Sappho, Fragment 31 The man who sits across from you Is almost like a god to me, And you are rare to listen to— Your voice, your words. My heart beats (but my blood is gone) At the sound of your sweet laugh. I cannot look at you for long, I cannot speak. My tongue is wounded, and a light Flame runs beneath my skin. In my eyes there is no sight, But my ears roar. Dank sweat and trembling pass Where my body was before. I am greener than grass, I am almost dying. But courage is enough, because .... New Contrast, vol. 23, #1 (March 1995), p. 40.

Photographer: Harris Steinman Click on photo above for a larger picture

 

A selection of poems

 

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These Pages were first created in November 1996, and updated in November 2005.