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by Judith Walcutt

Original Sappho fragment in Greek

Original Sappho fragment in Greek













Fragments of Sappho translations

Fragments of Sappho translations













Fragments Based on Fragments by Sappho

By Writers at Hedgebrook’s Raise the Roof Party at Town Hall, Seattle, 2013

Assembled and interpreted by Judith Walcutt


Yet, I am not

Minded Deathless Aphro

beautiful moon glittering, shines on earth


Glittering mouths become light

a clear honest truth

as strong as a full,

pounding, red, red, rose


come from heaven

wrapped in a purple


I spoke to you, Aphrodite, in a dream…

Mad for you, mad for me;

mad for my mind, filled with longing


Prefer those who are wearing flowers

Emptiness. There are no words

love is consideration

moon is down


beautiful things

reddening high on the branch

lament for us

Honeybees devour wasps


“I cannot work the loom” warp or weft—I am


A naked body; in love or regret

A daughter, golden and beautiful

My love, I would not trade all the riches in the world for you.

with a voice of longing, she sang the amens louder than


burned with longing

I might not be a reliable

narrator of my own life

The mermaids, swimming beneath the waves, draw water

deep into their lungs and exhale satisfaction.


Stepping sweetly, urged on by your eyes


Mountain hyacinth

…but you have forgotten me…

prefer those who are wearing flowers


Remember, we did many


She runs, she refuses, she loves

without her daughter

But come with your heart open

you are holy because

you are you

Dear moth

Lovely brought you


Mountain hyacinth


Come to win you

Be here, by

Lady Hera,

Help in lovely handfuls, here supplied,

To dare with or to leave behind.

Come to Yanwi            ,             ACDC


They gain there,   and  ,   and

Come Glorious Hera

Be here Lovely Lady

Help me answer you


The apple branches, cold

Honeysuckle cups

mixed with a festive joy

Here, Cyprian, delicately



He is somewhat dying

A purple flower found, one loom for a slender boy

Thyone’s Crete where the grove

black earth snares, long to win…


Not forgotten, but one they

Couldn’t reach…


And I’m an inch from dying

My legs, fleet as fawns

Grieve the dance



Human can or not, I never know

What today will bring me—nouns or verbs.

Judith Walcutt
About Judith Walcutt

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