Selection from Sappho’s Lyre (University of California Press, 1991). Translation copyright 2000 Diane Rayor; all rights reserved.
| Some say an army of horsemen, others | |
| say foot-soldiers, still others, a fleet, | |
| is the fairest thing on the dark earth: | |
| I say it is whatever one loves. | |
| 5 | Everyone can understand this — |
| consider that Helen, far surpassing | |
| the beauty of mortals, leaving behind | |
| the best man of all, | |
| sailed away to Troy. She had no | |
| 10 | memory of her child or dear parents, |
| since she was led astray | |
| [by Kypris] . . . | |
| * | |
| . . . lightly | |
| 15 | . . . reminding me now of Anaktoria |
| being gone, | |
| I would rather see her lovely step | |
| and the radiant sparkle of her face | |
| than all the war-chariots in Lydia | |
| 20 | and soldiers battling in shining bronze. |
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