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.
“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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