The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink

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feel me/read me/follow me

Fragment 31 by Sappho

He seems to me equal to gods that man
who opposite you
sits and listens close
to your sweet speaking

and lovely laughing-oh it
puts the heart in my chest on wings
for when I look at you, a moment, then no speaking
is left in me

no: tongue breaks, and thin
fire is racing under skin
and in eyes no sight and drumming
fills ears

and cold sweat holds me and shaking
grips me all, greener the grass
I am and dead-or almost
I seem to me.

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.

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