YESTERDAY, Nais said to me, I was in the market when a little girl in red tatters passed, carrying roses, before a group of young men. And this is what I heard:
“Buy something from me.—Explain thyself, little one, for we know not what thou sellest; thyself? thy roses or all at once?—If you will buy from me all these flowers, you may have mine for nothing.
“And how much wishest thou for thy roses?—I must have six oboli for my mother, else I shall be beaten like a bitch.—Follow us. Thou shalt have a drachma.—Then, shall I seek my little sister?”
And both followed those men. They had no breasts, Bilitis. They knew not even how to smile. They trotted along like two kids which one leads to the butcher.
AH! by Aphrodite, behold thee! bloody head! rottenness! infection! sterile one! carcanet! clumsy one! good for nothing! evil sow! Do not try to escape me; come yet nearer.
Behold this woman of the sailors, who knows not even how to fold her garment upon the shoulder and who puts on the fard so badly that the black of her brows runs over her cheek in floods of ink.
Thou art Phœnician: lie with those of thy race. As for me, my father was Hellene: I have right over all those who wear the petasus. And even over the others if it pleases me so.
Stop not in my street or I will send thee to Hades to make love with Karon and I will say very justly: “Let the earth cover thee lightly,” so that the dogs may dig thee out.
I SHIVER; the night is cool, and the forest all wet. Why hast thou led me here? is my great bed not softer than this moss strewn with stones?
My flowery robe will be spotted with verdure; my hair will be tangled with twigs; my neck; look at my neck, already soiled with the damp earth.
Formerly, I followed into the woods he who.... Ah! leave me for a time. I am sad, this evening. Leave me, without speaking, my hand over my eyes.
In truth, canst thou not wait! are we beasts to take each other so! Leave me. Thou shalt not open my knees nor my lips. Even my eyes shall stay closed, lest they weep.
STRANGER, pause; see who is signing to thee: it is little Phanion of Kôs, she merits that thou shouldst choose her.
See, her hair is curled like parsley, her skin is smooth as the down of a bird. She is small and brown. She speaks nicely.
If thou wouldst follow her, she would not demand of thee all the money from thy voyage: no, only a drachma or a pair of slippers.
Thou wilt find that she has a good bed, fresh figs, milk, wine, and, if it be cold, there will be a fire.
PASSER-by who pauses, if thou wishest slender thighs and nervous loins, a firm throat, knees that clasp, go to Plango; she is my friend.
If thou seekest a laughing girl, with exuberant breasts, delicately shaped, the croup plump and the loins hollowed, go to the corner of this street, where Spidhorodellis dwells.
But if long tranquil hours in the arms of a courtesan, soft skin, the warmth of the body and the fragrance of the hair please thee, seek Milto; and thou wilt be content.
Expect not too much from love; but profit from its experience. One may demand all from a woman when she is naked, when it is night, and when the hundred drachmæ are upon the hearth.
“WHO is there?—I am the merchant of women. Open the door, Sostrata, I offer thee two opportunities. This is the first. Approach, Anasyrtolis, and strip thyself.—She is a trifle large.—
“She is a beauty. Besides, she dances the Kordax and she knows eighty songs.—Turn thyself. Raise the arms. Lift the hair. Give me thy foot. Smile. It is good.—
“Now this one.—She is too young!—Not at all, she was twelve years old the day before yesterday and thou wilt teach her nothing.—Remove thy tunic. Let me see? No, she is thin.—
“I demand but one mina.—And the first?—Two minæ, thirty.—Three minæ for the two?—It is said.—Enter here and bathe yourselves. And thou, farewell.”
STRANGER, go not farther into the city. Thou wilt not find elsewhere than with me girls younger or more expert. I am Sostrata, celebrated even beyond the sea.
See this one whose eyes are green as water in the grass. Thou wouldst not have her? Here are other eyes which are black as violets, and hair three cubits long.
I have better still. Xantho, open thy cyclas. Stranger, these breasts are hard as quinces; touch them. And her fair belly, thou seest, carries the three folds of Cypris.
I bought her with her sister who is not yet of the age for love, but who will second her usefully. By the two goddesses! thou art of a noble race. Phyllis and Xantho, follow the illustrious one!
