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IMPATIENCE

I threw myself weeping into her arms, and for long minutes she felt my warm tears flowing over her shoulder before my anguish allowed me once again to speak:

"Alas! I am only a child; the young men will not look at me. When shall I have lovely young breasts like yours, to swell my gown and tempt their kisses?

"No one glances with avid eyes when my tunic slips; no one picks up the flower that falls from out my hair; no one tells me that he'll kill me if my lips should know another's."

Tenderly she answered me: "Bilitis, little maid, you cry like a cat in the moonlight and are worried without reason. The most impatient virgins are not those the soonest chosen."

COMPARISONS

Sparrow, 33 bird of Kypris, accompany our first desires with your notes. The new body of young girls blooms with flowers, just as blooms the earth. The night of all our dreams arrives and we whisper it together.

At times we match our different beauties, our long hair, our budding breasts, our quail-plump deltas, couched beneath the springing down.

But yesterday I strove this way against Melantho, my elder. She was proud of her bosom, which sprouted within the month, and, mocking at my flattened tunic, called me Little Child.

No man could possibly have seen us, we showed ourselves nude before the other girls, and, if she won upon one point, I vanquished her by far upon the others. Sparrow, bird of the Kyprian, accompany our first desires with your notes.

THE STREAM IN THE WOOD

I bathed alone in the stream in the wood. I must have frightened the poor naïads, for I could scarcely see them far away in the dark water.

I called to them. To mimic them I plaited iris blossoms, black as my hair, about my neck, twined with knots of yellow gilly-flowers.

With a long floating weed, I made myself a green girdle, and to see it I pressed my breasts and inclined my head a little.

And I called: "Naïads! naïads! play with me, be nice." But the naïads are transparent, and perhaps I even caressed their lissom arms, unknowing!

PHITTA MELIAI

As soon as the sun's heat diminishes, we will go and play on the banks of the river; we will struggle for a frail crocus, or for a sopping hyacinth.

We will make a human necklace, and we'll weave a wreath of girls. We will take each other by the hand, and grasp each other's tunic-skirts.

Phitta Meliai! give us honey! Phitta Naïades! let us bathe with you. Phitta Meliades! shade sweetly our perspiring bodies.

And we will offer you, oh! beneficent nymphs, no shameful wine, but oil and milk and many crook-horned goats.

THE SYMBOLIC RING

Travelers coming from Sardis speak of the necklaces and precious stones with which the Lydian women deck themselves, from the tops of their tresses to their tinted feet.

The young girls of my country have neither bracelets nor diadems, but their fingers bear a silver ring, upon the scroll of which the triangle of the goddess is engraved.

When they turn the apex outward, it signifies; "Psyche to be taken." And, when they turn it inward: "Psyche taken."

The men believe in it, the women don't. As for myself, I scarcely notice the direction of the apex, for Psyche is an easy catch. She is always to be taken.

MOONLIGHT DANCES

Upon the soft grass, in the night, young girls with violet hair have danced together, and one of each pair gave the lover's answer.

The virgins said: "We are not for you." And, as though they were ashamed, they shielded their virginity. An aegipan played a flute beneath the trees.

The others said: "But you will come to seek us." They fashioned their dresses after the manly garb, and languidly struggled and twined their dancing limbs.

Then, each declaring herself to be subdued, she took her comrade by the ears, cup-fashion, and, tilting her head, she drank a lengthy kiss.

LITTLE CHILDREN

The brook is nearly dry, the drying rushes perish in the mud; the air is burning, and far from the steep embankments a thin clear streamlet flows upon the sand.

There it is from morn to night that little naked children come to play. They bathe, no higher than their calves, so sunken is the stream.

But they tramp in the current and often slip upon the rocks, and little boys throw water upon little laughing girls.

And when a company of passing merchants leads down their great white cattle to the sink, they cross their hands behind them, and watch the heavy beasts.

STORIES

I am beloved by little children; when they see me come they run to me and tug upon my tunic, and grasp my legs about with tiny arms.

If they have gathered flowers, all are mine; if they have caught a beetle, they place it in my hand; if they have nothing, they fondle me and make me sit before them.

Then they kiss me on the cheek, they rest their little heads upon my breasts; they supplicate me with their shining eyes. How well I know just what they mean to say!

They mean: "Bilitis sweet, tell us again, for we are good, the story of the hero Perseus, or else how little Helle met her death."

