“In Sappho’s poem, her addresses to gods are orderly, perfect poetic products, but the way—and this is the magic of fragments—the way that poem breaks off leads into a thought that can’t ever be apprehended. There is the space where a thought would be, but which you can’t get hold of. I love that space. It’s the reason I like to deal with fragments. Because no matter what the thought would be if it were fully worked out, it wouldn’t be as good as the suggestion of a thought that the space gives you. Nothing fully worked out could be so arresting, so spooky.”
– Anne Carson, “The Art of Poetry N° 88”, The Paris Review, Issue 171, Fall 2004 via @andrewgallix via @mjohnharrison
"Whoever he is who opposite you
sits and listens close
to your sweet speaking
and lovely laughing--oh, it
puts the heart in my chest on wings
for when I look at you, even a moment,
no speaking is left in me
no: tongue breaks and thin
fire is racing under skin
and in eyes no sight and drumming
fills ears
and cold sweat holds me and shaking
grips me all, greener than grass
I am and dead--or almost
I seem to be.
But all is to be dared, because even a person of poverty . . ."
Fragment 31
Sappho; translation by Anne Carson
from If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho (Vintage, 2003) via
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