THEY danced, one before the other, with rapid, flying movements; they seemed always wishing to entangle, and yet touched not at all, unless with the tips of their lips.
When they turned their backs in dancing, they looked at each other, the head upon the shoulder, the perspiration gleaming upon their lifted arms, and their fine hair passing over their breasts.
The languor of their eyes, the fire of their cheeks, the gravity of their faces, were three ardent songs. They grazed each other furtively, they bent their bodies upon their hips.
And suddenly they fell, to finish the soft dance upon the earth.... Remembrance of Mnasidika, it was then thou camest to me, and all, except thy dear image, troubled me.
BELIEVE not, Myromeris, that, in becoming a mother, thou hast lessened thy beauty. See how thy body, beneath thy robe, has drowned its slim form in a voluptuous softness.
Thy breasts are two vast flowers, reversed upon thy chest, whose cut stems give out a milky sap. Thy softened belly swoons beneath the hand.
And now consider the tiny babe born of a quiver which thou didst feel, one evening, in the arms of a passer-by whose name thou dost not even know. Dream of her distant destiny.
Her eyes which now scarcely open will one day be elongated by a line of black fard, and they will sow among men sorrow or joy by one movement of their lashes.
HE sleeps. I know him not. He horrifies me. Nevertheless, his purse is filled with gold and he gave four drachmæ to the slave on entering. I expect a mina for myself.
But I told the Phrygian to enter the bed in my place. He was drunk and took her for me. I would rather die in torment than stretch myself out near this man.
Alas! I dream of the meadows of Tauros.... I was a little virgin.... Then I had a light heart, and I was so mad with amorous envy that I hated my married sisters.
What would I not have done to obtain that which I have refused this night! Today, my breasts are pliant and in my worn heart, Eros slumbers from lassitude.
I AWAKEN.... Is he then gone! He has left something! No: two empty amphoras and some soiled flowers. All the rug is red with wine.
I have slept, but I am still drunk.... With whom, then, did I return?... At least, we lay down together. The bed is still steeped with sweat.
Perhaps there were several; the bed is so disordered. I know no more.... But someone saw them! There is my Phrygian. She still sleeps across the door.
I give her a kick in the breast and I cry: “Bitch, thou couldst not....” I am so hoarse that I can say no more.
CHILD, do not pass without loving me, I am still beautiful in the night; thou shalt see how much warmer my autumn is than the springtime of another.
Seek not for love from virgins. Love is a difficult art in which young girls are little versed. I have prepared it all my life to give it to my last lover.
My last lover shall be thou; I know it. Behold my mouth, for which a nation has paled with desire. Behold my hair, the same hair that Psappha the Great has sung.
I will gather for thee all that remains of my lost youth. I will burn even the memories. I will give thee the flute of Lykas, the girdle of Mnasidika.
FOR a long time I have been beautiful; the day comes when I shall no longer be a woman. And then I will know heart-rendering memories, burning solitary envy and tears in my hands.
If life is a long dream, of what good to resist? Now, four and five times a night, I demand amorous enjoyment, and when my loins are exhausted, I sink asleep wherever my body falls.
In the morning, I open my eyelids and I shiver in my hair. A dove is upon my window; I ask of her, in what month we are. She says to me: “It is the month when women are in love.”
Ah! whatever be the month, the dove speaks truly, Cypris. And I throw my two arms about my lover, and with great tremblings, I stretch my still benumbed legs to the foot of the bed.
THE night has worn away. The stars are far away. See, the last courtesans have returned with their lovers. And I, in the rain of morning, I write this verse upon the sand.
The leaves are laden with brilliant water. The rivulets across the paths drag along the earth and the dead leaves. The rain, drop by drop, makes holes in my song.
Oh! how sad and alone I am here! The young regard me not; the old have forgotten me. It is well. They will learn my verses, and the children of their children.
That is what neither Myrtale nor Thais nor Glykera may say, the day when their fair cheeks deepen with wrinkles. Those who shall love after me, will sing my strophes together.
APHRODITE; merciless goddess, thou hast willed that, for me also, the happy youth of beautiful hair shall disappear in a few days. Why am I not dead now!
