a woman. + + “Man is violent and lazy. Doubtless thou knowest this. Avoid him. + He has a flat chest, a rough skin, short hair, shaggy arms. But + women are altogether beautiful. + + “Women alone know how to love; stay with us, Bilitis, stay. And if + thou hast an ardent soul, thou wilt see thy beauty, as in a mirror, + upon the bodies of women, thy lovers.” + + + + +XLIX + +UNCERTAINTY + + + I know not whether I should espouse Glottis or Kyse. As they are + not like each other, one would not console me for the other, and I + fear lest I choose badly. + + They each hold one of my hands and one of my breasts also. But to + which shall I give my mouth? to which shall I give my heart and all + that one cannot divide? + + It is shameful to remain thus, all three in one house. They talk of + it in Mytilene. Yesterday, before the temple of Ares, a woman who + passed did not greet me. + + It is Glottis whom I prefer; but I cannot reject Kyse. What would + become of her, all alone? Shall I leave them as they were, and take + for myself another friend? + + + + +L + +THE MEETING + + + I have found her like a treasure, in a field, under a bush of + myrtle, enveloped from throat to feet in a yellow peplos broidered + with blue. + + “I have no friend,” she said; “for the nearest city is forty stadia + from here. I live alone with my mother who is a widow and always + sad. If thou wishest, I will follow thee. + + “I will follow thee to thy house, were it at the other side of the + island, and I will live with thee until thou sendest me away. Thy + hand is soft and thine eyes are blue. + + “Let us go. I carry nothing with me but this little naked Astarte + which hangs from my necklace. We will put it near thine and we will + give them roses in recompense for each night.” + + + + +LI + +THE LITTLE TERRA COTTA ASTARTE + + + The little guardian Astarte which protects Mnasidika was modeled at + Camiros by a skilful potter. It is large as a thumb and of fine + yellow earth. + + Its hair falls back and curls upon its narrow shoulders. Its eyes + are cut very long and its mouth is very small. For it is the + Most-Beautiful. + + With its right hand it points to its delta which is worked with + little holes on the lower belly and along the groins. For it is the + Most-Amorous-One. + + With the left arm it supports its heavy, round breasts. Between its + wide hips protrudes a fecund belly. For it is the + Mother-Of-All-Things. + + + + +LII + +DESIRE + + + She entered and passionately, her eyes half closed, she united her + lips with mine and our tongues touched each other.... Never was + there in my life a kiss like that one. + + She stood against me, all love and contentment. One of my knees, + little by little, mounted between her hot thighs which gave way as + though for a lover. + + My hand wandered over her tunic seeking to divine the hidden body + which, by turns, undulated, yielding itself, or, arching, stiffened + itself with shiverings of the skin. + + With her eyes in delirium, she pointed toward the bed; but we had + not the right to love before the ceremony of wedding, and we + separated brusquely. + + + + +LIII + +THE WEDDING + + + In the morning they had the wedding-feast in the house of + Acalanthis whom she had adopted for a mother. Mnasidika wore the + white veil and I the male tunic. + + Then, amidst twenty women, she put on her robes of festival. + Perfumed with Bakkaris, sifted with powder of gold, her cool and + animated skin attracted furtive hands. + + In her chamber filled with foliage, she waited for me like a + spouse. And I carried her away on a chariot between myself and the + nymphagogue. One of her little breasts burned in my hand. + + They chanted the nuptial song; the flutes played also. I carried + Mnasidika under the shoulders and under the knees and we passed + over the threshold covered with roses. + + + + +LIV + +THE PAST WHICH SURVIVES + + + I will leave the bed as she has left it, unmade and rumpled, the + covers mingled, in order that the form of her body may remain + impressed beside mine. + + Until tomorrow I will not go to the bath, I I will not wear any + garments, I will not comb my hair, for fear lest I efface her + caresses. + + This morning, I will not eat, nor this evening, and upon my lips I + will place neither rouge nor powder, in order that her kiss may + remain. + + I will leave the shutters closed and I will not open the door for + fear lest the remembrance which she has left fly out upon the wind. + + + + +LV + +METAMORPHOSIS + + + Formerly I was amorous of the beauty of young men, and the + remembrance of their words kept me awake. + + I remember having graven a name in the bark of a plane-tree. I + remember having left a strip of my tunic in a path where someone + would pass. + + I remember having loved.... O Pannychis, my babe, in what hands + have I left thee? how, O unfortunate one, have I abandoned thee? + + Today, and forever, Mnasidika alone possesses me. What she receives + as a sacrifice is the happiness of those whom I have deserted for + her. + + + + +LVI + +THE NAMELESS TOMB + + + Mnasidika took me by the hand and led me outside the gates of the + city to a little uncultivated field where there was a marble stèle. + And she said: “This was the lover of my mother.” + + Then I felt a great shiver and still holding her hand, I leaned on + her shoulder in order to read the four lines between the broken cup + and the serpent: + + “It is not death which has carried me away, but the Nymphs of the + fountains. I rest here under the light earth with the severed hair + of Xantho. Let her alone weep for me. I tell not my name.” + + For a long time we remained standing, and we did not pour a + libation. For how could we call an unknown soul from the throngs of + Hades? + + + + +LVII + +THE THREE BEAUTIES OF MNASIDIKA + + + So that Mnasidika may be protected by the gods, I have sacrificed + to the Aphrodite-who-loves-the-smiles, two male hares and two + doves. + + And I have sacrificed to Ares two cocks armed for fighting, and to + sinister Hecate two dogs that howled under the knife. + + And it is not without reason that I have implored these three + immortals, for Mnasidika carries on her countenance the reflection + of their triple divinity. + + Her lips are red like copper, her hair bluish like iron and her + eyes black like silver. + + + + +LVIII + +THE CAVE OF THE NYMPHS + + + Thy feet are more delicate than those of silvery Thetis. Between + thy crossed arms thou unitest thy breasts, cradling them softly + like the bodies of two fair doves. + + Beneath thy hair thou dissemblest thy moist eyes, thy trembling + mouth and the pink flowers of thine ears; but nothing stops my + regard nor the warm breath of my kiss. + + For, in the secret of thy body, it is thou, Mnasidika, beloved, who + hidest the cave of the nymphs of which old Homer spoke, the place + where the naiads weave their purple linens. + + The place where glide, drop by drop, the inexhaustible springs and + where the gate of the North lets men descend and the gate of the + South lets immortals enter. + + + + +LIX + +MNASIDIKA’S BREASTS + + + Carefully, with one hand, she opened her tunic and offered me her + warm, sweet breasts, as one would offer to the goddess a pair of + living turtle-doves. + + “Love them well,” she said to me; “I love them so much! They are + dear, the little babes. I busy myself with them when I am alone. I + play with them; I give them pleasure. + + “I douche them with milk. I powder them with flowers. My soft hair + which drys them is dear to their little points. I caress them, and + shiver. I enfold them in wool. + + “Because I shall never have children, be their nursling, my love, + and because they are so far from my mouth, give them kisses for + me.” + + + + +LX + +THE DOLL + + + I have given her a doll, a doll of wax with cheeks of roses. Its + arms are attached by little pegs and its legs can be moved. + + When we are together, she couches it between us, and it is our + child. In the evening she cradles it and gives it the breast before + putting it to sleep. + + She has woven it three little tunics and we gave it jewels on the + day of the Aphrodisian Festival; jewels and flowers also. + + She watches over its virtue, and will not let it go out without + her; not in the sun, above all, for the little doll would melt into + drops of wax. + + + + +LXI + +TENDERNESSES + + + Sweetly close thine arms, like a girdle about me. O touch, touch my + skin thus! Neither water nor the breeze of noon-tide are so soft as + thy hand. + + Today, endear me, little sister, it is thy turn. Remember thou the + tendernesses which I taught thee in the night past, and kneel thou + silently near me, for I am wearied. + + Thy lips descend upon my lips. All thine unbound hair follows them + like a caress after a kiss. It glides over my left breast, it hides + thine eyes from me. + + Give me thy hand, it is hot! Press mine; hold it always. Hands + better than the mouths unite, and their passion is equalled by + nothing. + + + + +LXII + +GAMES + + + More than her balls or her doll, I am for her a game. With all + parts of my body, she amuses herself like a child, through the long + hours, without speaking. + + She loosens my hair and reforms it according to her caprice, + knotting it under my chin like a thick cloth, or twisting it upon + the nape of my neck, or braiding it to the end. + + She regards with astonishment the color of my lashes, the folds of + my neck. Sometimes she makes me kneel and place my hands upon the + bed: + + Then (it is one of her games) she slips her little head underneath + and imitates the trembling kid which sucks from the belly of its + mother. + + + + +LXIII + +PENUMBRA + + + Under the cover of transparent wool, we slipped, she and I. Even + our heads were covered, and the lamp shone through the cloth above + us. + + Thus I saw her dear body in a mysterious light. We were very near, + one to the other, more free, more intimate, more naked. “In the + same shift,” she said. + + We had left our hair bound up in order to be still more uncovered, + and in the close air of the bed, the odors of two women ascended, + of two natural cassolets. + + Nothing in the world, not even the lamp, saw us that night. Which + of us was loved, she alone, and I, could say. But the men know + nothing of it. + + + + +LXIV + +THE SLEEPER + + + She sleeps in her unbound hair, her hands joined behind her neck. + Does she dream? Her mouth is open; she breathes gently. + + With a bit of white swan, I dry off the perspiration of her arms, + the fever of her cheeks, but without awakening her. Her closed + eyelids are two blue flowers. + + Very softly, I will raise myself; I will go · to draw water, to + milk the cow and ask fire of the neighbors. I would arrange my hair + and dress before she opens her eyes. + + Sleep, dwell for long between her fair, curved eyelids, and + continue the happy