Hymn to Aphrodite (Ode to Venus)
An English translation by Pierfrancesco La Mura
Deathless Aphrodite, whose throne is cunning
craft, ensnarer, daughter of God, I pray you,
don't subdue with torments and sorrows my heart,
Mistress, but rather
Come, if ever in the past you felt my call
from afar, and heeded it, seeping out of
the paternal abode, shining of gold, and
rapidly took off,
After harnessing your cart; sweet, quick sparrows
led you around dark landscapes, feathers densely
spinning, heavenly spheres travelling through mid
air, all the way down,
And very soon they came; you then, exalted,
with immortal countenance, smiling probed me:
what arose, that once again made me suffer,
and once again call,
What'd most desire that in the frenzied soul would
happen, who am I again being persuaded
you shall win over to your love, who, Sappho,
is misbehaving?
Now may still flee, but quickly shall run after;
now may refuse all gifts, but soon shall offer;
and, if not already in love, shall be in love soon;
willingly, or loath.
Once again come hither, and set me free, I
pray you, from distressing cares; let the yearning
soul accomplish all it vowed; and be, yourself,
my very own ally.