I have regarded myself in my mirror: I have no longer smiles or tears. O sweet face that loved Mnasidika, I cannot believe that thou wast mine.
Can it be that all is ended! I have not yet lived five times eight years; it seems to me that I was born only yesterday, and now, behold, I must say: No one will love me more.
All my cut hair, I have twisted into a girdle, and I offer it to thee, Cypris eternal! I will never cease to adore thee. This is the last verse of the pious Bilitis.
IN the country where the springs rise from the sea, and where the bed of flowers is made of leaves of rock, I, Bilitis, was born.
My mother was Phœnician; my father, Damophylos, Hellene. My mother taught me the songs of Byblos, sad as the first dawn.
I have adored Astarte at Cypros. I have known Psappha at Lesbos. I have sung as I have loved. If I have loved well, Passer-by, tell it to thy daughter.
And sacrifice not for me a black goat; but in soft libation, press her teats above my tomb.
UPON the sombre banks of Melos, at Tamassos of Pamphylia, I, daughter of Damophylos, Bilitis, was born. I repose far from my native land, thou seest.
Even as a child, I learned the loves of Adonis and of Astarte, the mysteries of the holy Serfs, and the death and return to Her-of-the-rounded-eyes.
If I have been a courtesan, what is the harm? Was it not my duty as a woman? Stranger, the Mother-of-all-things guides us. To forget her is not prudent.
In gratitude to thee who hast paused, I wish thee this destiny: Mayest thou be loved, but never love. Farewell; remember thou, in thine old age, that thou hast seen my tomb.
UNDER the black leaves of the laurels, under the amorous blooms of the roses, it is here that I lie, I who have known how to braid line with line, and exalt the kiss.
I grew in the land of the nymphs; I lived in the isle of lovers; I died in the isle of Cypros. It is for this that my name is illustrious and my stèle cleaned with oil.
Weep not for me, thou who pausest; they made me fair funeral rites; the weepers bruised their cheeks; they have laid in my tomb my mirrors and my necklaces.
And now, over the pale meadows of asphodel, I walk, an impalpable shadow, and the remembrance of my earthly life is the joy of my life in the underworld.
I. Bilitis’ saemmtliche Lieder zum ersten Male herausgegeben und mit einem Woerterbuche versehen, von G. Heim.—Leipzig. 1894.
II. Les Chansons de Bilitis, traduites du Grec pour la première fois par P. L. Paris. 1895.
III. Six Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en vers par Mme. Jean Bertheroy.—Revue pour les jeunes filles. Paris. Armand Colin. 1896.
IV. Vingt-six Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en allemand par Richard Dehmel.—Die Gesellschaft. Zeitung. 1896.
V. Vingt Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en allemand par le Dr. Paul Goldmann. Frankfurter Zeitung. 1896.
VI. Les Chansons de Bilitis, par le Pr. von Willamovitz-Moellendorf.—Goettingsche Gelehrte—Goettingen. 1896.
VII. Huit Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en tcheque par Alexandre Backovsky.—Prague. 1897.
VIII. Quatre Chansons de Bilitis, traduites en suédois par Gustav Uddgren.—Nordisk Revy.—Stockholm. 1897.
IX. Trois Chansons de Bilitis, mises en musique par Claude Debussy.—Paris. Fromont. 1898.
“Translated from the Greek.”
The antique sketches here rendered in English, some of which possess great beauty, appeared first, in French, in 1894, bearing the legend “Translated from the Greek.” This feeling of translation the Author attempted to strengthen by recording, in his Index, certain “songs” marked “not translated” which, as a matter of fact, never existed. It is extremely doubtful, however, whether anyone really acquainted with the Greek Poets was misled, even for a moment. Internal evidence often points to modern thought and ideas; and a number of the pieces, if not exactly “translated” are at least adapted from epigrams by various writers of established place in the Greek Anthology. These would at once indicate “Bilitis” as an imaginary personage.
In the following notes, some of the more important of the direct translations and paraphrases from antique writers have been indicated, with an occasional comment, for the convenience and interest of the reader.
The English translation itself is complete and has been kept in close parallel with the French text, except for a few changes in tense which seemed advisable.
M. S. B.
“Psappha.”
