Short Poems

At last she comes, O never more
In this dear patience of my pain
To leave me lonely as before,
Or leave my soul alone again.

You may forget but
let me tell you
this: someone in
some future time
will think of us

Without warning
as a whirlwind
swoops on an oak
Love shakes my heart

We shall enjoy it
as for him who finds
fault, may silliness
and sorrow take him!

We know this much
Death is an evil;
we have the gods'
word for it; they too
would die if death
were a good thing

Tell everyone
now, today, I shall
sing beautifully for
my friends' pleasure

Standing by my bed
in gold sandals
Dawn that very
moment awoke me

It is the Muses
who have caused me
to be honred: they
taught me their craft

In the spring twilight
the full moon is shining:
Girls take their places
as though around an altar

I took my lyre and said:
Come now, my heavenly
tortoise shell: become
a speaking instrument