HER FRIEND, MARRIED

Our mothers carried us together, and tonight Melissa, my dearest friend, was married. The roses still are lying on the road; the torches still are flaming, flaming. . .

And I return by the same path with mother, and I dream. Thus, what she is today, I also might have been. Have I grown up so soon?

The cortege and the flutes, the marriage song; the flowered carriage of the bridegroom, all these pomps some other night will spread themselves about me, among the olive branches.

Just as Melissa now, I shall disrobe myself before a man and taste of love by night, and later still small babes will feed upon my swollen breasts.

CONFIDENCES

The next day I went to visit her, and we blushed the moment that we saw each other. She had me come into her private room, that we might be alone.

I had many things to tell her; but when I saw her I forgot them all. I did not even dare to throw myself upon her neck, I looked at her high girdle.

I was astonished that her face remained the same, she still seemed to be my friend; and yet, since the night before, she had learned so many things that maddened me.

Suddenly I sat upon her knees, I took her in my arms and whispered wildly in her ear, most anxiously. She put her cheek to mine and told me all.

THE MOON WITH BLUE EYES

At night the hair of women and the willow's branches merge and mingle softly with each other. I walked upon the water's edge. Suddenly I heard a singing voice: 'twas then I knew there were some maidens there.

I said to them: "What do you sing?" They answered me: "We sing of those returning." One waited for her father, one her brother; but she who waited for her lover was the most uneasy.

They had plaited crowns and garlands for themselves, cut palms from the palm-trees and dragged the lotos from the pond. They had their arms about each other's necks, and sang alternately.

I wandered on along the river's edge, sadly and alone, but, looking all about me, I perceived the blue-eyed moon had risen behind the trees, to see me home.

SONG

Shades of the wood where she now ought to be, tell me, whence has my fair mistress strayed? --She has gone down to the plain. --Meadow, oh! tell me, where is my mistress? --She has followed the banks of the stream.

--Beautiful river who just saw her passing, tell me, is she hereabouts? --She has left me to stray on the road. --Oh, road, do you still see her? --She has left me for the street.

--Oh, white street, path of the city, tell me, oh! where have you lead her? --To the golden street, which enters Sardis. --Oh! pathway of light, do her naked feet press you? --She has entered the home of the King.

--Oh, palace of splendor, light of the world, give her again back to me! --See! she has necklaces, hung to her breasts, chaplets of blossoms entwined in her hair, long strings of pearls looped on her legs, and two arms encircle her waist.

LYKAS

Come, we will stray in the fields, under the juniper bushes; we will eat honey fresh from the hive and make grasshopper traps from the daffodil stems.

Come, we'll see Lykas, who watches his father's flocks on the shadowy slopes of the Tauros. Surely he'll give us some milk.

I can hear his flute even now. He plays so cleverly. Here are the dogs and the lambs, and there he leans against a tree. Is he not even as fair as Adonis?

Oh, Lykas, give us some milk. Here are some figs from our trees. We have come to stay with you. Oh! bearded nannies, do not leap so high, lest you soon excite the restless goats.

OFFERING TO THE GODDESS

This garland plaited by my very hands is not for Artemis who rules at Perga--though Artemis will shield me from the labour-pangs.

Nor for Sidonian Athene, although she be of ivory and gold, and bears in her hand a pomegranate to tempt the birds.

No, but for Aphrodite whom I love within my breast, for she alone can sate my hungry lips if I suspend upon her sacred tree my loops of tender rosebuds.

But never will I say my need aloud. I'll stand on tiptoe, whispering my wish in secret to a crevice in the bark.

THE ACCOMMODATING FRIEND

The storm had lasted all night. Selenis of the lovely hair had come to spin with me. She stayed for fear of the mud, and, pressed tightly each to each, we filled my tiny bed.

When young girls sleep together sleep itself remains outside the door. "Bilitis, tell me, tell me whom you love." She slipped her thigh across my own to warm me sweetly.

And she whispered into my mouth: "I know, Bilitis, whom you love. Close your eyes, I am Lykas." I answered, touching her, "Can't I tell that you are just a girl? Your joke's a clumsy one."

But she went on: "Truly I am Lykas if you close your lids. Here are his arms, here are his hands" . . . and tenderly, in the silence, she flushed my dreaming with a stranger dream.