night with a dream of good augury. + + + + +LXV + +THE KISS + + + I will kiss, from one end to the other, the long dark wings + spreading from thy neck, O sweet bird, captive dove, whose heart + bounds beneath my hand. + + I will take thy lips within my lips as an infant takes the breast + of its mother. Shudder!... for the kiss penetrates profoundly and + is sufficient to thy love. + + I will move my tongue lightly along thine arms, and upon thy neck; + and I will wind along thy sensitive sides the lengthening caress of + my nails. + + Hear, roaring in thine ears, all the rumor of the sea.... + Mnasidika! thy look makes me suffer. Like thy lips, I would close + thy burning eyelids with my kiss. + + + + +LXVI + +JEALOUS CARE + + + Do not arrange thy hair, for fear lest the over-heated iron burn + thy neck or thy locks. Leave it upon thy shoulders and spread over + thine arms. + + Do not dress thyself, for fear lest the girdle redden the slender + folds of thy hips. Remain naked like a little girl. + + Do not even rise, for fear lest thy fragile feet be injured in + walking. Repose in the bed, O victim of Eros, and I will dress thy + poor wound. + + For I would not see upon thy body other marks, Mnasidika, than the + blemish of an over-long kiss, the scratch of a sharp nail, or the + reddening bar of my embrace. + + + + +LXVII + +THE DESPAIRING EMBRACE + + + Love me, not with smiles, flutes, or plaited flowers, but with thy + heart and thy tears, as I love thee with my breast and my + lamentations. + + When thy breasts alternate with my breasts, when I feel thy life + touching my life, when thy knees stand up behind me, then my + panting mouth knows not how more to unite with thine. + + Clasp me as I clasp thee! See, the lamp has died out, we turn and + twist in the night; but I press thy moving body and I hear thy + perpetual plaint.... + + Moan! moan! moan! O woman! Eros leads us in sorrow. Thou wilt + suffer less on the bed in bringing a child into the world than when + giving birth to thy love. + + + + +LXVIII + +THE HEART + + + Breathless, I take her hand and apply it forcibly to the moist skin + of my left breast. And I turn my head here and there and I move my + lips without speaking. + + My excited heart, abrupt and hard, beats and beats in my breast as + an imprisoned satyr would knock, imprisoned in a leathern bottle. + She says to me: “Thy heart makes thee ill....” + + “O Mnasidika,” I respond, “the heart of a woman is not there. That + is only a poor bird, a dove which stirs its feeble wings. The heart + of a woman is more terrible. + + “Like a little myrtle berry, it burns with a red flame and under an + abundant foam. It is there that I feel myself bitten by voracious + Aphrodite.” + + + + +LXIX + +WORDS IN THE NIGHT + + + We rest, our eyes closed, the silence is deep about our couch. + Ineffable Nights of summer! But she, believing me asleep, lays her + warm hand upon my arm. + + She murmurs: “Bilitis, thou sleepest?” My heart throbs, but, + without response, I respire regularly like a woman couched in + dreams. Then she begins to speak: + + “Because thou hearest me not,” she says, “ah! how I love thee!” And + she repeats my name: “Bilitis.... Bilitis....” And she touches me + with the tips of her trembling fingers. + + “It is mine, this mouth! mine alone! Is there another so beautiful + in the world? Ah! my happiness, my happiness! Mine are these naked + arms, this neck and hair....” + + + + +LXX + +ABSENCE + + + She has gone out, she is far away, but I see her, for all things in + this chamber are full of her, all are related to her, and I, like + the rest. + + This bed still warm, over which I pass my mouth, is impressed with + the form of her body. On this soft pillow has lain her little head + enveloped in her hair. + + There is the basin in which she has bathed, the comb which has + penetrated the knots of her tangled hair. These slippers long for + her naked feet. The pockets of gauze enclosed her breasts. + + But that which I dare not touch with my finger is the mirror in + which she viewed her hot bruises and in which, perhaps, still + exists the reflection of her moist lips. + + + + +LXXI + +LOVE + + + Alas! if I think of her, my throat becomes dry, my head droops, my + breasts grow hard and pain me, I shiver and I weep as I walk. + + If I see her, my heart stops, my hands tremble, my feet grow cold, + the crimson of fire mounts to my cheeks, my temples throb + grievously. + + If I touch her, I become mad, my arms weaken, my knees swoon. I + fall before her and lie like a woman about to die. + + Always, whenever she speaks to me, I feel myself wounded. Her love + is torture and the passers-by hear my plaints.... Alas! How can I + call her Well-Beloved? + + + + +LXXII + +PURIFICATION + + + Thou art there! Take off thy bandelets and thy clasps and thy + tunic. Remove even thy sandals, even the ribbons of thy legs, even + the band of thy breast. + + Wash the black from thine eyebrows and the red from thy lips. + Efface the white of thy shoulders and uncurl thy hair in the water. + + For I would have thee all pure as thou wert born upon the bed at + the feet of thy fecund mother and before thy proud father. + + So chaste that my hand in thy hand will make thee redden even to + thy lips and one word of mine in thine ear will fill, with an + excess of love, thy wandering eyes. + + + + +LXXIII + +THE CRADLE OF MNASIDIKA + + + My little child, so few years have I had only thee: I love thee, + not as a lover but as though thou hadst come forth from my laboring + entrails. + + When, stretched upon my knees, thy two frail arms about me, thou + seekest my breast, thy mouth clinging, and press my nipples softly + between thy palpitating lips: + + Then I dream that, at some time, I have truly nursed this delicate + mouth, supple and moist, this vase of crimson myrrhine in which the + happiness of Bilitis is mysteriously enclosed. + + Sleep. I will cradle thee with one hand upon my knee which rocks + thee. Sleep so. I will sing for thee little mournful songs which + bring sleep to the newly-born. + + + + +LXXIV + +A PROMENADE BY THE SEA + + + As we were walking on the seashore, without speaking, and enveloped + to the chin in our robes of sombre wool, joyous young girls passed + by. + + “Ah! it is Bilitis and Mnasidika! See, the pretty little squirrel + we have caught: it is soft as a bird and timid as a rabbit. + + “At Lydia’s house we will put it in a cage, give it plenty of milk + with lettuce leaves. It is a female, she will live a long time.” + + And the mad ones set out, running. As for us, without speaking, we + seated ourselves, I on a rock, she upon the sand, and we gazed at + the sea. + + + + +LXXV + +THE OBJECT + + + Greeting, Bilitis, Mnasidika, greeting.--Be seated. How is thy + husband?--Too well. Do not tell him that you have seen me. He would + slay me if he knew I had been here.--Have no fear. + + “And this is your chamber? and this your bed? Pardon me. I am + curious.--Thou knowest, however, the bed of Myrrhina.--So + little.--It is said to be pretty.--And lascivious, O my dear! let + us not speak of it. + + “What wishest thou of me?--That thou lend me....--Speak.--I dare + not name the object.--We do not have one.--Truly?--Mnasidika is a + virgin.--Then, where can one buy it?--From the harness-maker, + Drakon. + + “Tell also, where thou buyest thy thread for embroidery? Mine + breaks if one looks at it.--I make mine myself, but that which + Nais sells is excellent.--At what price?--Three oboli.--It is dear. + And the object?--Two drachmæ.--Farewell.” + + + + +LXXVI + +EVENING NEAR THE FIRE + + + The winter is hard, Mnasidika. All is frozen, except our bed. But + rise and come with me, for I have lit a great fire with dead twigs + and broken wood. + + We will warm ourselves, crouching quite naked, our hair upon our + backs, and we will drink milk from the same cup and we will eat + cakes with honey. + + How gay and noisy the flame is! Art thou not too near? Thy skin + reddens. Let me kiss it wherever the fire has burned it. + + Amidst the ardent firebrands, I will heat the iron and I will dress + thy hair here. With dead coals I will write thy name upon the wall. + + + + +LXXVII + +SUPPLICATIONS + + + What dost thou wish? If it must be, I will sell my last jewels so + that an attentive slave may wait upon the desire of thine eyes, and + every thirst of thy lips. + + If the milk of our goats seems insipid to thee, I will hire for + thee, as for an infant, a nurse with swollen breasts who will + suckle thee each morning. + + If our bed seems rough to thee, I will buy thee all the soft + cushions, all the coverlets of silk, all the cloths, soft with + feathers, of the Amathusian merchants. + + All. But I should suffice thee, and though we sleep upon the earth, + thou shouldst find it softer than the warm bed of a stranger. + + + + +LXXVIII + +THE EYES + + + Great eyes of Mnasidika, how happy you make me when love darkens + your lids and quickens you and shadows you with tears: + + But how maddened, when you turn elsewhere, distracted by a woman + who passes or by a remembrance which is not mine. + + Then my cheeks hollow themselves, my hands tremble and I suffer.... + It seems to me from all parts, and before you, my life goes away. + + Great eyes of Mnasidika, cease not to regard me! or I will stab you + with my needle and then you will see only the terrible night. + + + + +LXXIX + +FARDS + + + All, all my life, and my world, and the men, all that is not of + her, is nothing. All that is not of her, I give to thee, passer-by. + + Does she know the labor I have accomplished to be fair to her eyes, + with my hair and with my fards, with my robes and my perfumes? + + As long a time I would turn a millstone, I would wield the oar or + labor in the earth, if it were a necessary price to retain her + here. + + But perhaps she will never know, Goddesses who watch over us. The + day she learns that I love her, she will seek another woman. + + + + +LXXX + +THE SILENCE OF MNASIDIKA + + + She had laughed all the day, and she even had mocked me a little. + She had refused to obey me before many strange women. + + When we returned, I affected not to speak to her, and, as she cast + herself upon my neck, saying: “Thou art offended?” I said to her: + + “Ah! thou art not as formerly, thou art not as on the first day. I + no longer recognize thee, Mnasidika.” She did not respond to me. + + But she put on all the jewels which she had not worn for a long + time, and the same yellow robe, broidered with blue, as on the day + of our meeting. + + + + +LXXXI + +SCENE + + + “Where wast thou?--At the flower merchant’s. I have bought some + very beautiful irises. Here they are, I have brought them to + thee.--In so long a time thou hast bought four flowers?--The + flower-woman detained me. + + “Thy cheeks are pale and thine eyes brilliant.--It is fatigue from + the walk.--Thy hair is moist and tangled.