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Sappho in Wikipedia
Love is a cunning weaver of fantasies and fables.
When I look on you a moment, then I can speak no more, but my tongue falls silent, and at once a delicate flame courses beneath my skin, and with my eyes I see nothing, and my ears hum, and a wet sweat bathes me, and a trembling seizes me all over
Death is an evil; the gods have so judged; had it been good, they would die
What is beautiful is good, and who is good will soon be beautiful.
How love the limb-loosener sweeps me away
Each thought is a nail that is driven In structures that cannot decay; And the mansion at last will be given To us as we build it each day.
(November 22, 1819 - December 22, 1880)
Who is staring at the sea is already sailing a little.
(October 30, 1964 - )
Writing eases my suffering... writing is my way of reaffirming my own existence.