II
You loved me on that moonlit night long since.You were my queen and I the charming princeElected from a world of mortal men.You loved me once… What pity was it, then,You loved not Love… Deep in the emerald west,Like a returning caravel caressedBy breezes that load all the ambient airsWith clinging fragrance of the bales it bearsFrom harbors where the caravans come down,I see over the roof-tops of the townThe new moon back again, but shall not seeThe joy that once it had in store for me,Nor know again the voice upon the stair,The little studio in the candle-glare,And all that makes in word and touch and glanceThe bliss of the first nights of a romanceWhen will to love and be beloved casts outThe want to question or the will to doubt.You loved me once… Under the western seasThe pale moon settles and the Pleiades.The firelight sinks; outside the night-winds moan—The hour advances, and I sleep alone.*
[Greek text, given in the source only as an ASCII transliteration — see the Appendix for its key]—Sappho. ↩