--It is the heat and the + wind which almost blew down my hair. + + “Someone has untied thy girdle. I made the knot myself, looser than + this one.--So loose that it became undone; a slave who passed + retied it for me. + + “There is a spot upon thy robe.--It is water which has fallen from + the flowers.--Mnasidika, my little soul, thine irises are fairer + than any in all Mytilene.--That I know well, that I know well.” + + + + +LXXXII + +WAITING + + + The sun has passed all the night among the dead while I have + waited, seated upon my bed, weary from watching. The wick of the + exhausted lamp has burned to the end. + + She will never return: there is the last star. I know well that she + will never return. I know even the name that I hate. Nevertheless, + I still wait. + + That she would come now! yes, that she would come, her hair + disordered and without roses, her robe soiled, spotted, rumpled, + her tongue dry and her eyelids black! + + When she opened the door, I would say to her.... But here she + is.... It is her robe that I touch, her hands, her hair, her skin! + I kiss her with distracted lips, and I weep. + + + + +LXXXIII + +SOLITUDE + + + For whom, now, shall I paint my lips? For whom shall I polish my + nails? For whom shall I perfume my hair? + + For whom are my breasts powdered with rouge, if they no longer + tempt her? For whom are my arms laved with milk, if they may never + more embrace her? + + How can I sleep? How can I lay myself upon the bed? In the evening + my hand, in all my bed, could not find her warm hand. + + I dare not return to my house, to the chamber so frightfully empty. + I dare not reopen the door. I dare not even reopen mine eyes. + + + + +LXXXIV + +A LETTER + + + That is impossible, impossible. I supplicate thee upon my knees, + with tears, all the tears I have wept over this horrible letter, + not to abandon me thus. + + Consider thou how terrible it is to lose thee forever for a second + time, after having had the great joy of hoping to reconquer thee. + Ah! my love! thou knowest not to what point I have adored thee! + + Listen to me. Consent to see me one time more. Wilt thou be, + tomorrow, at sundown, before thy door? Tomorrow, or the day + following. I will come to take thee. Do not refuse me that. + + Perhaps the last time, so, but still for this once, for this one + time! I demand it of thee, I beg it of thee, and know that, upon + thy reply, the rest of my life depends. + + + + +LXXXV + +THE ATTEMPT + + + Thou wast jealous of us, Gyrinno, too ardent girl. How many + garlands didst thou suspend from the knocker of our door! Thou + didst wait for us in the passage, and thou didst follow us in the + street. + + Now thou art, according to thy vows, extended upon the loved place + and thy head is upon the pillow about which floats the odor of + another woman. Thou art larger then she was. Thy different body + startles me. + + See! I have yielded at last. Yes, it is I. Thou mayest play with my + breasts, caress my belly, open my knees. My entire body is + delivered to thy tireless lips--alas! + + Ah! Gyrinno! with love my tears also overflow! Wipe them with thy + hair; do not kiss them, my dear; and enlace me yet closer to subdue + my tremblings. + + + + +LXXXVI + +THE EFFORT + + + Again! enough of sighs and stretching arms! Recommence! Thinkest + thou, then, that love is a recreation? Gyrinno, it is a task, and + of all the most rude. + + Awaken, thou! Thou shall not sleep! What to me are thy blue eyelids + and the bar of pain which burns thy thin legs. Astarte seethes in + my loins. + + We entered our couch with the twilight. Behold already the wicked + dawn; but I am not wearied with so little. I will not sleep before + the second evening. + + I will not sleep; neither shalt thou sleep. Oh! how bitter is the + taste of morning! Gyrinno, realize it. The embraces are more + difficult, but stranger and softer. + + + + +LXXXVII + +GYRINNO + + + Think not that I have loved thee. I have eaten thee like a ripe + fig, I have drunk thee like an ardent water, I have carried thee + about me like a girdle of skin. + + I have amused myself with thy body, because thou hast short hair, + pointed breasts upon thy lean chest, and nipples black like two + little dates. + + Like water and fruits, a woman is also necessary, but already I + have forgotten thy name, thou who hast passed through my arms like + the shadow of another adored one. + + Between thy flesh and mine, a burning dream has possessed me. I + pressed thee upon me as upon a wound and I cried: Mnasidika! + Mnasidika! Mnasidika! + + + + +LXXXVIII + +THE LAST ESSAY + + + “What wishest thou, old woman?--To console thee.--It is useless + trouble.--They have told me that since thy parting thou goest from + love to love without finding forgetfulness or peace. I have come to + offer thee someone. + + “Speak.--It is a young slave, born at Sardis. She has no equal in + the world for she is at the same time man and woman, although her + chest and her long hair and her clear voice produce the illusion. + + “Her age?--Sixteen years.--Her form?--Large. She has known no one + here except Psappha who loves her desperately and would buy her of + me for twenty minæ. If thou wouldst hire her, she is thine.--And + what will I do with her? + + “Behold, for twenty two nights I have essayed in vain to escape my + memories.... Done, I take this one more, but warn the poor little + one that she be not frightened if I sob in her arms.” + + + + +LXXXIX + +THE WOUNDING MEMORY + + + I remember ... (at what hour of the day is it not before my eyes!) + I remember the manner in which She lifted her hair with her slender + fingers so pale. + + I remember one night which she passed, her cheek upon my breast, so + softly that happiness held me awake, and the day following she had + upon her face the mark of my rounded nipple. + + I see her holding her cup of milk and regarding me sideways, with a + smile. I see her, powdered, her hair dressed, opening her great + eyes before her mirror and retouching with her finger the red of + her lips. + + And, above all, if my despair is a perpetual torture, it is because + I know, moment by moment, how she swoons in the arms of another, + and what she demands of her and what she gives. + + + + +XC + +TO THE WAX DOLL + + + Doll of wax, dear plaything which she called her child, she has + wearied of thee also and she has forgotten thee like myself, who, + with her, was thy father or thy mother, I know not which. + + The pressure of her lips has discolored thy little cheeks; and on + thy left hand see the broken finger which made her weep so much. + This little cyclas which thou wearest, it was she who broidered it + for thee. + + She said thou couldst already read. Nevertheless thou wert not + weaned, and in the evening, bending over thee, she opened her tunic + and gave thee the breast, “so that thou wouldst not cry,” she said. + + Doll, if I wished to see her again, I would give thee to Aphrodite, + as the dearest of my gifts. But I would rather think that she is + wholly dead. + + + + +XCI + +FUNERAL CHANT + + + Sing a funeral chant, muses of Mytilene, sing! The earth is sombre + like a vestment of mourning and the yellow trees shiver like shaken + hair. + + Heraios! O sweet and sorrowful month! the leaves fall gently like + snow, the sun penetrates deeply into the thinning forest.... I hear + nothing more, save the silence. + + Behold, they have carried Pittakos, laden with years, to the tomb. + Many are dead of those I knew. And she who lives is to me as though + she were no longer. + + This is the tenth autumn I have seen dying upon this plain. It is + time that I also vanished away. Weep for me, muses of Mytilene, + weep upon my steps! + + + + +EPIGRAMS IN THE ISLAND OF CYPROS + + Αλλά με ναρκισσοις ἀναδήσατε, καὶ πλαγιαύλων γεύσατε + καὶ κροκίνοις χρίσατε γυἰα μύροις. + + Καὶ Μυτιληναίῳ τόν πνεύμονα τέγξατε βάκχῳ καὶ συζεύξατε + μοι φωλάδα παρθενικήν. + PHILODEMOS. + + “--Bind my head with narcissus and let me + taste the crooked flute. Anoint my limbs with + saffron ointment, wet my gullet with wine of + Mytilene and mate me with a virgin who will love + her nest.” + + (Anth. Pal. XI-34. Paton.) + + + + +XCII + +HYMN TO THE ASTARTE + + + Mother inexhaustible, incorruptible, creatrix, first-born, + self-engendered, self-created, issue of thyself alone and delight + of thyself, Astarte! + + O perpetually fecund, O virgin and nurse of all, chaste and + lascivious, pure and fruitive, ineffable, nocturnal, soft, breather + of fire, foam of the sea! + + Thou who accordest favors in secret, thou who unitest, thou who + lovest, thou who graspest the multiple races of savage beasts in + furious desire and joinest the sexes in the forests! + + O Astarte, irresistible, hear me, take me, possess me, O moon, and, + thirteen times each year, draw from my entrails the libation of my + blood! + + + + +XCIII. + +HYMN TO THE NIGHT + + + The black masses of the trees are immovable as the mountains. The + stars fill the immense sky. A warm breeze like a human breath + caresses my eyes and my cheeks. + + O Night, who givest birth to the Gods! how sweet thou art upon my + lips! how warm thou art in my hair! how thou enterest into me now, + and how I feel myself pregnant with all thy springtime! + + The flowers that shall blossom shall all be born of me. The wind + that respires is my breath. The perfume that passes is my desire. + All the stars are in my eyes. + + Thy voice, is it the roar of the sea? Is it the silence of the + plain? Thy voice; I comprehend it not, but it bends my head to my + feet, and my tears lave my two hands. + + + + +XCIV + +THE MENADES + + + Through the forests that dominate the sea, the Menades are rushing. + Maskale, with hot breasts, shrieks, brandishing the phallos of + sycamore smeared with vermilion. + + All, under their bassaris skins and their crowns of vine branches, + run and cry and leap, the crotales clapping in their hands, and the + thyrses cracking the skins of the resounding drums. + + With wetted hair, agile legs, reddened and pushing breasts, + sweating cheeks, foaming lips, O Dionysos, they offer thee, in + return, the love thou hast cast within them. + + And the wind of the sea lifts toward the sky the ruddy hair of + Helikomis, twisting it like a furious flame upon a torch of white + wax. + + + + +XCV + +THE SEA OF CYPRIS + + + Upon the highest promontory, I stretched myself out. The sea was + black like a field of violets. The milky-way gushed out from the + great divine breast. + + A thousand Menades slept about me in the mangled flowers. The long + grasses mingled with their hair. And then, behold, the sun was born + from the waters of the east. + + They were the same waters and the same shores that, one day, saw + appear the white body of Aphrodite.... Suddenly, I hid my eyes in + my hands. + + For I saw, trembling upon the water, a thousand tiny lips of