Quote:
Originally Posted by beppe
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
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Ginsberg was an extremely talented poet, but reading his works usually depresses me, as he's so hung up on his mother's mental problems, which he describes in ways that leave no painful detail to the imagination. He was obviously a deeply troubled soul.
Quote:
Originally Posted by beppe
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.
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I assume you meant
Sappho; correct me if I'm wrong. That's a lovely poem.