PRAYER TO PERSEPHONE

Cleansed by the ritual ablutions and clothed in violet robes, we droop our olive branches to the earth.

"Oh, underworld Persephone, whatever be the name that thou desirest, if this name pleases thee, oh, hear our prayer, Crowned with Shadows, barren smile-less Queen!

"Koklis, daughter of Thrasymakos, is lying at thy door. Pray do not call her yet; thou knowest she cannot fly from thee for ever; but take her later, call some other day.

"Oh, bear her not away so soon, Invisible Mistress! For she bewails her virginity, she supplicates thee through our prayers; to save her we will give our three black sheep, unshorn."

GAME OF DICE

Since both of us adored him, we engaged to play a game of dice for him. That was a famous party. Many maidens watched most anxiously.

She led off with the Cyclops throw, and I cast the Solon. Then she threw Kallibolos, and I, sensing my defeat, besought the Goddess.

I played, I threw Epiphenon, she the high cast of Kios; I the Antiteukos and she the Trikias; and then I threw the cast of Aphrodite which wins the cherished lover.

The girl grew pale; I clasped her by the neck and whispered in her ear (that no one else might know), "Don't cry, my friend, we'll let him choose between us."

THE DISTAFF

All day my mother has shut me in the women's rooms, together with my sisters whom I loathe, who speak among themselves in lowered voice. In my own little corner, far away, I ply my distaff.

Distaff dear, since I'm alone with you, 'tis you alone who'll be my confidante. Your worsted wig of white makes you a woman. Hear me.

If I were able I should not be here, seated in the shadow of the wall and spinning boredly: I should be lain in violets upon the slopes of Tauros.

Since he is not as rich as I, my mother will not let him marry me. But let me tell you; either I will die before my wedding day; or he will be the one to lead me out. . .

THE FLUTE

For the Hyacinthian day he gave me some Panic pipes, of measured reeds well-cut, bound each to each with soft white wax, sweet as honey to my lips.

He teaches me to play, I seated on his knees; perhaps I tremble just a bit too much. He then plays after me in tones so sweet I scarce can hear them.

We did not have a word to tell each other, we were so close together all the time, but the songs we sang were answers to each other, and time again our mouths would seek the flute to find each other's there.

How late it is! the green night-frog commences now to sing. My mother never will believe I stayed so long to try to find the girdle that I lost.

TRESSES 

He said to me: "Tonight I dreamed a dream.-- Your hair came down and fell about my throat. Your locks were as a yoke about my neck, a black fan spreading on my breast.

"And I caressed them; and they were my own; and we were bound together thus forever, by the same tresses, mouth on mouth, like two twin laurels with a single root.

"And little by little, it seemed to me, our limbs were so entwined that I became your body, or you entered into mine like some sweet dream mingling with my own."

When he had finished he softly placed his hands upon my shoulders, and looked into my eyes with such a look I lowered them and trembled. . .

THE GOBLET

Lykas saw me coming, clad only in a short and filmy shift, so torrid was the day; he wished to mould my breast, which was uncovered.

He took a handful of the finest clay, kneaded it in water, fresh and light. When he spread it gently on my skin, it was so cold I thought that I should faint.

Modeled from my breast he made a cup, rounded gently and umbilicate. He placed it in the burning sun to bake, and painted it with gold and purple paints, impressing flowers all about the rim.

Then we visited the spring which is sacred to the nymphs, and threw the goblet in the stream and strewed upon it gilly-flower stems.

ROSES IN THE NIGHT

After night creeps up the sky, the earth belongs to us and to the gods. We come from the fields to the brink of the stream; our bare feet guide us from the heavy-shadowed woods into the clearings.

Tiny stars shine brilliantly enough for the tiny shadows that we are. Sometimes we find a sleeping roe beneath the low-hung branches.

But that which is more beautiful at night than any other thing, is a place known only to ourselves which draws us through the fastness of the wood; a heavy bush of mysterious roses.

For no other touch of god-head upon earth can equal the scent of roses in the night. How is it that when I found myself alone I was not intoxicated by their smell?

REGRETS

At first I did not answer, shame sat upon my cheeks and the throbbing of my heart hurt my breasts.

Then I struggled, I said "No! no!". I turned my head, and the kiss did not meet my lips, nor did desire spread my close-locked knees.

He asked my pardon, kissed my hair, I felt his hot breath on me, and he left. . . Now I am alone.

