Dapple-throned Aphrodite, 
eternal daughterf God, 
snare-knitter! Don't, I beg you, 
 
cow my heart with grief! Come, 
as once when you heard my far- 
off cry and, listening, stepped 
 
from your father's house to your 
gold car, to yoke the pair whose 
beautiful thick-feathered wings 
 
oaring down mid-air from heaven 
carried you to light swiftly 
on dark earth; then, blissful one, 
 
smiling your immortal smile 
you asked, What ailed me now that 
me me call you again? What 
 
was it that my distracted 
heart most wanted? "Whom has 
Persuasion to bring round now 
 
"to your love? Who, Sappho, is 
unfair to you? For, let her 
run, she will soon run after; 
 
"if she won't accept gifts, she 
will one day give them; and if 
she won't love you -- she soon will 
 
"love, although unwillingly..." 
If ever -- come now! Relieve 
this intolerable pain! 
 
What my heart most hopes will 
happen, make happen; you your- 
self join forces on my side!