The Night *

  1
  
  I've heard her messenger, our newborn spring's,
  the nightingale, whose fine full-throated voice,
  has fluttered from her heavens on her wings
  in a vermilion mantle.   I rejoice!
 
  2
 
  Look!  See, with thousands of garlands our world's
  so star wreathed for a while before they hide
  themselves around our moon, whose light enfolds
  us all in sleep, with nightingales outside.
  
  3
  
  Night's silent sleep has closed the shepherd's eyes,
  and bids the longing nightingales to sleep;
  and night has closed my absent lover's eyes,
  and begs my long aching heart, "Will you sleep?"
  
  4
 
  As the moon's light from the Pleiades sets,
  stark midnight comes and falls around my bed:
  the last night watch has passed, and quite forgets
  my home where I dream all alone in dread.
  
  5
  
  Although my dreams were dark, I'm charged with mirth
  as the full Moon hoves roundly into sight,
  and virgins kiss the altar of their Earth,
  while Hesperus heralds Dawn's earliest light.

   






  © by Richard Vallance 2004
  December 6 2004; revised January 18 2005

* previously published in: Poetry Canada (Canadian Federation of Poets)
Mar-Apr-May 2005, pg. 14 and featured on the cover.  
The Ode as published is available at this link:
http://poesieslaissezfaire.homestead.com/sapphosodes.html

 
  1
 
  My loveliest girl,  my gracious one,
  I loved you, Atthis, long ago.
  Your delicacy in our sun
  seemed beauty's borrowed afterglow.
  
  2      

  Perhaps you were graceless, my small tomboy,
  you who dashed all round sunflowers,
  you, who were my consummating joy,
  you, lovelier than Lydia's bowers.
 
  3
 
  You came.  How I'd longed so for you.
  You came!  You quenched my burning fires,
  and quelled my breast with love as true
  as passions kindling all my desires.
 
  4
  
  Dear Mother, Aphrodite, I
  cannot weave again the web curious Fate
  has woven for me as I cry
  for my slender girl I so consecrate.
  
  5
 
  Love, I, your servant, serve Eros too:
  why do you both still haunt me so?
  What prophecies must I construe
  wherever with you my thoughts go?
  
  6
  
  No!  Love has shaken hard my heart.
  Am I unlike that shattered oak
  fierce winds assail and break apart
  our mountains' storms felled in a stroke?
 
  7
 
  I thought I was so constant.  No.
  Is inconstancy the bane we've shared?
  Am I become the driven snow,
  though love for you I've never spared?

  8
  
  Are you as beautiful today
  (as far as our appearances go)
  as beauty borrowed from the play
  of sun on wildly driven snow?
 
  9
 
  Are you?  Can I ever really know?
  I'm of two minds, oh so aflame!
  Love, with what sallow eyes you throw
  me onto throes of deepened shame.
  
  10
  
  You still keep to yourself.  Gods, why?
  Why have you sailed so far away?
  Virginity, why, I've seen you die.
  Why must I long for you so today?
  
  11
  Here was I, your tender child
  who gathered anemones here,
  here where never again my wild
  virginity will play for you, I fear.
  
  12
  
  Ah Love, my compelling nymph, there
  you see me trembling all over
  for you, as bitter-sweet, as fair
  as wind running through rainy clover.
 
  13
 
  As wind runs in the rainy clover
  it loosens my arms as dark clouds
  go sweeping along all over
  you beyond our sky's vaulted shrouds. 
  
  14
  
  I see you've gone and forsaken me.
  Atthis, have you thoughts no more
  for me, why so?  Why must I roam the sea
  coast howling so, our now lonely shore?
 
  15
 
  Do you fly to Andromeda?
  Why have you fled me, your alter soul?
  I, your nymph, now cast off as Leda,
  from whom her lover, wild Zeus, stole.
  
  16
 
  Am I spiteful?  No.  Forsaken one,
  I grieve as winds sweep off his feet
  the fool who's dared rebuke our sun,
  Grand Helios, who detests deceit.
 
  17
  
  Atthis, Andromeda has her prize,
  her grand reward is you, as fine
  as any girl is in anyone's eyes,
  you whom I see alone with her recline.
  
  18
 
  Atthis, I long to have just a word
  with you, though shame reclouds my sight:
  if honour or good past's occurred
  to you, your claims could banish night.
  
  19
  
  Atthis, will someone someday say,
  Remember her?  Will you?  Who guards
  against the idle tongue, I pray,
  when anger's shattered love in shards?






  
  © by Richard Vallance 2004
  December 9 2004; revised January 18 2005 & March 1 2005

 

Symposium The Feast

 
  1
 
  Ah!  Golden-sandaled Lady Dawn is gone
  and noon's alighted!   Gone, her sun
  has cast its footfall rays, and shone
  on Lesbos.  Now, Dusk, we embrace you, dun.
 
  2
 
  We've seen wild hyacinths vermilion
  all our island's hills since you've alighted,
  Our Lady Dusk!   Your clouds will pavilion
  our valleys, where their full Moon's sighted.

  3
 
  While shepherds tread hyacinths under heel,
  Dusk, you'll outstrip them as they drive their herds
  down to valleys in their light so surreal
  it's hushed our island's trilling warbler birds.
 
  4
 
  If reddened apples ripened on their topmost
  boughs grow more russet as you die away, Dusk,
  their gatherers will leave you for our coast
  where their farm hearths glow smokier with musk.
 
  5
 
  So, Cyrpis, come, come, offer us your grace,
  yes, share with us nectar your right hand pours
  in kratera, and mix its mirrored trace
  with equal grace, for these my friends and yours.
 
  6
 
  Cyrpis, you seem as fortunate to me
  as are gods, though I sit still before
  you, listening to you sing, as you see,
  and to your welling laughter I adore.
 
  7
 
  You've gone and set my heart all trembling in
  my breast as fondly I gaze on you too.
  Why, my tongue's snapped.  I pray, is this a sin?
  Fire steals over my flesh.  I'm flushed through and through!
 
  8
 
  I see nothing with my eyes, my ears merely hum,
  I sweat profusely, I'm seized from head to toe
  with wild convulsions, and I fall so numb,
  look! -- I'm stifling in your lamp's low glow.
 
  9
 
  Am I greener than grass that shivers just
  as the barest breeze tells us night's falling
  all around us?  This I won't endure!  "You must."
  You must find resolve where love comes calling.
 
  10
 
  Now as love summons me to you tonight,
  our messenger of spring, sweet nightingale,
  whose lovely voice sings to us in the moonlight,
  reveals her throated songs, and to great avail!
 
  11
 
  Our ambrosia's bowl is mixed so well
  as Hermes pours his Lesbian wine, our best!
  And all the gods revel in its spinning spell,
  pouring libations on bride and bridegroom blessed.
 
  12
 
  By the Pleiades, all our love's wealth rings true.
  Shunning love's honours, what can wealth spare?
  My valour and love are neighbours to you,
  and our honour's true happiness we share.
 
  13
 
  The earth is so garlanded with stars we
  are their embroidery.  Pray, love, believe me.
 


  © by Richard Vallance 2004 & 2005
  December 30 2004; revised March 16 2005