light: + the pure sex or the smile of Cypris Philommeïdes. + + + + +XCVI + +THE PRIESTESSES OF ASTARTE + + + The priestesses of Astarte make love at the rising of the moon; + then they arise and bathe in a vast basin with a marge of silver. + + With their curved fingers, they comb their hair, and their hands, + tinted with crimson, blended with their black curls, seem like + branches of coral in a sombre and wavering sea. + + They never depilate themselves, so that the triangle of die goddess + is marked on their belly as on a temple; but they paint themselves + with brushes and perfume themselves deeply. + + The priestesses of Astarte make love at the setting of the moon; + then, in a carpeted hall where burns a tall lamp of gold, they lie + down at random. + + + + +XCVII + +THE MYSTERIES + + + Within the enclosure thrice mysterious, where the men never enter, + we have made a festival for thee, Astarte of the Night, Mother of + the World, Fountain of the Life of the Gods! + + I will reveal something, but not more than is permitted. About a + phallos crowned, an hundred women rocked, shrieking. The initiates + wore the habits of men, the others the divided tunics. + + The smoke of perfumes, the fumes of torches, wavered between us + like clouds. I wept burning tears. All, at the feet of the Berbeia; + we cast ourselves upon our backs. + + At last when the religious Act was consummated, and when, in the + Unique Triangle, had been plunged the crimson phallos, the mystery + commenced; but I will tell no more. + + + + +XCVIII + +THE EGYPTIAN COURTESANS + + + I have been, with Plango, among the Egyptian courtesans, at the + highest part of the old city. They have amphoras of earth, plates + of copper and yellow matting where they squat without strain. + + Their chambers are silent, without angles and without corners, so + much their successive couches of blue limestone have blunted the + pillars and rounded the base of the walls. + + They sit immobile, their hands resting upon their knees. When they + offer pudding they murmur: “Happiness.” And when one thanks them, + they say: “Grace to thee.” + + They understand Hellene and feign to speak it badly so as to laugh + at us in their own tongue; but we, a tooth for a tooth, we speak + Lydian and they are suddenly uneasy. + + + + +XCIX + +I SING OF MY FLESH AND MY LIFE + + + Surely I will not sing of celebrated past lovers. If they are no + more, why speak of them? Am I not like them? Have I not enough to + think of in myself? + + I will forget thee, Pasiphae, although thy passion was extreme. I + will not praise thee, Syrinx, nor thee, Byblis, nor thee, by the + goddess chosen before all, Helene of the white arms! + + If someone has suffered, I feel not the pain. If someone has loved, + I have loved more. I sing of my flesh and my life, and not of the + sterile shadow of buried loves. + + Rest upon the bed, O my body, according to thy voluptuous mission! + Taste thy daily enjoyments and the passions without a tomorrow. + Leave not a joy unknown to be regretted upon the day of thy death. + + + + +C + +THE PERFUMES + + + I will perfume all my skin in order to attract lovers. Upon my fair + legs, in a basin of silver, I will pour the spikenard of Tarsos and + the metopion of Egypt. + + Upon my arms, crushed mint; upon my lashes and upon my eyes + sweet-marjoram of Kôs. Slave, loosen my hair and fill it with the + smoke of incense. + + Here is oinanthe from the mountains of Cypros; I will let it slip + between my breasts; the liquor of roses which comes from Phaselis + shall perfume my neck and my cheeks. + + And now, pour upon my loins the irresistible bakkaris. It is + better, for a courtesan, to know the perfumes of Lydia than the + ways of the Peloponnesus. + + + + +CI + +CONVERSATION + + + “Good morning.--Good morning also.--Thou art in a great + hurry.--Perhaps less than thou thinkest.--Thou art a pretty + girl.--Perhaps more so than thou believest. + + “What is thy charming name?--I tell it not so quickly.--Thou hast + someone this evening?--Always there is my lover.--And how dost thou + love him?--As he wishes. + + “Let us sup together.--If thou desirest. But what givest + thou?--This.--Five drachmæ? It is for my slave. And for me?--Say it + thyself.--An hundred. + + “Where livest thou?--In this blue house.--At what hour may I send + to seek thee?--At once, if thou wishest.--At once.--Go before.” + + + + +CII + +THE TORN ROBE + + + “Holla! by the two goddesses, who is the insolent one who has put + his foot upon my robe?--It is a lover.--It is a blockhead.--I have + been awkward, pardon me. + + “Imbecile! my yellow robe is all torn in the back, and if I walk + thus in the street, they will take me for a poor girl who serves + Cypris inversely. + + “Wilt thou not stop?--I believe that he speaks to me again!--Why + dost thou leave me, thus angered?... Thou respondest not? Alas! I + dare speak no more. + + “I certainly must return to my house to change my robe.--And may I + not follow thee? Who is thy father?--He is the rich captain + Nikias.--Thou hast fair eyes, I pardon thee.” + + + + +CIII + +THE JEWELS + + + A diadem of fretted gold crowns my straight, white forehead. Five + chains of gold that follow the curve of my cheeks and chin, are + suspended from my hair by two large clasps. + + Upon my arms, which Iris would envy, thirteen silver bracelets + twine. How heavy they are! But they are weapons; and I know one + enemy who has suffered from them. + + I am truly all covered with gold. My breasts are cuirassed with two + pectorals of gold. The images of the gods have not more riches than + I have. + + And I wear upon my heavy robe, a girdle of silver plates. There + thou canst read this verse: “Love me eternally; but be not + afflicted if I deceive thee three times each day.” + + + + +CIV + +THE INDIFFERENT ONE + + + Since he has entered my chamber, whoever he may be (that is his + concern): “See,” I say to my slave, “what a handsome man! and + should not a courtesan be happy?” + + I declare he is Adonis, Ares or Herakles, according to his + countenance, or the Old Man of the Sea if his hair is pale silver. + And then, what disdain for trifling youth! + + “Ah!” I say, “if I had not to pay my florist and my goldsmith + tomorrow, how I would love to say to thee: I do not wish thy gold! + I am thy passionate servant!” + + Then, when he has closed his arms under my shoulders, I see a + boatman of the port pass like a divine image over the starry sky of + my transparent lids. + + + + +CV + +PURE WATER OF THE BASIN + + + “Pure water of the basin, immobile mirror, tell me of my + beauty.--Bilitis, or whoever thou art, Tethys perhaps, or + Amphitrite, thou art beautiful, thou knowest. + + “Thy face inclines beneath thy thick hair, which is heavy with + flowers and perfumes. Thy soft eyelids scarcely open, and thy + flanks are weary from the movements of love. + + “Thy body, fatigued with the weight of thy breasts, carries the + fine marks of nails and the blue stains of the kiss. Thine arms are + reddened by the embrace. Each line of thy skin was loved.” + + “Clear water of the basin, thy freshness brings repose. Receive me, + who am truly wearied. Take away the fard of my cheeks and the sweat + of my body and the remembrance of the night.” + + + + +CVI + +VOLUPTUOUSNESS + + + Upon a white terrace, in the night, they abandoned us, swooning + among the roses. The warm perspiration slipped away like tears from + our armpits over our breasts. Overwhelming voluptuousness purpled + our thrownback heads. + + Four captive doves, bathed in four perfumes, fluttered above us in + the silence. From their wings, drops of perfume fell upon the naked + women. I was covered with the essence of iris. + + O lassitude! I rested my cheek upon the belly of a young girl who + enveloped herself in the cool of my moist hair. The perfume of her + saffroned skin intoxicated my opened mouth. She closed her thighs + about my neck. + + I slept, but an exhausting dream awakened me: the inyx, bird of + nocturnal desires, sang distractedly from afar. I coughed with a + shiver. Little by little, a languishing arm like a flower raised + itself in the air toward the moon. + + + + +CVII + +THE INN + + + Innkeeper, we are four. Give us a chamber and two beds. It is now + too late to return to the city and the rain has broken the road. + + Bring a basket of figs, some cheese, and dark wine; but first + remove my sandals and lave my feet, for the mud tickles me. + + Have brought into the chamber, two basins with water, a full lamp, + a crater and kylix. Shake thou the covers and beat the cushions. + + But let the beds be of good maple, and the planks noiseless! + Tomorrow thou needst not awaken us. + + + + +CVIII + +THE SERVANTS + + + Four slaves guard my house: two robust Thracians at my door, a + Sicilian in my kitchen and a docile and silent Phrygian woman for + the service of my bed. + + The two Thracians are handsome men. Each has a staff in his hand to + chase away poor lovers and a hammer to nail upon the wall the + wreaths which are sent me. + + The Sicilian is a rare cook; I paid twelve minæ for her. No other + knows as she does how to prepare fried croquettes and cakes of + poppy. + + The Phrygian bathes me, dresses my hair and depilates me. She + sleeps in the morning in my chamber, and three nights each month, + she takes my place with my lovers. + + + + +CIX + +THE BATH + + + Child, guard well the door, and let no passer-by enter, for I and + six girls with beautiful arms would bathe ourselves in secret in + the warm water of the basin. + + We would only laugh and swim. Let the lovers stay in the street. We + will dip our legs in the water and, seated on the marble brink, we + will play with dice. + + We will play also with the ball. Let no lovers enter; our hair is + too wet; our throats are all goose-flesh and the ends of our + fingers are wrinkled. + + Moreover, he would repent it, who surprised us naked! Bilitis is + not Athena, but she shows herself only at her hours and chastises + too ardent eyes. + + + + +CX + +TO HER BREASTS + + + Flowers of flesh, O my breasts! how rich in voluptuousness you are! + My breasts in my hands, how soft you are, how gently warm, how + youthfully perfumed! + + Formerly, you were frozen like the breast of a statue and hard as + the insensible marble. Since you have softened, I cherish you more, + you who have been so loved. + + Your sleek, rounded forms are the honor of my brown torso. When I + imprison you in bands of gold or when I deliver you all naked, you + precede me with your splendor. + + Therefore be happy, this night. If my fingers give forth caresses, + you alone will know them until tomorrow morning; for, this night, + Bilitis has paid Bilitis. + + + + +CXI + +MYDZOURIS + + + Mydzouris, little filth, weep not. Thou art my friend. If the women + insult thee again, it is I who will answer them. Come into my arms + and dry thine