Fragment 90 (Voigt 102)
90 · Voigt 102Sweet Mother, I cannot weave my web, broken as I am by longing for a boy, at soft Aphrodite’s will.
Γλύκεια μᾶτερ, οὔτοι δύναμαι κρέκην τὸν ἴστον,
πόθῳ δάμεισα παῖδος βραδίναν δι’ Ἀφρόδιταν.
[As o’er her loom the Lesbian maid
In love-sick languor hung her head,
Unknowing where her fingers strayed
She weeping turned away and said—]
‘Oh, my sweet mother, ’tis in vain,
I cannot weave as once I wove,
So wildered is my heart and brain
With thinking of that youth I love.’
T. Moore, Evenings in
Greece, p. 18.
Mother, I cannot mind my wheel;
My fingers ache, my lips are dry:
Oh, if you felt the pain I feel!
But oh, who ever felt as I?
— W. S. Landor, Simonidea, 1807.
Sweet mother, I can spin no more,
Nor ply the loom as heretofore,
For love of him.
— Frederick Tennyson.
Sweet mother, I the web
Can weave no more;
Keen yearning for my love
Subdues me sore,
And tender Aphrodite
Thrills my heart’s core.
— M. J. Walhouse.
Cf. Mrs. John Hunter’s ‘My mother bids me bind my hair,’ etc.
From Hephaestion, as an example of metre.
VIII