A Valentine's Day Translation of Sappho 2
In which we learn how to be utterly in love with our Erotic Cosmos
Sometimes the best love letters come from the dead.
Sappho, for instance, can still make me hot after 2600 years. And it’s a specific type of heat—one that not only speaks to the beloved human, but to the beloved cosmos as well. Her work teaches me to relish the feeling of being utterly interpenetrated by the world.
Many of y’all will have read my essay (or listened to the podcast version) on how we are always already interpenetrated by both the human and other-than-human beings around us. That’s what we’re talking about here—Sappho’s ability to evoke and embody exactly that type of interpenetration.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t point out that I’m going to be elaborating more on this topic, and relating it to the ancient Orphic Hymns in my UPCOMING CLASS—
A full course description and tickets are available here.
(Paid subscribers to this Mysteria Mundi substack get a discount—code is at the end of this email.)
But back to Sappho…
As I’ve already said, her poems are filled with what can only be called an erotic engagement with the natural world. In fact, we might even go so far as to call her one of the OG “ecosexuals.” Why? Because
Sappho was deeply, irrevocably, swooningly in love with our world,
with the Goddess she saw animating the universe,
and with the people whose love evoked and deepened her relationship with the divine.
And I believe we see this aspect of Sappho’s work most clearly in the fragmentary poem known as Sappho 2. (All Sappho’s poems are numbered, since we don’t have titles.) Like Sappho 1, which I released a translation of recently, it’s believed to be another hymn to Aphrodite.
But whereas Sappho 1 focuses on a playful back-and-forth dialogue between the poet and Goddess, Sappho 2 sets a scene—a sumptuous, deliciously earthy scene, teeming with erotic possibility.
Every time I read Sappho 2, I come away with new insights (and feelings! Man, this is a sexy poem!). This time round, I noticed what (following the work of Terry Tempest Williams) I’ll call an erotics of place—that is, a particular form of being with and in the world that takes pleasure in the sensuality of a specific location.
Of course, this way of being is nothing new…indigenous communities (including those indigenous to the ancient Mediterranean) have known this wisdom since the beginning of time. Sappho’s work simply presents us with an extremely compelling and pleasurable way of experiencing this ancient truth. That is to say,
Sappho’s poems seduce us into seeing how the intersection of language, location, and the human body are always interpenetrating each other to create new and ancient erotic openings.
Aphrodite of Crete, Island of Tree- and Rock-Hugging
Sappho opens by calling Aphrodite out of one place (Crete), where She famously was worshipped in rituals that involved embracing trees and rocks. Scholars believe poppies were used to enter into trance states, and then an epiphany of the Goddess would be facilitated by reaching up to a living tree and shaking its branches while the worshipper rested their head against a sacred rock believed to be a navel (omphalos) of the earth.
I don’t think it’s an accident that Sappho calls Aphrodite out of Crete and into a grove that is filled with the quivering leaves of apple trees. By invoking Crete at the very beginning of the poem (or at least, of the part we have left to us), she’s creating a very specific sacred context—one that seeks to encounter the Divine Love in trees, stones, and flowers.
Aphrodite of Cyprus, Island of the Sacred Stone
And if this reference to the island of Crete isn’t enough, Sappho also calls Aphrodite “Cypris,” meaning “from the island of Cyprus.” Ancient texts commonly use this epithet for Aphrodite; it refers to the myth of her birth from the sea-foam at Paphos on the island of Cyprus. (The fact that the sea-foam in question was actually the semen of her father Ouranos’ castrated genitals, is a story for another time.)
Now the sanctuary at Paphos was THE pre-eminent sanctuary of Aphrodite in the ancient Mediterranean world. But contrary to the image that most of us modern folk have about Aphrodite’s physical appearance (i.e. somewhere between an OnlyFans model and a Disney princess), the “statue” at the temple of Aphrodite had no human form.
What was the most famous temple image of Aphrodite in the ancient world?