No authority is evident for the statement that Sappho was known at Lesbos under the name of “Psappha.”
It seems likely, from Pierre Louÿs’ general attitude toward the “Poetess” and his description of her in XLVI, that at the time he wrote the Songs of Bilitis he was either indifferently acquainted with the known facts of Sappho’s life or deliberately chose, with some other modern writers, to disregard or misunderstand them. Dr. Horace Manchester Brown, in the Preface to his translation of the present work (Aldus Society. 1904) remarks that “the translator has felt that such a protest (in defense of Sappho by a professor of Göttingen) and such a defense were unnecessary and has believed that the beauty of the pictures presented by many of the songs is sufficient excuse for their existence....” A few words on the subject of Sappho seem desirable, however, since it cannot be assumed that all the readers of this volume are familiar with the facts of Sappho’s life.
On the testimony of many writers of antiquity—who, at least, had more on which to base an opinion than we have—the description in XLVI of “ ... her hair cut like that of an athlete ... virile breast ... narrow hips,” and, as assumed, ready to prey lasciviously upon any passer-by, becomes ridiculous and defamatory. Sappho’s brother, Larichus, was public cup-bearer at Mytilene, an office held only by young men of noble birth. She herself, “violet-weaving, pure, soft-smiling” as Alcæus says, although “small and dark” according to Maximus Tyrius, was, according to her own words, “of a quiet temper” and in all probability was married and mother of a daughter named Cleis whom she mentions in an extant fragment (72), which, considering the personal tone of so many of her poems, may be taken as something more than a poetic fancy; “I have a fair daughter with a form like a golden flower, Cleis the beloved, above whom I prize nor all Lydia nor lovely Lesbos.” (Wharton.) Philoxemus describes her as “sweet-voiced.” Damocharis, in the Anthology (Plan. App. XVI-310) describes her picture in glowing terms: “Her eyes overflow with brilliance, showing a fancy rich in happy images. Her skin, smooth and not too reddened, shows simplicity; and the blended gaiety and gravity of her features proclaims the union, in her, of the Muse and Cypris.”
That she gathered about her a society of maidens to whom she taught the art of poetry, is well known; the names of many of her pupils and friends have been preserved in fragments of her verse. How much farther her friendships were carried, as indicated in the poems, will always be a matter for speculation; but that she was a charming, lovely woman, sufficiently reserved, of perfect maturity and free from petty or promiscuous vice seems undeniable. Otherwise, we may be sure the writers of antiquity would have treated her with far less veneration and respect.
“A verse of Sappho.”
This is the verse placed by Pierre Louÿs at the beginning of “Elegiacs in Mytilene.”
“Phryne.”
The crime of which Phryne was accused, and for which she was tried before the Areopagos at Athens, was of profaning the Eleusinian Mysteries—a crime even more serious than Pierre Louÿs’ “murder.”
“Apelles revealed his Anadyomene.”
Pierre Louÿs writes “entrevit la forme.” Apelles was a painter.
XIV “Melissa.”
That is: “bee.” Marcus Argentarius has an epigram in the Anthology using the word (Anth. Pal. V-32): “Melissa is thy name and truly so, as my heart bears witness. Thy soft lips sweeten thy kisses with honey, but thou also piercest with a cruel sting.”
XVI “Like a cup with two handles.”
The “amphora kiss,” as though one drank the kiss from a beaker.
XXXVI “My father.”
An oversight, as Pierre Louÿs says in the “Life of Bilitis,” she seems never to have known her father for he is not mentioned ...” See also the First and Second Epitaphs.
XLII “First dawn.”
Execrations of the morning light were popular among the Greek amatory poets. See Meleager (Anth. Pal. V-172): “Star of Morning, enemy of lovers, why shinest thou so quickly upon the couch where, a moment since, I lay warm with Demo?...”
XLIII “The trunks of the pines.”
The same thought in the “Song of Songs” (Song of Solomon) I-17: “The beams of our house are of cedar and our rafters of fir.”
