Dum Spiro, Spero

While I Breathe, I Hope


no: tongue breaks and thin
fire is racing under skin
and in eyes no sight and drumming
fills ears

—

from If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho translated by Anne Carson (via acheiropoietos)

One of my favorite volumes. I bought a copy immediately after discovering it.

(Source: acheiropoietos)

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    ὐπαδεδπόμακεν,ὀππάτεζζι...ἐπιγρό-μειζι
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