It was a rock.
Specifically, a large basalt rock (believed by many modern scholars to be of meteoric origin) referred to as a baetyl. You can still see it today. Here’s what it looks like. (Yes, that’s right. We still have it…though now it sits in a museum in Paphos.)
Now, I’m not gonna deny that that is a sexy-ass rock. I mean, the temptation to touch it is strong. Look at the smooth contours, the little scratches and niches to run your fingers along! But let’s face it…this is NOT the image of Aphrodite we moderns have been taught to revere.
So what’s going on? Quite simply…the erotic, for the ancient Mediterranean ancestors, was not confined to the sphere of human love. It was just as likely that you’d encounter the Goddess of Love, Sex, and Desire Herself in a large basalt rock as in your beloved’s bed.
And that, dear reader, is the key to understanding why Sappho is still relevant (and sexy AF) after 2600 years. Because her poetry isn’t just erotic, it’s COSMIC. It revels in the divine juiciness of everything—trees, rocks, flowers, water, sea-foam, bees, sparrows, stars, ships, gods, goddesses, and, of course, humans.
Aphrodite in Sappho’s Grove
So Sappho calls to Cyprian Aphrodite (associated with the sacred baetyl) to come from Her temple on Crete (that is, the sacred sanctuary of trees and stones) into the poet’s own grove on the island of Lesbos. That’s a lot of traveling.
Sappho makes sure to describe her own place of worship in terms luscious enough to tempt the Goddess. There are roses, apple blossoms, and a moist, flowery meadow for grazing, as well as spring water that burbles up through the abundant growth.
And if you’re thinking, “Wait a second…exactly what type of ‘moist meadow’ is Sappho inviting the Goddess to munch on?” You’re right. This invitation is exactly as sexy in the Greek as it appears to be in my translation. There is little doubt about what’s about to (ahem) go down in this decadent meadow.
Aphrodite is asked to take on the priestess’ garb herself, to pour the wine mixed with water and honey (as the Greeks traditionally drank it), and to prepare the landscape and preside over what’s to come. Because the poem is fragmentary, we don’t know if the intended lovers were Sappho and one of her beloved girls, a bridal couple (Sappho wrote a fair numbers of hymns celebrating the wedding nights of young couples), or some other erotic scenario. It’s possible that it even referred to the relationship between Sappho and Aphrodite Herself. (In fact, I personally think that is implied even if there is some other human erotic encounter going on.)
Whatever the case, I don’t know about you, but when I read this poem, I can practically feel myself rolling around on the grass in the landscape Sappho describes…can almost taste the cool water, smell the apple blossoms and roses, feel the caress of the breeze as the Goddess descends.
This is the genius of Sappho: to blend human sex, divine Love, and the love of the earth (specifically, of one’s own patch of earth) into one beautiful, sloppy erotic burbling brook.
And this is the lesson (if you can call such a delightful thing a lesson) that Sappho’s poetry has for us today—she teaches us how to live in a way that is not separate from the beauty and eroticism of the world, but as part and parcel of the whole delicious cosmos.
We need this medicine now.
We need to feel the sensual beauty of this earth.
To take pleasure in the flowers, trees, brooks, and rocks.
To savor the chirping of sparrows and buzzing of bees just like we would a fine wine or a lover’s touch.
Come with me, then, to Sappho’s grove.
💝And Happy Valentine’s Day!💝
Yours in earth and starry sky,
Kristin
Sappho 2
Come to me from Crete,
Come to your sacred shrine,
where the altars are perfumed
with apple blossoms and frankincense,
cold springwater burbles
through the limbs of the apple trees,
the site all shrouded with roses,
and enchantment drops
from the quivering leaves.
In the lush, horse-grazed meadow
Spring flowers have blossomed, and
the breeze breathes gentle honey.
There, you—Cypris—having claimed
the priestess’ garland-staff, gracefully
mingle and decant the nectar
into golden chalices for our celebration.
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