| Nothing is sweeter than love, all other riches | |
| second: even honey I've spat from my mouth. | |
| This Nossis says: Whomever Kypris hasn't kissed | |
| knows nothing of her flowers, what sort of roses. |
| Stranger, if you sail to the land of lovely dances, Mitylene, | |
| to catch fire from the blossom of Sappho's graces, | |
| say that a friend to her and the Muses, the Lokrian land | |
| bore me. And knowing my name is Nossis, go on! |
Permission is hereby granted to distribute for classroom use, provided that the translator, the press and Diotima are identified in any such use. Other uses not authorized in writing by the translator or in accord with fair use policy are expressly prohibited.
www.stoa.org/diotima