eyes. + + Yes, I know thou art a horrible child and that thy mother taught + thee early to prove thy courage in all things. But thou art young + and therefore thou canst do nothing that is not charming. + + The mouth of a girl of fifteen remains pure in spite of all. The + lips of a gray-headed woman, although virgin, are degraded; for the + only disgrace is to grow old and we are blemished only when we + become wrinkled. + + Mydzouris, I admire thy frank eyes, thine impudent and bold name, + thy laughing voice and thy light body. Come to my house, thou shalt + be my aid, and when we go out together, the women shall say to + thee: Greeting. + + + + +CXII + +THE TRIUMPH OF BILITIS + + + In the procession they have carried me in triumph, me, Bilitis, all + naked upon a shell-like car upon which slaves, during the night, + had placed ten thousand roses. + + I reclined, my hands under my neck, my feet alone clad in gold, and + my body outstretched softly upon the bed of my warm hair mingled + with the cool petals. + + Twelve children, with wingèd shoulders, served me as a goddess; one + of them held a shade, the others showered me with perfume or burned + incense in the prow. + + And about me I heard rustling the ardent murmur of the multitude, + whilst the breath of desire floated about my nudity, in the blue + mist of the aromatics. + + + + +CXIII + +TO THE GOD OF THE WOODS + + + O venerable Priapos, god of the woods, whom I have fastened in the + marble border of my bath, it is not without reason, guardian of the + orchards, that thou shouldst watch here over the courtesans. + + God, we have not bought thee to sacrifice our virginities to thee. + No one can give that which is no more, and the zealots of Pallas + run not the streets of Amathus. + + No. Formerly thou didst watch over the leafy hair of the trees, + over the wet flowers, over the heavy and savory fruits. It is for + that we have chosen thee. + + Guard thou today our blond heads, the opened poppies of our lips + and the violets of our eyes. Guard the firm fruit of our breasts + and give us lovers who resemble thee. + + + + +CXIV + +THE DANCING-GIRL WITH CROTALES + + + Thou attachest to thy light hands the resounding crotales, + Myrrhinidion my dear, and, almost naked from thy robe, thou + extendest thy nervous limbs. How pretty thou art, thine arms in the + air, thy loins arched and thy breasts reddened! + + Thou commencest: thy feet, one before the other, pose, hesitate, + and glide softly. Thy body bends like a scarf, thou caressest thy + shivering skin, and voluptuousness inundates thy long, swooning + eyes. + + Suddenly thou strikest the crotales! Arch thyself, erect upon thy + feet, shake thy loins, advance thy legs and let thy hands, filled + with noise, call all the desires in a band about thy turning body. + + We, we applaud with great cries, whether, smiling over thy + shoulder, thou agitatest with a shiver thy convulsed muscular + croup, or whether thou undulatest, almost extended, to the rhythm + of thy memories. + + + + +CXV + +THE FLUTE-PLAYER + + + Melixo, thy legs joined, thy body inclined, thine arms forward, + thou slippest thy light double-flute between thy lips moist with + wine, and thou playest about the couch where Teleas still embraces + me. + + Am I not most imprudent, I who hire so young a girl to distract my + hours of labor? I who show her thus naked to the curious looks of + my lovers, am I not careless? + + No, Melixo, little musician, thou art an honest friend. Yesterday + thou didst not refuse to change thy flute for another when I + despaired of accomplishing a love full of difficulties. But thou + art safe. + + For I know well of what thou thinkest. Thou awaitest the end of + this night of excesses which animates thee cruelly and in vain, + and, at the first dawn, thou wilt run in the street, with thine + only friend Psyllos, to thy little broken mattress. + + + + +CXVI + +THE WARM GIRDLE + + + “Thou thinkest thou lovest me no longer, Teleas, and since a month + thou hast passed thy nights at the table, as though the fruits, the + wines, the honey, could make thee forget my lips. Thou thinkest + that thou lovest me no longer, poor fool!” + + Saying that, I loosened my moist girdle and I rolled it about his + head. It was still quite warm with the heat of my body; the perfume + of my skin issued from its fine meshes. + + He breathed it deeply, his eyes closed, then I felt that he + returned to me and I even saw very clearly his reawakening desires + that he hid not from me, but, as a ruse, I resisted him. + + “No, my friend. This evening, Lysippos possesses me. Farewell!” And + I added, as I fled: “O gormand of fruits and greens! the little + garden of Bilitis has only one fig, but it is good.” + + + + +CXVII + +TO A HAPPY HUSBAND + + + I envy thee, Agorakrites, for having a wife so zealous. It is she + herself who attends to the stable, and in the morning, in place of + making love, she gives drink to the cattle. + + Thou shouldst rejoice in her. How many others, wouldst thou say, + dream of base pleasures, waking the night, sleeping the day, and + yet demanding from adultery a criminal satiety? + + Yes; thy wife labors in the stable. They say even that she has a + thousand tendernesses for the youngest of thine asses. Ah! Ha! + there is a good animal. He has a black spot over his eyes. + + They say that she plays between his hoofs, under his soft gray + belly.... But those who say that are slanderers. If thine ass + pleases her, Agorakrites, it is without doubt that she recalls thy + look in his. + + + + +CXVIII + +TO A WANDERER + + + The love of women is the most beautiful of all that mortals + experience, and thou wouldst think so, Kleo, if thou hadst a truly + voluptuous soul; but thou dreamest only vanities. + + Thou losest thy nights in cherishing youths who are ungrateful to + us. Therefore regard them! How ugly they are! Compare to their + round heads, our thick hair; seek our white breasts upon their + chests. + + Beside their narrow flanks, consider our luxuriant hips, broad, + hollowed couches for lovers. Say, above all, what human lips, + except hers who wishes it, can elaborate the pleasures? + + Thou art sick, O Kleo, but a woman can cure thee. Go to young + Satyra, the daughter of my neighbor Gorgo. Her croup is a rose of + the sun, and she will not refuse thee the pleasure she herself + prefers. + + + + +CXIX + +INTIMACIES + + + Why I have become Lesbian, O Bilitis, thou askest? But what player + of the flute is not, a little? I am poor; I have no bed; I lie with + her who wishes me and I thank her with what I have. + + While yet small, we dance naked; those dances, thou knowest them, + my dear: the twelve desires of Aphrodite. We regard each other, we + compare our nudities and we find them so pretty. + + During the long night, we inflame ourselves for the pleasure of the + spectators; but our ardor is not feigned and we feel it so much + that sometimes, behind the doors one of us may animate her + companion who consents. + + How then can we love a man who is rough with us? He seizes us as + girls and leaves us before the delight. Thou, thou art a woman, + thou knowest what I mean. Thou canst take it as for thyself. + + + + +CXX + +THE COMMAND + + + “Old woman, hear me. I give a festival in three days. It is to + divert me. Thou wilt lend me all thy girls. How many hast thou, and + what can they do?” + + “I have seven. Three dance the Kordax with the scarf and the + phallos. Nephele of the sleek armpits will mimic the love of doves + between her rosy breasts. + + “One singer in a broidered peplos will chant the songs of Rhodes, + accompanied by two auletrides who will have garlands of myrtle + rolled about their brown legs.” + + “It is well. See that they be freshly depilated, laved and perfumed + from head to foot, ready for other games if they are demanded. Go + give the orders. Farewell.” + + + + +CXXI + +THE FIGURE OF PASIPHAE + + + In a debauch that two young men and some courtesans made at my + house, where love gushed out like wine, Damalis, in honor of her + name, danced the Figure of Pasiphae. + + She had caused to be made at Kition two masks of a cow and of a + bull, for herself and for Karmantidea. She wore terrible horns, and + a hairy tail upon her croup. + + The other women, led by me, held the flowers and the torches, and + we turned about ourselves with cries and we caressed Damalis with + the tips of our pendent tresses. + + Their lowings and our songs and the dancing of our loins lasted + longer than the night. The empty chamber is still warm. I regard my + reddened knees and the canthares of Kôs where the roses float. + + + + +CXXII + +THE JUGGLER + + + When the first dawn blended with the feeble glimmer of the torches, + I sent into the orgie a flute-player, vicious and agile, who + trembled a little, being cold. + + Praise the little girl of the blue lids, of the short hair, of the + sharp breasts, clad only in a girdle from which hung yellow ribbons + and the stems of black iris. + + Praise her! for she was adroit and performed difficult tricks. She + juggled with hoops, without breaking anything in the room, she + glided through them like a grasshopper. + + Sometimes she made a wheel, bending upon her hands and feet. Or, + with her two legs in the air and her knees apart, she curved + herself backward and touched the ground, laughing. + + + + +CXXIII + +THE DANCE OF THE FLOWERS + + + Anthis, dancing-girl of Lydia, has seven veils about her. She + unrolls the yellow veil, her black hair spreads out. The rosy veil + slips from her mouth. The white veil falls, revealing her naked + arms. + + She releases her little breasts from the red veil that unties + itself. She lets fall the green veil from her double, rounded + croup. She draws the blue veil from her shoulders, but she presses + upon her puberty the last transparent veil. + + The young men supplicate her; she tosses her head backward. Only at + the sound of the flutes, she tears it a little, then, suddenly, and + with the gestures of the dance, she culls the flowers of her body. + + Singing: “Where are my roses? where are my perfumed violets! Where + are my tufts of parsley!