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    AC Benus
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Ultimate Vehicle of Earthly Bliss - 14. Love me, but . . .

.

Aus „Les chansons de Bilitis“

(Freie Nachdichtung nach dem

Französischen des Pierre Louis)

 

I.

Lied der Bilitis an Mnasidika

 

Liebe mich, doch ohne Lächeln,

Ohne Flöten, ohne Blumen –

Nur mit deinem Herzen

Und mit deinen Tränen

So wie ich dich liebe

Mit allen Seufzern.

 

Wenn dein Busen sich an meinen drängt,

Wenn mein Leben an das deine rührt,

Deine Knie mich umschließen,

Atmet wohl mein Mund so tief,

Daß er deine Lippen

Fast nimmer findet.

 

Umschling mich, wie ich dich umschlinge!

Sieh, die Lampe geht jeßt sterben.

Wir jagen durch die Nacht.

Doch deinen Leib, den lebendigen

Halt ich an mich gepreßt

Und höre dein Stöhnen.

 

Seufze! seufze! seufze oh Weib!

Eros schleift uns durch den Schmerz.

Leichter ist es, ein Kind gebären,

Weniger leidest du um ein Kind,

Als um solche Liebe

Um unsere Liebe – –

 

      ---------------------------------

 

The Two from “Les chansons de Bilitis”

(Free translation after the

French by Pierre Louÿs)

 

I.

Song of Bilitis to Mnasidika

 

Love me, but without the coy smiles,

Without flutes, without the flowers –

Only love with your heart

And with all of your tears

Just the way I love you

With my every sigh.

 

For when your breast presses against mine,

And when my life truly touches yours,

With your knees encircling me,

My mouth must breathe so deeply,

It can almost never

Find ways to your lips.

 

Hold me now while I return your embrace!

For see how the weak lamp sputters.

We’re hounded by the night.

Yet your body in its living flesh

I feel clinging to me

As I hear your moans.

 

Moan, moan, moan for me, oh woman!

Eros loops us through this pain.

For it’s easier to bear a child,

And to suffer for one’s children than,

Endure a love like this

For all of our love – –

 

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_

 

Copyright © 2024 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
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Poetry posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

ReaderPaul

Posted (edited)

How marvelous the depth and rage and range of emotion in these words!  It shows that sometimes love and desire is almost a "steady state," and sometimes "passionately panting present personally pressing proclivity."  I'm not expressing this as well as I would like, but these lines are like luscious lovely lilies with sweet fragrance caressing our senses of inner beauty.

Edited by ReaderPaul
  • Love 2
On 4/21/2024 at 10:42 AM, ReaderPaul said:

How marvelous the depth and rage and range of emotion in these words!  It shows that sometimes love and desire is almost a "steady state," and sometimes "passionately panting present personally pressing proclivity."  I'm not expressing this as well as I would like, but these lines are like luscious lovely lilies with sweet fragrance caressing our senses of inner beauty.

Thanks for reading, ReaderPaul, and for revealing the poem sent you up to poetic heights! Schwabe's work is universally sensual, and I feel lucky to have encountered her in the first place. Thanks again  

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AC Benus

Posted (edited)

On 4/21/2024 at 12:10 PM, Parker Owens said:

What a sensual poem of desire this is! And yet, it’s also steeped in distress, for the last stanza makes clear that this love cannot be acknowledged, cannot be fully known as it was meant to be. Thank you for this translation. 

Thank you, Parker. Pierre Louÿs' fake Ancient Greek poems set the world on fire (at least amongst women-loving women). He may have originally created these Bilitis poems as a form of male erotic interest in "what women can get up to", but it nevertheless maintains its place in LGBTI2S+ belle lettres because of the love Lesbian readers felt for the work. You may or may not know, but the first Gay Rights group for women in the U.S. was titled "The Daughters of Bilitis"  

Edited by AC Benus
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