Yes, Atthis, you may be sure 
 
				Even in Sardis 
Anactoria will think often of us 
 
of the life we shared here, when you seemed 
the Goddess incarnate 
to her and your singing pleased her best 
 
Now among Lydian women she in her 
turn stands first as the red- 
fingered moon rising at sunset takes 
 
precedence over stars around her; 
her light spreads equally 
on the salt sea and fields thick with bloom 
 
Delicious dew purs down to freshen 
roses, delicate thyme 
and blossoming sweet clover; she wanders 
 
aimlessly, thinking of gentle 
Atthis, her heart hanging 
heavy with longing in her little breast 
 
She shouts aloud, Come! we know it; 
thousand-eared night repeats that cry 
across the sea shining between us