John Addington Symonds in his “Problem in Greek Ethics” (London. 1901. pp 71-72) remarks: “Lesbian passion, as the Greeks called it, never obtained the same social sanction as boy-love. It is significant that Greek Mythology offers no legends of the goddesses parallel to those which consecrated paederastia among the male deities. Again, we have no recorded example, so far as I can remember, of noble friendships between women rising into political and historical prominence.... The Greeks, while tolerating, regarded it rather as an eccentricity of nature, or a vice, than as an honourable and socially useful emotion.... There is an important passage in the ‘Amores’ of Lucian which proves that the Greeks felt an abhorrence of sexual inversion among women similar to that which moderns feel for its manifestation among men.... And ... while the love of males for males in Greece obtained moralisation, and reached the high position of a recognized social function, the love of female for female remained undeveloped and unhonoured, on the same level as both forms of homosexual passion in the modern European world are.”
The exposition, perhaps beyond decorum, of Lesbian love in this section of the Songs of Bilitis has no parallel in all Greek literature where references to the subject are very few.
LXXI “My throat becomes dry.”
See Sappho, Frag. 2. (Wharton): “ ... For when I see thee but a little, I have no utterance left, my tongue is broken down, and straightway a subtle fire has run under my skin. With my eyes I have no sight, my ears ring, sweat pours down, and a trembling seizes all my body; I am paler than grass, and seem in my madness little better than one dead....”
LXXV “The object.”
See the sixth mime of Herondas (too long to reproduce here) translated in Symonds’ “Studies of the Greek Poets” (Third edition. 1893. II-237). This mime describes a visit between two women in reference to the same sort of object sought by Bilitis’ friend. One of Herondas’ ladies remarks, about her leather worker, “He works at his own house and sells on the sly ... but the things he makes, they’re like Athene’s handiwork ... a cobbler more kindly disposed toward the female sex you would not find....” The price was “fourpence.”
LXXXI “Thy hair is moist.”
See Meleager (Anth. Pal. V-175): “Truly, thou betrayest thyself; thy locks, still moist with perfumes, denounce thy dissolute life; thine eyes, heavy with fatigue, show well how thy night has been passed; this coronal upon thy forehead reveals the festival; this disordered hair shows the path of amorous hands; and all thy body staggers under the vapors of the wine....”
LXXXIII “For whom, now, shall I paint my lips?”
See Paulus Silentiarius (Anth. Pal. V-228): “For whom shall I curl my hair? for whom trim my nails? for whom perfume my hands? To what end this purple-banded cloak, since I go not to beautiful Rhodopis?...”
XCIV “Thyrses.”
These were long rods, often surmounted by a pine cone, carried by votaries of Dionysos. Too long to be used as drum-sticks.
CI “Conversation.”
See Philodemos (Anth. Pal. V-46): “I salute thee.—I salute thee also.—What is thy name?—And thine? Thou mayest know mine later.—Thou art in a hurry?—And thou art not?—Hast thou someone?—I have always my lover.—Wilt thou eat dinner with me to-day?—If thou wishest.—Good. What shall I give thee?—Give me nothing in advance.—That is strange.—But when the night is over, give what thou wishest.—Thou art a just girl. Where is thy dwelling? I will send for thee.—I will show thee.—And when wilt thou come?—At once, if thou wishest—At once, then.—Lead the way.”
CIII “A girdle of silver plates.”
See Asclepiades (Anth. Pal. V-158): “Upon a day, I played with facile Hermione. Like the Goddess, she wore a girdle broidered with flowers; and on it I read, in letters of gold: Love me, but grieve not if I give myself to another.”
CIX “Athena.”
Artemis was more likely to be seen bathing, with disastrous results to the spectator, as noted in the legend of Actæon.
CXXIX “The little Rose Merchant.”
See Dionysius (Anth. Pal. V-81): “Little vendor of roses, thou art fair as thine own flowers. But what sellest thou? thyself? or thy roses? or both together?”
CXXXII “She has a good bed.”
See Antipater (Anth. Pal. V-109): “For a drachma one may have Europa the Athenian, without fear of rivals or refusals. She has a soft bed and, if the night is cold, a fire. Surely, O Zeus, there was no need for thee to make thyself a bull!”
CXL “My autumn.”
See Paulus Silentiarius (Anth. Pal. V-258): “Philinna, thy wrinkles are preferable to the fresh tints of young girls. I love less in my hands their straight, hard breasts than thine which incline like full-blown roses. Thine autumn is fairer than their springtime; their summer is colder than thy time of snows.”
