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(From the Idylls; translated by James Henry Hallard, 1901)
* * * * * I SAW, I maddened, I loved, deep-smitten unto the core, | |
| And naught I recked of the pageant, my beauty waned away; | |
| And how to my home I won I know not, but fever sore | |
| Shattered me on my couch for many a night and day. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 5 |
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| And oft would my flesh grow pale as saffron, and all my hair | |
| Fell from my head; naught other than skin and bones was I. | |
| To what old witch’s abode did I not often repair, | |
| But get me no healing thence?—and the time went ever by. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 10 |
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| Then to my slave at the last I uttered a word of sooth: | |
| ‘Thestylis, find me a cure for love and its grievous blight; | |
| The Myndian hath me in thrall; go thou and watch for the youth | |
| By the wrestling-school, for there to seat him is his delight. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 15 |
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| And when thou see’st him alone, nod gently and say in his ear: | |
| “Simaetha bids thee to her,” then lead him hither,’ I said. | |
| Swiftly she hied her and brought me the smooth-limbed Delphis here; | |
| And when I beheld him lightly over my threshold tread,— | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 20 |
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| Colder than snow I grew, and the sweat in a dewy stream | |
| Brake from my brow, and not so much could I say to him | |
| As a murmuring child may say to its mother beheld in a dream; | |
| But like to a waxen image I stiffened in every limb. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 25 |
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| And the cruel one looked upon me, then cast his eyes on the floor, | |
| And sat him down on my bed; and sitting he thus began: | |
| ‘Simaetha, thy summons outstripped my coming here to thy door | |
| As little as I the handsome Philinus once outran. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 30 |
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| Yea, by sweet Love, I had come unbidden at fall of night | |
| With boon-fellows two or three, and the dearest I could find— | |
| In my bosom the wine-god’s fruit, on my head the poplar white, | |
| Heracles’ sacred burgeon with fillets of purple twined. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 35 |
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| And well for you both had it been had ye opened, for all youths say | |
| That comely and fleet am I; and sleep my soul had assuaged | |
| After but one sweet kiss; but had barred doors kept us away, | |
| Then surely had torch and axe their warfare against you waged. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 40 |
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| The Cyprian chiefly, I ween, my thanks for this boon hath earned, | |
| And next, O my lady, thou that hast reft me from the fire, | |
| Bidding me hither to come that am nigh to ashes burned; | |
| For fiercer than Lipara’s flame is the flame of love’s desire. | |
| Bethink thee, Lady Moon, whence came my love. | 45 |
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| Oft hath it scared from her bower the maiden with passion mad, | |
And the bride from her lord’s warm couch.’
He spake; I heard and was glad, | |
| And took him, alas! by the hand and softly drew him alow | |
| On the soft bed by my side, and our limbs began to glow, | |
| And hotter became our cheeks and so sweetly whispered we … | 50 |
| But I need not babble all the story, O Moon, to thee. | |
| Love’s rites were accomplished, and we both tasted of Love’s delight; | |
| And ever till yesterday I found favour and grace in his sight, | |
| As he did in mine; but today, at what hour the early Dawn | |
| Up from the sea to the sky by her fleet-foot steeds was drawn, | 55 |
| The mother of Samian Philista the flute-girl hither came, | |
| And told me of many things, but chiefly of Delphis’ flame; | |
| But whether to girl or boy my love now his homage pays, | |
| She knew not surely, she said,—this only: in some love’s praise | |
| He aye bade pour of the unmixed wine, and fled in the end, | 60 |
| Vowing to deck with flowers the house of his ‘darling friend.’ | |
| These were her words, and true are they, for aforetime he | |
| Came oft and would leave his Dorian oil-bottle here with me. | |
| But, alas! twelve days have gone, yet I have beheld him not, | |
| Sure he hath some new love and me hath he quite forgot. | 65 |
| But now shall a love-charm bind him; or, if he wrong me more, | |
| And knock not at mine, by the Fates, he shall knock at Hades’ door; | |
| For in my coffer, O Queen, drugs baneful and deadly lie | |
| Which an Assyrian stranger gave me in days gone by. | |
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