I love you, Enchantress!
So much, it’s true, yet
I must hie, for my home
Will remain the sea.
‘Tis not for the beauty
Of the maidens of Sicily;
Nor riches undiscover’d;
And no, my sweet Poetess,
Neither ‘tis it for any lost
Wonder or brilliance
Or the Sun’s radiance in
Your smile, your eyes, your kiss;
Nor anything about you
My Beloved, I swear.
As the Cyprus-born is our witness,
I shall dream fondly always
Of our passionate embraces
At our little Latmian cave, as
Nightingales sang for us, as
The gods and the fawns
Looked on, my blessed girl;
I swear, nor ‘tis there
Any distraction in my head
At you near thrice my age,
For you are the Tenth Muse,
And how could any man,
Whither slave or sailor or king
Or Endymion,
As I am all, at once, since you
Forever more; and yet
How may I stay on,
The sea is my home and craft,
Just as the blank page is yours.
Please be happy, for I
Will always be, for having
Loved you, gentle maiden.
There shall be no
Higher treasure for me
As I ply, yet our love
Shall remain sweet
Within my breast,
A miracle cherish’d
Until I die.


Love,

Phaon




~ Carlo Ravin, Love, Phaon, Winter 2001; a poem that may have saved Sappho’s life had she received it from her Phaon before he departed Lesbos without bidding her farewell; upon realizing the next day that he stole away the evening before, so the myth goes, she went to the Leucadian Cliff, and drunken with love, dove into the white-crested waves. In your author's opinion, the dark-haired Poetess, whom Plato elevated to the Tenth Muse, was a Taurus, perhaps with a Scorpio Moon and Venus in Pisces, which might help to explain her imaginative love nature in general, this alleged fairy-tale romance with Phaon when she was 55, as well as to explain astrologically a mythical watery ending. Here, I will give logical support for the non-occurence of such an event for this most remarkable and sensible woman.

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