landor-to-poets

January 30, 2025

Patience! coy singers of the Delphic wood,
The brightest sun tempts forth the viper brood;
And, of all insects buds and blooms enclose,
The one that stinks the most infests the rose.

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Thought:

“O my mountain hyacinth

What shepherds trod upon you

With clumsy, rustic foot?

Now you are a broken seal:

A scarlet stain upon the earth.”

Sappho | Fragment 105(c), tr. Anita George

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