--Behold my roses, I give them to you. + Behold my violets, will you have them? Behold my fair curled + parsley.” + + + + +CXXIV + +VIOLENCE + + + No, thou shalt not take me by force, count not on that, Lamprias. + If thou hast heard it said that someone violated Parthenis, know + that she gave herself, for one plays not with us without being + invited. + + Oh! do thy best, make efforts. See: it is a failure. I scarcely + defend myself, yet. I will not call for help. And I do not even + struggle; but I stir. Poor friend, it is a failure again. + + Continue. This little game amuses me. The more as I am sure to + conquer. Again an unhappy essay, and perhaps thou wilt be less + disposed to show me thine extinguished desires. + + Butcher, what doest thou! Cur! thou wilt break my wrists! and this + knee, this knee which opens me! Ah! go, now, it is a fine victory, + that of ravishing a young girl, in tears, upon the ground. + + + + +CXXV + +SONG + + + The first gave me a collar, a collar of pearls, worth a city with + its palaces and its temples, and its treasures and its slaves. + + The second made verses for me. He said that my tresses were black + as those of the night and my eyes blue as those of the morning. + + The third was so beautiful that his mother could not embrace him + without reddening. He put his hands upon my knees and his lips upon + my naked foot. + + Thou, thou hast told me nothing, thou hast given me nothing, for + thou art poor. And thou art not beautiful, but it is thee I love. + + + + +CXXVI + +ADVICE TO A LOVER + + + If thou wouldst be loved by a woman, O young friend, whoever she + may be, tell her not that thou wishest her, but have her see thee + every day; then disappear, to return. + + If she address her speech to thee, be amorous without eagerness. + She, of herself, will come to thee. But thou must take her by + force, the day when she intends to give herself. + + When thou receivest her in thy bed neglect thine own pleasure. The + hands of an amorous woman are trembling and without caresses. + Excuse them from being zealous. + + But thou, take no repose. Prolong thy kisses to breathlessness. + Allow her no sleep, even though she beg it of thee. Kiss always the + part of her body toward which she turns her eyes. + + + + +CXXVII + +FRIENDS AT DINNER + + + Myromeris and Maskale, my friends, come with me, for I have no + lover this evening and, lying upon beds of byssus, we will converse + over our dinner. + + A night of repose will do you good; you shall sleep in my bed, even + without fards and with unkempt hair. Wear a simple tunic of wool + and leave your jewels in their box. + + No one shall make you dance to admire your legs and the heavy + movements of your loins. No one shall demand the Sacred Figures to + judge whether you are amorous. + + And I have not commanded for us two flute-players with fair mouths, + but two pans of browned peas, cakes of honey, fried croquettes, and + my last leathern bottle of Kôs. + + + + +CXXVIII + +THE TOMB OF A YOUNG COURTESAN + + + Here lies the delicate body of Lydé, little dove, the most joyous + of all the courtesans, who more than all others loved orgies and + floating hair, soft dances and tunics of hyacinth. + + More than all others she loved the savory glottisms, the caresses + upon her cheek, games that only the lamp saw, and love which + bruised the limbs. And now she is a little shadow. + + But before putting her in the tomb, they have arranged her hair + marvelously and laid her in roses; even the stone which covers her + is all impregnated with essences and perfumes. + + Sacred earth, nurse of all, receive gently the poor dead, let her + sleep in thine arms, O Mother! and make to grow about the stèle, + not nettles and briers, but tender white violets. + + + + +CXXIX + +THE LITTLE ROSE MERCHANT + + + Yesterday, Nais said to me, I was in the market when a little girl + in red tatters passed, carrying roses, before a group of young men. + And this is what I heard: + + “Buy something from me.--Explain thyself, little one, for we know + not what thou sellest; thyself? thy roses or all at once?--If you + will buy from me all these flowers, you may have mine for nothing. + + “And how much wishest thou for thy roses?--I must have six oboli + for my mother, else I shall be beaten like a bitch.--Follow us. + Thou shalt have a drachma.--Then, shall I seek my little sister?” + + And both followed those men. They had no breasts, Bilitis. They + knew not even how to smile. They trotted along like two kids which + one leads to the butcher. + + + + +CXXX + +THE DISPUTE + + + Ah! by Aphrodite, behold thee! bloody head! rottenness! infection! + sterile one! carcanet! clumsy one! good for nothing! evil sow! Do + not try to escape me; come yet nearer. + + Behold this woman of the sailors, who knows not even how to fold + her garment upon the shoulder and who puts on the fard so badly + that the black of her brows runs over her cheek in floods of ink. + + Thou art Phœnician: lie with those of thy race. As for me, my + father was Hellene: I have right over all those who wear the + petasus. And even over the others if it pleases me so. + + Stop not in my street or I will send thee to Hades to make love + with Karon and I will say very justly: “Let the earth cover thee + lightly,” so that the dogs may dig thee out. + + + + +CXXXI + +MELANCHOLY + + + I shiver; the night is cool, and the forest all wet. Why hast thou + led me here? is my great bed not softer than this moss strewn with + stones? + + My flowery robe will be spotted with verdure; my hair will be + tangled with twigs; my neck; look at my neck, already soiled with + the damp earth. + + Formerly, I followed into the woods he who.... Ah! leave me for a + time. I am sad, this evening. Leave me, without speaking, my hand + over my eyes. + + In truth, canst thou not wait! are we beasts to take each other so! + Leave me. Thou shalt not open my knees nor my lips. Even my eyes + shall stay closed, lest they weep. + + + + +CXXXII + +THE LITTLE PHANION + + + Stranger, pause; see who is signing to thee: it is little Phanion + of Kôs, she merits that thou shouldst choose her. + + See, her hair is curled like parsley, her skin is smooth as the + down of a bird. She is small and brown. She speaks nicely. + + If thou wouldst follow her, she would not demand of thee all the + money from thy voyage: no, only a drachma or a pair of slippers. + + Thou wilt find that she has a good bed, fresh figs, milk, wine, + and, if it be cold, there will be a fire. + + + + +CXXXIII + +INDICATIONS + + + Passer-by who pauses, if thou wishest slender thighs and nervous + loins, a firm throat, knees that clasp, go to Plango; she is my + friend. + + If thou seekest a laughing girl, with exuberant breasts, delicately + shaped, the croup plump and the loins hollowed, go to the corner of + this street, where Spidhorodellis dwells. + + But if long tranquil hours in the arms of a courtesan, soft skin, + the warmth of the body and the fragrance of the hair please thee, + seek Milto; and thou wilt be content. + + Expect not too much from love; but profit from its experience. One + may demand all from a woman when she is naked, when it is night, + and when the hundred drachmæ are upon the hearth. + + + + +CXXXIV + +THE MERCHANT OF WOMEN + + + “Who is there?--I am the merchant of women. Open the door, + Sostrata, I offer thee two opportunities. This is the first. + Approach, Anasyrtolis, and strip thyself.--She is a trifle large.-- + + “She is a beauty. Besides, she dances the Kordax and she knows + eighty songs.--Turn thyself. Raise the arms. Lift the hair. Give me + thy foot. Smile. It is good.-- + + “Now this one.--She is too young!--Not at all, she was twelve years + old the day before yesterday and thou wilt teach her + nothing.--Remove thy tunic. Let me see? No, she is thin.-- + + “I demand but one mina.--And the first?--Two minæ, thirty.--Three + minæ for the two?--It is said.--Enter here and bathe yourselves. + And thou, farewell.” + + + + +CXXXV + +THE STRANGER + + + Stranger, go not farther into the city. Thou wilt not find + elsewhere than with me girls younger or more expert. I am Sostrata, + celebrated even beyond the sea. + + See this one whose eyes are green as water in the grass. Thou + wouldst not have her? Here are other eyes which are black as + violets, and hair three cubits long. + + I have better still. Xantho, open thy cyclas. Stranger, these + breasts are hard as quinces; touch them. And her fair belly, thou + seest, carries the three folds of Cypris. + + I bought her with her sister who is not yet of the age for love, + but who will second her usefully. By the two goddesses! thou art of + a noble race. Phyllis and Xantho, follow the illustrious one! + + + + +CXXXVI + +THE REMEMBRANCE OF MNASIDIKA + + + They danced, one before the other, with rapid, flying movements; + they seemed always wishing to entangle, and yet touched not at all, + unless with the tips of their lips. + + When they turned their backs in dancing, they looked at each other, + the head upon the shoulder, the perspiration gleaming upon their + lifted arms, and their fine hair passing over their breasts. + + The languor of their eyes, the fire of their cheeks, the gravity of + their faces, were three ardent songs. They grazed each other + furtively, they bent their bodies upon their hips. + + And suddenly they fell, to finish the soft dance upon the earth.... + Remembrance of Mnasidika, it was then thou camest to me, and all, + except thy dear image, troubled me. + + + + +CXXXVII + +THE YOUNG MOTHER + + + Believe not, Myromeris, that, in becoming a mother, thou hast + lessened thy beauty. See how thy body, beneath thy robe, has + drowned its slim form in a voluptuous softness. + + Thy breasts are two vast flowers, reversed upon thy chest, whose + cut stems give out a milky sap. Thy softened belly swoons beneath + the hand. + + And now consider the tiny babe born of a quiver which thou didst + feel, one evening, in the arms of a passer-by whose name thou dost + not even know. Dream of her distant destiny. + + Her eyes which now scarcely open will one day be elongated by a + line of black fard, and they will sow among men sorrow or joy by + one movement of their lashes. + + + + +CXXXVIII + +THE UNKNOWN + + + He sleeps. I know him not. He horrifies me. Nevertheless, his purse + is filled with gold and he gave four drachmæ to the slave on + entering. I expect a mina for myself. + + But I told the Phrygian to enter the bed in my place. He was drunk + and took her for me. I would rather die in torment than stretch + myself out near this man. + + Alas! I dream of the meadows of Tauros.... I was a little + virgin.... Then I had a light heart, and I was so mad with amorous + envy that I hated my married sisters. + + What would I not have done to obtain that which I have refused this + night! Today, my breasts are pliant and in my worn heart, Eros + slumbers from lassitude. + + + + +CXXXIX + +THE CHEAT + + + I awaken.... Is he then gone! He has left something! No: two empty + amphoras and some soiled flowers. All the rug is red with wine. + + I have slept, but I am still drunk.... With whom, then, did I + return?... At least, we lay down together. The bed is still steeped + with sweat. + + Perhaps there were several; the bed is so disordered. I know no + more.... But someone saw them! There is my Phrygian. She still + sleeps across the door. + + I give her a kick in the breast and I cry: “Bitch, thou couldst + not....” I am so hoarse that I can say no more. + + + + +CXL + +THE LAST LOVER + + + Child, do not pass without loving me, I am still beautiful in the + night; thou