I see the empty place, the lonely wood, the trampled earth. And I gnaw my fists till they bleed, and I stifle my sobs in the grass.

INTERRUPTED SLEEP

I fell asleep alone like a partridge in the heath. . . . The light breeze, the noise of the water and the softness of the night had held me there.

I had fallen asleep, imprudently, and I awoke with a scream, and I struggled and I wept; but it was too late already. What service are a child's hands?

He would not leave me. Nay, he clasped me more fondly in his arms, pressed me against him and I saw no more, nor earth nor trees but only the glowing fire in his eyes.

To you, victorious Kypris, I consecrate these offerings, still moist with dew, vestiges of the anguish of a maid, witnesses of my slumber and my struggle

TO THE WASHERWOMEN

Oh, washerwomen, do not say that you have seen me! I trust myself to you; do not betray me! Between my garment and my breasts, I bring you something to be washed.

I am like a little frightened hen. . . I cannot say just yet if I dare tell . . . My beating heart may even kill me now . . . I am bringing you a cloth.

A garment and the ribbons about my limbs. You see; there is some blood. By Apollo, it was in spite of me! I struggled hard enough; but men who love are stronger than we are.

Wash them well; spare neither salt nor chalk. I'll pledge four oboli for you at Aphrodite's feet; and even a silver drachma.

SONG

When he came back, I hid my face within my hands. He said: "Fear nothing. Who has seen our kiss? --Who saw us? The night and the moon."

"And the stars and the first flush of dawn. The moon has seen its visage in the lake, and told it to the water 'neath the willows. The water told it to the rower's oar.

"And the oar has told it to the boat, and the boat has passed the secret to the fisher. Alas! alas! if that were only all! But the fisher told the secret to a woman.

"The fisher told the secret to a woman: my father and my mother and my sisters, and all of Hellas now shall know the tale."

BILITIS

One woman drapes herself in snowy wool. Another clothes herself in silk and gold. And still another hangs herself with flowers, green leaves and purple grapes.

As for myself, I must live forever nude. My lover, come and take me as I am; without a dress or jewels or little boots, behold me! Bilitis herself and nothing more.

My hair is black from its blackness, and my lips arc red from their red. My ringlets float about me free and loose and round as feathers.

Take me as my mother made me in a distant night of love, and if I please you in that fashion, please do not forget to tell me so.

THE COTTAGE

The little cottage where he has his bed is the loveliest on earth. It is made of the boughs of trees, four walls of sun-baked clay, and ringleted above with moss and sod.

I love him, for there we lie now that the nights are cool; and, the cooler the nights, the longer they become. At break of day I find that I am tired.

The mattress is upon the earth; two covers of black wool enclose our warming bodies. His chest is pressing hard against my breasts. My heart throbs. . .

He crushes me so hard that I shall break, frail little creature that I know I am; but once he is in me nothing else exists, and I could have my four limbs cut away without awakening from my ecstasy.

THE LOST LETTER

Alas, for me! for I have lost his letter. I had placed it 'twixt my skin and my strophion, beneath the shielding warmth of my breast. I ran, it must have fallen out.

I shall return upon my homeward path; should someone find it he would tell my mother, and I'd be whipped before my mocking sisters.

If a man has found it he will give it to me; or even if he cares to speak to me in secret, I know the way to ravish him of it.

But should a woman once have gazed upon it, oh, Guardian Zeus protect me! for I know she'd tell the tale to everyone, or else I'm sure she'd steal my lover from me.

SONG

"The night is so deep that it creeps between my eyelids. --You will never find the path. You'll be lost within the wood.

--The noise of falling waters fills my ears. --You would not hear the murmurs of your lover though he should be but twenty steps away.

--The odor of the flowers is so strong that I shall faint and fall upon the path. --You would not feel him should he cross your road.

--Ah! though he is so far from here, across the very mountain, I see him and I hear him and I feel him touching me."

THE VOW

"When the waters of the river climb the snowy-covered peaks; when wheat and barley sprout between the moving ocean hills;

"When pine-trees take their birth from lakes and water-lilies spring from stones, and when the sun grows black and the moon falls on the grass;

"Then but then alone, shall I take another mistress, then shall I forget thee, Bilitis, soul of my life, heart of my heart."

He told me so! he told me so! What matters all the world,--where is the madder ecstasy to match itself beside my own!