you caught my voice far off

Not to overplay my heavy-hitting queer ladies in the first week, but I drank a lot of wine in the Greek Islands today, and it's hard to do that and not start having feelings about Sappho. At least, it is if you're me. This is the only extant poem of Sappho's that survives in its entirety, and some things about it may seem familiar to some of you; it was extremely influential to later love poetry. The translation, as always, is Anne Carson's.

Deathless Aphrodite of the spangled mind,
child of Zeus, who twists lures, I beg you
do not break with hard pains,
          O lady, my heart

but come here if ever before
you caught my voice far off
and listening left your father's
          golden house and came,

yoking your car. And fine birds brought you,
quick sparrows over the black earth
whipping their wings down the sky
          through midair—

they arrived. But you, O blessed one,
smiled in your deathless face
and asked what (now again) I have suffered and why
          (now again) I am calling out

and what I want to happen most of all
in my crazy heart. Whom should I persuade (now again)
to lead you back into her love? Who, O
          Sappho, is wronging you?

For if she flees, soon she will pursue.
If she refuses gifts, rather will she give them.
If she does not love, soon she will love
          even unwilling.

Come to me now: loose me from hard
care and all my heart longs
to accomplish, accomplish. You
          be my ally.

—Sappho (b. c. 615 BCE), fragment 1, translated by Anne Carson (b. 1950), from If Not, Winter (2003).