shalt see how much warmer my autumn is than the + springtime of another. + + Seek not for love from virgins. Love is a difficult art in which + young girls are little versed. I have prepared it all my life to + give it to my last lover. + + My last lover shall be thou; I know it. Behold my mouth, for which + a nation has paled with desire. Behold my hair, the same hair that + Psappha the Great has sung. + + I will gather for thee all that remains of my lost youth. I will + burn even the memories. I will give thee the flute of Lykas, the + girdle of Mnasidika. + + + + +CXLI + +THE DOVE + + + For a long time I have been beautiful; the day comes when I shall + no longer be a woman. And then I will know heart-rendering + memories, burning solitary envy and tears in my hands. + + If life is a long dream, of what good to resist? Now, four and five + times a night, I demand amorous enjoyment, and when my loins are + exhausted, I sink asleep wherever my body falls. + + In the morning, I open my eyelids and I shiver in my hair. A dove + is upon my window; I ask of her, in what month we are. She says to + me: “It is the month when women are in love.” + + Ah! whatever be the month, the dove speaks truly, Cypris. And I + throw my two arms about my lover, and with great tremblings, I + stretch my still benumbed legs to the foot of the bed. + + + + +CXLII + +THE RAIN OF THE MORNING + + + The night has worn away. The stars are far away. See, the last + courtesans have returned with their lovers. And I, in the rain of + morning, I write this verse upon the sand. + + The leaves are laden with brilliant water. The rivulets across the + paths drag along the earth and the dead leaves. The rain, drop by + drop, makes holes in my song. + + Oh! how sad and alone I am here! The young regard me not; the old + have forgotten me. It is well. They will learn my verses, and the + children of their children. + + That is what neither Myrtale nor Thais nor Glykera may say, the day + when their fair cheeks deepen with wrinkles. Those who shall love + after me, will sing my strophes together. + + + + +CXLIII + +THE TRUE DEATH + + + Aphrodite; merciless goddess, thou hast willed that, for me also, + the happy youth of beautiful hair shall disappear in a few days. + Why am I not dead now! + + I have regarded myself in my mirror: I have no longer smiles or + tears. O sweet face that loved Mnasidika, I cannot believe that + thou wast mine. + + Can it be that all is ended! I have not yet lived five times eight + years; it seems to me that I was born only yesterday, and now, + behold, I must say: No one will love me more. + + All my cut hair, I have twisted into a girdle, and I offer it to + thee, Cypris eternal! I will never cease to adore thee. This is the + last verse of the pious Bilitis. + + + + +THE TOMB OF BILITIS + + + + +FIRST EPITAPH + + + In the country where the springs rise from the sea, and where the + bed of flowers is made of leaves of rock, I, Bilitis, was born. + + My mother was Phœnician; my father, Damophylos, Hellene. My mother + taught me the songs of Byblos, sad as the first dawn. + + I have adored Astarte at Cypros. I have known Psappha at Lesbos. I + have sung as I have loved. If I have loved well, Passer-by, tell it + to thy daughter. + + And sacrifice not for me a black goat; but in soft libation, press + her teats above my tomb. + + + + +SECOND EPITAPH + + + Upon the sombre banks of Melos, at Tamassos of Pamphylia, I, + daughter of Damophylos, Bilitis, was born. I repose far from my + native land, thou seest. + + Even as a child, I learned the loves of Adonis and of Astarte, the + mysteries of the holy Serfs, and the death and return to + Her-of-the-rounded-eyes. + + If I have been a courtesan, what is the harm? Was it not my duty as + a woman? Stranger, the Mother-of-all-things guides us. To forget + her is not prudent. + + In gratitude to thee who hast paused, I wish thee this destiny: + Mayest thou be loved, but never love. Farewell; remember thou, in + thine old age, that thou hast seen my tomb. + + + + +LAST EPITAPH + + + Under the black leaves of the laurels, under the amorous blooms of + the roses, it is here that I lie, I who have known how to braid + line with line, and exalt the kiss. + + I grew in the land of the nymphs; I lived in the isle of lovers; I + died in the isle of Cypros. It is for this that my name is + illustrious and my stèle cleaned with oil. + + Weep not for me, thou who pausest; they made me fair funeral rites; + the weepers bruised their cheeks; they have laid in my tomb my + mirrors and my necklaces. + + And now, over the pale meadows of asphodel, I walk, an impalpable + shadow, and the remembrance of my earthly life is the joy of my + life in the underworld. + + + + +BIBLIOGRAPHY + + +I. Bilitis’ saemmtliche Lieder zum ersten Male herausgegeben und mit +einem Woerterbuche versehen, von G. Heim.--Leipzig. 1894. + +II. Les Chansons de Bilitis, traduites du Grec pour la première fois par +P. L. Paris. 1895. + +III. Six Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en vers par Mme. Jean +Bertheroy.--Revue pour les jeunes filles. Paris. Armand Colin. 1896. + +IV. Vingt-six Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en allemand par Richard +Dehmel.--Die Gesellschaft. Zeitung. 1896. + +V. Vingt Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en allemand par le Dr. Paul +Goldmann. Frankfurter Zeitung. 1896. + +VI. Les Chansons de Bilitis, par le Pr. von +Willamovitz-Moellendorf.--Goettingsche Gelehrte--Goettingen. 1896. + +VII. Huit Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en tcheque par Alexandre +Backovsky.--Prague. 1897. + +VIII. Quatre Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en suédois par Gustav +Uddgren.--Nordisk Revy.--Stockholm. 1897. + +IX. Trois Chansons de Bilitis, mises en musique par Claude +Debussy.--Paris. Fromont. 1898. + + + + +NOTES AND COMMENT + + +“Translated from the Greek.” + +The antique sketches here rendered in English, some of which possess +great beauty, appeared first, in French, in 1894, bearing the legend +“Translated from the Greek.” This feeling of translation the Author +attempted to strengthen by recording, in his Index, certain “songs” +marked “not translated” which, as a matter of fact, never existed. It is +extremely doubtful, however, whether anyone really acquainted with the +Greek Poets was misled, even for a moment. Internal evidence often +points to modern thought and ideas; and a number of the pieces, if not +exactly “translated” are at least adapted from epigrams by various +writers of established place in the Greek Anthology. These would at once +indicate “Bilitis” as an imaginary personage. + +In the following notes, some of the more important of the direct +translations and paraphrases from antique writers have been indicated, +with an occasional comment, for the convenience and interest of the +reader. + +The English translation itself is complete and has been kept in close +parallel with the French text, except for a few changes in tense which +seemed advisable. + +M. S. B. + + +LIFE OF BILITIS + +“Psappha.” + +No authority is evident for the statement that Sappho was known at +Lesbos under the name of “Psappha.” + +It seems likely, from Pierre Louÿs’ general attitude toward the +“Poetess” and his description of her in XLVI, that at the time he wrote +the Songs of Bilitis he was either indifferently acquainted with the +known facts of Sappho’s life or deliberately chose, with some other +modern writers, to disregard or misunderstand them. Dr. Horace +Manchester Brown, in the Preface to his translation of the present work +(Aldus Society. 1904) remarks that “the translator has felt that such a +protest (in defense of Sappho by a professor of Göttingen) and such a +defense were unnecessary and has believed that the beauty of the +pictures presented by many of the songs is sufficient excuse for their +existence....” A few words on the subject of Sappho seem desirable, +however, since it cannot be assumed that all the readers of this volume +are familiar with the facts of Sappho’s life. + +On the testimony of many writers of antiquity--who, at least, had more +on which to base an opinion than we have--the description in XLVI of “ +... her hair cut like that of an athlete ... virile breast ... narrow +hips,” and, as assumed, ready to prey lasciviously upon any passer-by, +becomes ridiculous and defamatory. Sappho’s brother, Larichus, was +public cup-bearer at Mytilene, an office held only by young men of noble +birth. She herself, “violet-weaving, pure, soft-smiling” as Alcæus says, +although “small and dark” according to Maximus Tyrius, was, according to +her own words, “of a quiet temper” and in all probability was married +and mother of a daughter named Cleis whom she mentions in an extant +fragment (72), which, considering the personal tone of so many of her +poems, may be taken as something more than a poetic fancy; “I have a +fair daughter with a form like a golden flower, Cleis the beloved, above +whom I prize nor all Lydia nor lovely Lesbos.” (Wharton.) Philoxemus +describes her as “sweet-voiced.” Damocharis, in the Anthology (Plan. +App. XVI-310) describes her picture in glowing terms: “Her eyes overflow +with brilliance, showing a fancy rich in happy images. Her skin, smooth +and not too reddened, shows simplicity; and the blended gaiety and +gravity of her features proclaims the union, in her, of the Muse and +Cypris.” + +That she gathered about her a society of maidens to whom she taught the +art of poetry, is well known; the names of many of her pupils and +friends have been preserved in fragments of her verse. How much farther +her friendships were carried, as indicated in the poems, will always be +a matter for speculation; but that she was a charming, lovely woman, +sufficiently reserved, of perfect maturity and free from petty or +promiscuous vice seems undeniable. Otherwise, we may be sure the writers +of antiquity would have treated her with far less veneration and +respect. + + * * * * * + +“A verse of Sappho.” + +This is the verse placed by Pierre Louÿs at the beginning of “Elegiacs +in Mytilene.” + + * * * * * + +“Phryne.” + +The crime of which Phryne was accused, and for which she was tried +before the Areopagos at Athens, was of profaning the Eleusinian +Mysteries--a crime even more serious than Pierre Louÿs’ “murder.” + + * * * * * + +“Apelles revealed his Anadyomene.” + +Pierre Louÿs writes “entrevit la forme.” Apelles was a painter. + + +BUCOLICS IN PAMPHYLIA + +XIV “Melissa.” + +That is: “bee.” Marcus Argentarius has an epigram in the Anthology using +the word (Anth. Pal. V-32): “Melissa is thy name and truly so, as my +heart bears witness. Thy soft lips sweeten thy kisses with honey, but +thou also piercest with a cruel sting.” + + * * * * * + +XVI “Like a cup with two handles.” + +The “amphora kiss,” as though one drank the kiss from a beaker. + + * * * * * + +XXXVI “My father.” + +An oversight, as Pierre Louÿs says in the “Life of Bilitis,” she seems +never to have known her father for he is not mentioned ...” See also the +First and Second Epitaphs. + + * * * * * + +XLII “First dawn.” + +Execrations of the morning light were popular among the Greek amatory +poets. See Meleager (Anth. Pal. V-172): “Star of Morning, enemy of +lovers, why shinest thou so quickly upon the couch where, a moment +since, I lay warm with Demo?...” + + * * * * * + +XLIII “The trunks of the pines.” + +The same thought in the “Song of Songs” (Song of Solomon) I-17: “The +beams of our house are of cedar and our rafters of fir.” + + +ELEGIACS AT MYTILENE + +John Addington Symonds in his “Problem in Greek Ethics” (London. 