CXLIII “The True Death.”
Compare Rufinus (Anth. Pal. V-76): “Once I had soft skin, firm breasts and pretty feet; my body was supple, mine eyebrows arched, my hair undulating. Time has changed all. Not one treasure of my youth remains....”
For the theme developed, see François Villon’s “Les regrets de la belle Heaulmière.”
| BUCOLICS IN PAMPHYLIA | ||
|---|---|---|
| Life of Bilitis | iii | |
| I. | The Tree | 3 |
| II. | Pastoral Song | 4 |
| III. | Maternal Advice | 5 |
| IV. | The Naked Feet | 6 |
| V. | The Old Man and the Nymphs | 7 |
| VI. | Song | 8 |
| VII. | The Passer-By | 9 |
| VIII. | The Awakening | 10 |
| IX. | The Rain | 11 |
| X. | The Flowers | 12 |
| XI. | Impatience | 13 |
| XII. | Comparisons | 14 |
| XIII. | The Forest River | 15 |
| XIV. | Come, Melissa | 16 |
| XV. | The Symbolic Ring | 17 |
| XVI. | Dances by Moonlight | 18 |
| XVII. | The Little Children | 19 |
| XVIII. | The Stories | 20 |
| XIX. | The Married Friend | 21 |
| XX. | Confidences | 22 |
| XXI. | The Moon with Eyes of Blue | 23 |
| * Reflections (not translated) | ||
| XXII. | Song | 24 |
| XXIII. | Lykas | 25 |
| XXIV. | The Offering to the Goddess | 26 |
| XXV. | The Complaisant Friend | 27 |
| XXVI. | A Prayer to Persephone | 28 |
| XXVII. | The Game of Dice | 29 |
| XXVIII. | The Distaff | 30 |
| XXIX. | The Flute | 31 |
| XXX. | The Hair | 32 |
| XXXI. | The Cup | 33 |
| XXXII. | Roses in the Night | 34 |
| XXXIII. | Remorse | 35 |
| XXXIV. | The Interrupted Sleep | 36 |
| XXXV. | The Wash-woman | 37 |
| XXXVI. | Song | 38 |
| XXXVII. | Bilitis | 39 |
| XXXVIII. | The Little House | 40 |
| * Pleasure (not translated) | ||
| XXXIX. | The Lost Letter | 41 |
| XL. | Song | 42 |
| XLI. | The Oath | 43 |
| XLII. | The Night | 44 |
| XLIII. | Cradle-Song | 45 |
| XLIV. | The Tomb of the Naiads | 46 |
| ELEGIACS AT MYTILENE | ||
| XLV. | To the Vessel | 49 |
| XLVI. | Psappha | 50 |
| XLVII. | The Dance of Glottis and Kyse | 51 |
| XLVIII. | Counsels | 52 |
| XLIX. | Uncertainty | 53 |
| L. | The Meeting | 54 |
| LI. | The Little Terra Cotta Astarte | 55 |
| LII. | Desire | 56 |
| LIII. | The Wedding | 57 |
| * The Bed (not translated) | ||
| LIV. | The Past Which Survives | 58 |
| LV. | Metamorphosis | 59 |
| LVI. | The Nameless Tomb | 60 |
| LVII. | The Three Beauties of Mnasidika | 61 |
| LVIII. | The Cave of the Nymphs | 62 |
| LIX. | Mnasidika’s Breasts | 63 |
| * Contemplation (not translated) | ||
| LX. | The Doll | 64 |
| LXI. | Tendernesses | 65 |
| LXII. | Games | 66 |
| * Episode (not translated) | ||
| LXIII. | Penumbra | 67 |
| LXIV. | The Sleeper | 68 |
| LXV. | The Kiss | 69 |
| LXVI. | Jealous Care | 70 |
| LXVII. | The Despairing Embrace | 71 |
| * Recovery (not translated) | ||
| LXVIII. | The Heart | 72 |
| LXIX. | Words in the Night | 73 |
| LXX. | Absence | 74 |
| LXXI. | Love | 75 |
| LXXII. | Purification | 76 |
