"May I write words more naked than flesh, stronger than bone, more resilient than sinew, sensitive than nerve."
"The moon has set In a bank of jet That fringes the Western sky, The pleiads seven Have sunk from heaven And the midnight hurries by; My hopes are flown And, alas! alone On my weary couch I lie."
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Source: Sappho, Mary Barnard (1958). “Sappho”, p.84, Univ of California Press
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