The Poetess: Sappho

Sappho was a lyric poet known for her verses on romantic love between women. There is not very much known about the person Psappha, or Sappho as she is known today and most of her poetry has been lost to us due to a variety of reasons. We do know that Sappho was born some time around 620 BCE (7th century) on the Greek island of Lesbos. Her presence there, combined with the love poems she wrote seems to be where the word "lesbian" began. This word was a 19th century term and was not used during Sappho's own time. There are speculations that her family was fairly wealthy and a consensus that she did marry and had a daughter named Kleis. She was exiled to Sicily twice for political reasons, though those reasons have never been specified. One of her students opened a school for girls in her name to which she herself is sometimes given credit for founding. She did organize her own students into a group that worshiped Aphrodite, Goddess of Love. Sappho died somewhere around the year 570, though a specific date or how she died are unknown.

Sappho was known throughout the Greek world for her musical and personal lyric verses. Greek philosopher Plato referred to her as the tenth muse. She invented a completely new meter for poetry, now known as Sapphic Meter or the Sapphic Stanza which consists of three lines of eleven beats and a concluding line of five. Of course the meter is sometimes off when the poems are translated out of their original Aeoilic Greek dialect. 

Though most of her surviving poetry seems to have a focus on lesbian love, there is not definitive proof one way or the other to confirm she was (or was not) a lesbian herself. Her poems certainly can be interpreted as biographical or they can be interpreted as a character role separate from the writer. She did write verses occasionally about other topics typical of the ancient world, including a poem with verses about her own brothers. Her poems were meant to be sung and accompanied by a lyre and her lyrics became known as wedding songs. The Library of Alexandria (shake head and shed tear here for the tragic loss of such wonderful collections) compiled her poems into 9 books. Sadly only one complete poem, Hymn to Aphrodite, and a few verses from other poems survive today. She was honored and praised among her contemporaries and for many centuries after her passing. Statues and coins in her image have been found throughout the Greek world. The only reason Hymn to Aphrodite survived in its entirety is because it was fully quoted by a Roman orator named Dionysus in one of his own works. Sappho was much sought after for her performances and her image was reproduced on all kinds of "merchandise" around the Greek world. Vases, coins, bronze relief and art can be found sporting her image. She was kind of like the world's first pop star!

             

 Fragment 31 

That man to me seems equal to the gods,

            the man who sits opposite you

            and close by listens

            to your sweet voice

          and your enticing laughter—

            that indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast.

            For whenever I look at you even briefly

            I can no longer say a single thing,

            but my tongue is frozen in silence;

     instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin;

            with my eyes I see nothing;

            my ears make a ringing noise.

            A cold sweat covers me,

            trembling seizes my body,

        and I am greener than grass.

            Little short of death do I seem.

Tender and longing, ardent and desirous, envious and jealous, bittersweet and rapturous in the moment; Sappho's works are heavy with emotion. Her poems are simple and profound at the same time. They capture the essence of love and life and present them to the audience to experience as well. 

I love the sensual.

For me this

and love for the sun

has a share in brilliance and beauty

I desire

And I crave.

You set me on fire.

A servant

of wile-weaving

Aphrodite...

 Eros

Giver of pain...

 Eros

Coming from heaven

throwing off

his purple cloak.

Again love, the limb-loosener, rattles me

bittersweet,

irresistible,

a crawling beast.

As a wind in the mountains

assaults an oak,

Love shook my breast.