1901. +pp 71-72) remarks: “Lesbian passion, as the Greeks called it, never +obtained the same social sanction as boy-love. It is significant that +Greek Mythology offers no legends of the goddesses parallel to those +which consecrated paederastia among the male deities. Again, we have no +recorded example, so far as I can remember, of noble friendships between +women rising into political and historical prominence.... The Greeks, +while tolerating, regarded it rather as an eccentricity of nature, or a +vice, than as an honourable and socially useful emotion.... There is an +important passage in the ‘Amores’ of Lucian which proves that the Greeks +felt an abhorrence of sexual inversion among women similar to that which +moderns feel for its manifestation among men.... And ... while the love +of males for males in Greece obtained moralisation, and reached the high +position of a recognized social function, the love of female for female +remained undeveloped and unhonoured, on the same level as both forms of +homosexual passion in the modern European world are.” + +The exposition, perhaps beyond decorum, of Lesbian love in this section +of the Songs of Bilitis has no parallel in all Greek literature where +references to the subject are very few. + + * * * * * + +LXXI “My throat becomes dry.” + +See Sappho, Frag. 2. (Wharton): “ ... For when I see thee but a little, +I have no utterance left, my tongue is broken down, and straightway a +subtle fire has run under my skin. With my eyes I have no sight, my ears +ring, sweat pours down, and a trembling seizes all my body; I am paler +than grass, and seem in my madness little better than one dead....” + + * * * * * + +LXXV “The object.” + +See the sixth mime of Herondas (too long to reproduce here) translated +in Symonds’ “Studies of the Greek Poets” (Third edition. 1893. II-237). +This mime describes a visit between two women in reference to the same +sort of object sought by Bilitis’ friend. One of Herondas’ ladies +remarks, about her leather worker, “He works at his own house and sells +on the sly ... but the things he makes, they’re like Athene’s handiwork +... a cobbler more kindly disposed toward the female sex you would not +find....” The price was “fourpence.” + + * * * * * + +LXXXI “Thy hair is moist.” + +See Meleager (Anth. Pal. V-175): “Truly, thou betrayest thyself; thy +locks, still moist with perfumes, denounce thy dissolute life; thine +eyes, heavy with fatigue, show well how thy night has been passed; this +coronal upon thy forehead reveals the festival; this disordered hair +shows the path of amorous hands; and all thy body staggers under the +vapors of the wine....” + + * * * * * + +LXXXIII “For whom, now, shall I paint my lips?” + +See Paulus Silentiarius (Anth. Pal. V-228): “For whom shall I curl my +hair? for whom trim my nails? for whom perfume my hands? To what end +this purple-banded cloak, since I go not to beautiful Rhodopis?...” + + +EPIGRAMS IN THE ISLAND OF CYPROS + +XCIV “Thyrses.” + +These were long rods, often surmounted by a pine cone, carried by +votaries of Dionysos. Too long to be used as drum-sticks. + + * * * * * + +CI “Conversation.” + +See Philodemos (Anth. Pal. V-46): “I salute thee.--I salute thee +also.--What is thy name?--And thine? Thou mayest know mine later.--Thou +art in a hurry?--And thou art not?--Hast thou someone?--I have always my +lover.--Wilt thou eat dinner with me to-day?--If thou wishest.--Good. +What shall I give thee?--Give me nothing in advance.--That is +strange.--But when the night is over, give what thou wishest.--Thou art +a just girl. Where is thy dwelling? I will send for thee.--I will show +thee.--And when wilt thou come?--At once, if thou wishest--At once, +then.--Lead the way.” + + * * * * * + +CIII “A girdle of silver plates.” + +See Asclepiades (Anth. Pal. V-158): “Upon a day, I played with facile +Hermione. Like the Goddess, she wore a girdle broidered with flowers; +and on it I read, in letters of gold: Love me, but grieve not if I give +myself to another.” + + * * * * * + +CIX “Athena.” + +Artemis was more likely to be seen bathing, with disastrous results to +the spectator, as noted in the legend of Actæon. + + * * * * * + +CXXIX “The little Rose Merchant.” + +See Dionysius (Anth. Pal. V-81): “Little vendor of roses, thou art fair +as thine own flowers. But what sellest thou? thyself? or thy roses? or +both together?” + + * * * * * + +CXXXII “She has a good bed.” + +See Antipater (Anth. Pal. V-109): “For a drachma one may have Europa the +Athenian, without fear of rivals or refusals. She has a soft bed and, if +the night is cold, a fire. Surely, O Zeus, there was no need for thee to +make thyself a bull!” + + * * * * * + +CXL “My autumn.” + +See Paulus Silentiarius (Anth. Pal. V-258): “Philinna, thy wrinkles are +preferable to the fresh tints of young girls. I love less in my hands +their straight, hard breasts than thine which incline like full-blown +roses. Thine autumn is fairer than their springtime; their summer is +colder than thy time of snows.” + + * * * * * + +CXLIII “The True Death.” + +Compare Rufinus (Anth. Pal. V-76): “Once I had soft skin, firm breasts +and pretty feet; my body was supple, mine eyebrows arched, my hair +undulating. Time has changed all. Not one treasure of my youth +remains....” + +For the theme developed, see François Villon’s “Les regrets de la belle +Heaulmière.” + + + + +INDEX + + +BUCOLICS IN PAMPHYLIA + +Life of Bilitis iii + +I. The Tree 3 + +II. Pastoral Song 4 + +III. Maternal Advice 5 + +IV. The Naked Feet 6 + +V. The Old Man and the Nymphs 7 + +VI. Song 8 + +VII. The Passer-By 9 + +VIII. The Awakening 10 + +IX. The Rain 11 + +X. The Flowers 12 + +XI. Impatience 13 + +XII. Comparisons 14 + +XIII. The Forest River 15 + +XIV. Come, Melissa 16 + +XV. The Symbolic Ring 17 + +XVI. Dances by Moonlight 18 + +XVII. The Little Children 19 + +XVIII. The Stories 20 + +XIX. The Married Friend 21 + +XX. Confidences 22 + +XXI. The Moon with Eyes of Blue 23 + + * Reflections (not translated) + +XXII. Song 24 + +XXIII. Lykas 25 + +XXIV. The Offering to the Goddess 26 + +XXV. The Complaisant Friend 27 + +XXVI. A Prayer to Persephone 28 + +XXVII. The Game of Dice 29 + +XXVIII. The Distaff 30 + +XXIX. The Flute 31 + +XXX. The Hair 32 + +XXXI. The Cup 33 + +XXXII. Roses in the Night 34 + +XXXIII. Remorse 35 + +XXXIV. The Interrupted Sleep 36 + +XXXV. The Wash-woman 37 + +XXXVI. Song 38 + +XXXVII. Bilitis 39 + +XXXVIII. The Little House 40 + + * Pleasure (not translated) + +XXXIX. The Lost Letter 41 + +XL. Song 42 + +XLI. The Oath 43 + +XLII. The Night 44 + +XLIII. Cradle-Song 45 + +XLIV. The Tomb of the Naiads 46 + + +ELEGIACS AT MYTILENE + +XLV. To the Vessel 49 + +XLVI. Psappha 50 + +XLVII. The Dance of Glottis and Kyse 51 + +XLVIII. Counsels 52 + +XLIX. Uncertainty 53 + +L. The Meeting 54 + +LI. The Little Terra Cotta Astarte 55 + +LII. Desire 56 + +LIII. The Wedding 57 + + * The Bed (not translated) + +LIV. The Past Which Survives 58 + +LV. Metamorphosis 59 + +LVI. The Nameless Tomb 60 + +LVII. The Three Beauties of Mnasidika 61 + +LVIII. The Cave of the Nymphs 62 + +LIX. Mnasidika’s Breasts 63 + + * Contemplation (not translated) + +LX. The Doll 64 + +LXI. Tendernesses 65 + +LXII. Games 66 + + * Episode (not translated) + +LXIII. Penumbra 67 + +LXIV. The Sleeper 68 + +LXV. The Kiss 69 + +LXVI. Jealous Care 70 + +LXVII. The Despairing Embrace 71 + + * Recovery (not translated) + +LXVIII. The Heart 72 + +LXIX. Words in the Night 73 + +LXX. Absence 74 + +LXXI. Love 75 + +LXXII. Purification 76 + +LXXIII. The Cradle of Mnasidika 77 + +LXXIV. A Promenade by the Sea 78 + +LXXV. The Object 79 + +LXXVI. Evening Near the Fire 81 + +LXXVII. Supplications 82 + +LXXVIII. The Eyes 83 + +LXXIX. Fards 84 + +LXXX. The Silence of Mnasidika 85 + +LXXXI. Scene 86 + +LXXXII. Waiting 87 + +LXXXIII. Solitude 88 + +LXXXIV. A Letter 89 + +LXXXV. The Attempt 90 + +LXXXVI. The Effort 91 + + * Myrrhine (not translated) + +LXXXVII. Gyrinno 92 + +LXXXVIII. The Last Essay 93 + +LXXXIX. The Wounding Memory 95 + +XC. To the Wax Doll 96 + +XCI. Funeral Chant 97 + + +EPIGRAMS IN THE ISLAND OF CYPROS + +XCII. Hymn to the Astarte 101 + +XCIII. Hymn to the Night 102 + +XCIV. The Menades 103 + +XCV. The Sea of Cypris 104 + +XCVI. The Priestesses of Astarte 105 + +XCVII. The Mysteries 106 + +XCVIII. The Egyptian Courtesans 107 + +XCIX. I Sing of My Flesh and My Life 108 + +C. The Perfumes 109 + +CI. Conversation 110 + +CII. The Torn Robe 111 + +CIII. The Jewels 112 + +CIV. The Indifferent One 113 + +CV. Pure Water of the Basin 114 + + * Nocturnal Festival (not translated) + +CVI. Voluptuousness 115 + +CVII. The Inn 117 + +CVIII. The Servants 118 + +CIX. The Bath 119 + +CX. To Her Breasts 120 + + * Liberty (not translated) + +CXI. Mydzouris 121 + +CXII. The Triumph of Bilitis 122 + +CXIII. To the God of the Woods 123 + +CXIV. The Dancing-Girl with Crotales 124 + +CXV. The Flute-Player 126 + +CXVI. The Warm Girdle 128 + +CXVII. To a Happy Husband 130 + +CXVIII. To a Wanderer 131 + +CXIX. Intimacies 133 + +CXX. The Command 135 + +CXXI. The Figure of Pasiphae 136 + +CXXII. The Juggler 137 + +CXXIII. The Dance of the Flowers 138 + + * The Dance of Satyra (not translated) + + * Mudzouris Crowned (not translated) + +CXXIV. Violence 140 + +CXXV. Song 142 + +CXXVI. Advice to a Lover 143 + +CXXVII. Friends at Dinner 144 + +CXXVIII. The Tomb of a Young Courtesan 145 + +CXXIX. The Little Rose Merchant 146 + +CXXX. The Dispute 147 + +CXXXI. Melancholy 148 + +CXXXII. The Little Phanion 149 + +CXXXIII. Indications 150 + +CXXXIV. The Merchant of Women 151 + +CXXXV. The Stranger 152 + + * Phyllis (not translated) + +CXXXVI. The Remembrance of Mnasidika 153 + +CXXXVII. The Young Mother 154 + +CXXXVIII. The Unknown 155 + +CXXXIX. The Cheat 156 + +CXL. The Last Lover 157 + +CXLI. The Dove 158 + +CXLII. The Rain of the Morning 160 + +CXLIII. The True Death 161 + +The Tomb of Bilitis 163 + +First Epitaph 165 + +Second Epitaph 166 + +Third Epitaph 167 + +Bibliography 169 + +Notes and Comment 171 + +Note: The Songs marked * are marked in the French index, “not +translated,” and do not appear in the French text. + +M. S. B. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76646 *** |