| LXXIII. | The Cradle of Mnasidika | 77 |
| LXXIV. | A Promenade by the Sea | 78 |
| LXXV. | The Object | 79 |
| LXXVI. | Evening Near the Fire | 81 |
| LXXVII. | Supplications | 82 |
| LXXVIII. | The Eyes | 83 |
| LXXIX. | Fards | 84 |
| LXXX. | The Silence of Mnasidika | 85 |
| LXXXI. | Scene | 86 |
| LXXXII. | Waiting | 87 |
| LXXXIII. | Solitude | 88 |
| LXXXIV. | A Letter | 89 |
| LXXXV. | The Attempt | 90 |
| LXXXVI. | The Effort | 91 |
| * Myrrhine (not translated) | ||
| LXXXVII. | Gyrinno | 92 |
| LXXXVIII. | The Last Essay | 93 |
| LXXXIX. | The Wounding Memory | 95 |
| XC. | To the Wax Doll | 96 |
| XCI. | Funeral Chant | 97 |
| EPIGRAMS IN THE ISLAND OF CYPROS | ||
| XCII. | Hymn to the Astarte | 101 |
| XCIII. | Hymn to the Night | 102 |
| XCIV. | The Menades | 103 |
| XCV. | The Sea of Cypris | 104 |
| XCVI. | The Priestesses of Astarte | 105 |
| XCVII. | The Mysteries | 106 |
| XCVIII. | The Egyptian Courtesans | 107 |
| XCIX. | I Sing of My Flesh and My Life | 108 |
| C. | The Perfumes | 109 |
| CI. | Conversation | 110 |
| CII. | The Torn Robe | 111 |
| CIII. | The Jewels | 112 |
| CIV. | The Indifferent One | 113 |
| CV. | Pure Water of the Basin | 114 |
| * Nocturnal Festival (not translated) | ||
| CVI. | Voluptuousness | 115 |
| CVII. | The Inn | 117 |
| CVIII. | The Servants | 118 |
| CIX. | The Bath | 119 |
| CX. | To Her Breasts | 120 |
| * Liberty (not translated) | ||
| CXI. | Mydzouris | 121 |
| CXII. | The Triumph of Bilitis | 122 |
| CXIII. | To the God of the Woods | 123 |
| CXIV. | The Dancing-Girl with Crotales | 124 |
| CXV. | The Flute-Player | 126 |
| CXVI. | The Warm Girdle | 128 |
| CXVII. | To a Happy Husband | 130 |
| CXVIII. | To a Wanderer | 131 |
| CXIX. | Intimacies | 133 |
| CXX. | The Command | 135 |
| CXXI. | The Figure of Pasiphae | 136 |
| CXXII. | The Juggler | 137 |
| CXXIII. | The Dance of the Flowers | 138 |
| * The Dance of Satyra (not translated) | ||
| * Mudzouris Crowned (not translated) | ||
| CXXIV. | Violence | 140 |
| CXXV. | Song | 142 |
| CXXVI. | Advice to a Lover | 143 |
| CXXVII. | Friends at Dinner | 144 |
| CXXVIII. | The Tomb of a Young Courtesan | 145 |
| CXXIX. | The Little Rose Merchant | 146 |
| CXXX. | The Dispute | 147 |
| CXXXI. | Melancholy | 148 |
| CXXXII. | The Little Phanion | 149 |
| CXXXIII. | Indications | 150 |
| CXXXIV. | The Merchant of Women | 151 |
| CXXXV. | The Stranger | 152 |
| * Phyllis (not translated) | ||
| CXXXVI. | The Remembrance of Mnasidika | 153 |
| CXXXVII. | The Young Mother | 154 |
| CXXXVIII. | The Unknown | 155 |
| CXXXIX. | The Cheat | 156 |
| CXL. | The Last Lover | 157 |
| CXLI. | The Dove | 158 |
| CXLII. | The Rain of the Morning | 160 |
| CXLIII. | The True Death | 161 |
| The Tomb of Bilitis | 163 | |
| First Epitaph | 165 | |
| Second Epitaph | 166 | |
| Third Epitaph | 167 | |
| Bibliography | 169 | |
| Notes and Comment | 171 | |