Quotes About Desire

Sweet mother, I cannot ply the loom, vanquished by desire for a youth through the work of soft Aphrodite.

yet if you had a desire for good or beautiful things and your tongue were not concocting some evil to say shame would not hold down your eyes but rather you would speak about what is just

Come to me now and loosen me from blunt agony. Labor and fill my heart with fire. Stand by me and be my ally.

Some say an army of horsemen, or infantry, A fleet of ships is the fairest thing On the face of the black earth, but I say It's what one loves.

I want to say something but shame prevents me yet if you had a desire for good or beautiful things and your tongue were not concocting some evil to say, shame would not hold down your eyes but rather you would speak about what is just

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

Because I prayed this word: I want

for when i look at you, even a moment, no speaking is left in me no: tongue breaks and thin fire is racing under skin

Eros the melter of limbs (now again) stirs me - sweetbitter unmanageable creature who steals in

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 I say whatever / one loves, is

but if you love us choose a younger bed for I cannot bear to live with you when I am the older one

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

I desire And I crave.

Nightingale, All you sing Is desire; You are the crier Of coming spring

In Ancient Greek literature male poets tend not simply to portray women as lecherous but to attribute to them a species of lust different from that of males: a subhuman and automatic reflex, an animalistic urge. Sappho is important because she gives a fulle human voice to female desire for the first time in Western history. Since she defiantly chooses the quintessential love-object Helen of Troy as her freethinking agent, she seems fully conscious of the revolutionary claim she is making.

Hesperus, you are The most fetching star. What Dawn flings afield You bring back together - Sheep to the fold, goats to the pen, And the child to his mother again. Nightingale, All you sing Is desire; You are the crier Of coming spring

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.