Quotes About Yearning

and on a soft bed delicate you would let loose your longing

Because I prayed this word: I want

For me, neither the honey nor the bee.

neither for me honey nor the honey bee

Once again Love, that loosener of limbs, bittersweet and inescapable, crawling thing, seizes me.

And Her soul! Her soul is consumed by this longing.

Stand to face me beloved And open out the grace of your eyes

but me you have forgotten or you love some man more than me

I desire And I crave.

Some say thronging cavalry, some say foot soldiers, others call a fleet the most beautiful of sights the dark earth offers, but I say it's what- ever you love best. . . . . But that reminds me: now my Anactória is gone, and I'd rather see her lovely step, her sparkling glance and her face than gaze on all the troops in Lydia in their chariots and glittering armor.

I asked myself What, Sappho, can you give one who has everything, like Aphrodite?

Reminded me of Anaktoria, who is gone. I would rather see her lovely step and the motion of light on her face than chariots of Lydians or ranks of footsoldiers in arms.

Love-bittersweet, irrepressible-loosens my limbs and i tremble.

I have flown to you like a child to her mother.

To me he seems equal to gods, the man who sits facing you and hears you near as you speak softly and laugh in a sweet echo that jolts the heart in my ribs. Now when I look at you a moment my voice is empty and can say nothing as my tongue cracks and slender fire races under my skin. My eyes are dead to light, my ears pound, and sweat pours over me. I convulse, greener than grass and feel my mind slip as I go close to death Yet I must suffer, even poor

I could not hope to touch the sky with my two arms

A deed your lovely face if not, winter and no pain I bid you, Abanthis, take up the lyre and sing of Gongyla as again desire floats around you the beautiful. When you saw her dress it excited you. I'm happy. The Kypros-born once blamed me for praying this word: I want

Sweet mother, now I cannot work the loom. Sleek Afroditi broke me with longing for a boy.

Often those I treat well are just the ones vainly You I want to suffer In me I know it

There is a boy, and lust Has crushed my spirit - just As gentle Aphrodite planned. Since I have cast my lot, please, golden-crowned Aphrodite, let me win this round!

reminding me now of Anaktoria gone. I would rather see her lovely step and the radiant sparkle of her face than all the war chariots in Lydia

Eros loosener of limbs once again trembles me, a sweetbitter beast irrepressibly creeping in

slender Aphrodite has overcome me with longing for a girl

but a kind of yearning has hold of me—to die and to look upon the dewy lotus banks of Acheron