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Although they are by Sappho
Anactoria by Sappho
And their feet move by Sappho
Awed by Sappho
Before they were mothers by Sappho
Blame Aphrodite by Sappho
Cleis by Sappho
Cyprian, in my dream by Sappho
Drapple-thorned Aphrodite by Sappho
He Is More than a Hero by Sappho
I have no complaint by Sappho
I took my lyre and said by Sappho
In the spring twilight by Sappho
It is the Muses by Sappho
It was you, Atthis, who said by Sappho
Its no use by Sappho
It's no use by Sappho
Mother, I cannot Mind my Wheel by Sappho
Must I remind you, Cleis by Sappho
No Word by Sappho
Ode to a Loved One by Sappho
Prayer to Our Lady of Paphos by Sappho
Sleep, darling by Sappho
Sounds of grief by Sappho
Standing by Sappho
Tell everyone by Sappho
The Muses by Sappho
To any army wife by Sappho
To Aphrodite by Sappho
Tonight I've watched by Sappho
We know this much by Sappho
We put the urn abord ship by Sappho
We shall enjoy it by Sappho
With his venom by Sappho
Words by Sappho
Yes, Atthis, you may be sure by Sappho
You know the place: then by Sappho
You may forget but by Sappho
More Poems
To Aphrodite by Sappho
You know the place: then
Leave Crete and come to us
waiting where the grove is
pleasantest, by precincts
sacred to you; incense
smokes on the altar, cold
streams murmur through the
apple branches, a young
rose thicket shades the ground
and quivering leaves pour
down deep sleep; in meadows
where horses have grown sleek
among spring flowers, dill
scents the air. Queen! Cyprian!
Fill our gold cups with love
stirred into clear nectar
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