|
I could not resist to whirlwind this.
Heterosexual love by Tom. Then I thought to get a poem by Saffo. surfing I came to this Sapphic stanza by Allen Ginsberg.
Red cheeked boyfriends tenderly kiss me sweet mouthed
under Boulder coverlets winter springtime
hug me naked laughing & telling girl friends
gossip til autumn
So I found something, The translation that Catullo made of a Saffo poem that I quote in English. Catullo is a he, and puts a he where Saffo put a she in this poem in honor of her Lesbia.
(Just the raw, unpoetic English, simply for comprehension)
He seems to me to be equal to a god,
he, if it is permissible, seems to surpass the gods,
who sitting opposite again and again
sees and hears you,
sweetly laughing, which stole all
the senses from miserable me: for when I look at you,
Lesbia, no voice is left to me in my mouth.
But the tongue slips, under the limbs
a thin flame pours down, with their own sound
the ears are ringing, the lights (eyes)
are covered by twin night.
Leisure, Catullus, is mischievous to you:
You revel in and desire leisure too much:
Leisure has previously destroyed kings and
blessed cities.
|