greek women poets

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ANYTE

ON THE CYPRIAN

(translated by Marilyn B. Skinner) is of a statue of Aphrodite, often known as the "Cyprian"

because of her origin:
This is the site of the Cyprian, since it is agreeable to her
to look ever from the mainland upon the bright sea
that she may make the voyage good for sailors. Around her the sea
trembles looking upon her polished image.

THE POEMS OF
ANYTEA OF TEAGEA
TRANSLATED BY RICHARD ALDINGTON
======================================
TO ATHENE
LIE there, man-slaying cornel spear; no longer shall the blood of enemies drip from your sinister
bronze blade.
Lie within the steep marble house of Athene and proclaim the manhood of Echekratos the
Kretan.
TO ATHENE
An ox-great cauldron; Kleubotos, son of Epiaspis, dedicates it; wide Tegea was his home; the gift
is to Athene;
Aristoteles Kleitorios made it, who had this name from his father.
TO PAN AND THE NYMPH
To shaggy-haired pan and to the Nymphs of the cotes, Theudotos the shepherd lays this gift
beneath the rock.
They gave him rest when he was wearied with the burning heat, proffering him honey-sweet
water in their hands.

A LOCUST
O shrill locust, Helios no longer beholds you, the singer, in the rich house of Haides;
For now you fly to the meadows of Klymene and to the wet flowers of golden Persephone.
A LOCUST AND A CICADA
Myro, a girl, letting fall a childs tears, raised this little tomb for the locust that sang in the seed-
land,
And for the oak-dwelling cicada; implacable Haides holds their double song.
A BIRD
You will never rise up again with a flutter of thick wings and rouse me from my bed in the
morning;
For a thief came silently upon you in your sleep and killed you, pressing his finger into your
throat.
A HORSE
Damis placed this stone to his horse after blood-red Ares struck his breast.
And the dark blood seethed through his tough hide and soaked the heavy turf.
A DOG
You died, Maira, near your many-rooted home at Locri, swiftest of noise-loving hounds;
A spotted-throated viper darted his cruel venom into your light-moving limbs.
7
A DOLPHIN
No more, exulting in the calm seas, shall I rise from the depths and thrust through the waves;
No more shall I rush past the beautiful prow of a fair-rowlocked ship, delighting in the figure-
head.
The dark waters of the sea dashed me to land and I lie here upon this narrow shore.
A SOLDIER
The earth of Lydia holds Amyntor, Philips son; he gained many things in iron battle.
No sickness led him to the house of night; he died, holding his round shield before his friend.
THEMISTOKLES
This is not the tomb of Themistokles Magnesios: I was set up as a monument of the envious bad-
judgment of the Hellenes.
PHILAINIS
Mourning by the grave of her young daughter, Kleina calls upon her child;
She calls again and again upon the shade of Philainis who, unwedded, droops by the pale flood
of Acheron.
ANTIBIA
I mourn the maiden Antibia, through the fame of whose beauty and wisdom
Many eager young men came to her fathers house. Fate, the destroyer, rolls hope far away from
all.
8
THREE GIRLS
We lived together, O dear land of Miletos, spurning the sin of the lawless Galatians,
We, three girls, fellow-citizens, slain by the violent Ares of the Kelts.
We did not stay for dishonourable embraces but found a bridegroom in Haides.
A PERSIAN SLAVE
This man alive was a Persian slave; dead he is as great as great Darios.
ERATO
Erato, clasping her father with her hand and shedding tears, spoke these last words:
O my father, I am yours no longer, for now black death lays the dusk of the grave upon my
eyes.
THERSIS
In place of the happy bride-bed and sacred marriage songs, her mother laid her daughter in this
marble tomb
A girl who had your beauty and your stature, Thersis. And while we yet speak of her you also
fade away.
PROARCHUS
You courage alone, Proarchus, slew you in battle; your death has sent black sorrow upon the
house of your father, Pheidias.
Yet this stone above you shall speak the fair word that you died fighting for your dear country.
9
ENGRAVED ON A STATUE OF APHRODITE
This is the land of Kypris, since it pleases her to gaze for ever from land over the glittering sea.
So that she may bear the sailors safe to land; and the sea quivers, looking upon her shining
image.
TO A GIRL
Sit beneath the beautiful leaves of this laurel, and draw the sweet water from the fresh spring:
You are breathless from the heat; rest your dear limbs and let the breath of Zephyros touch them.
HERMES OF THE WAYS
I, Hermes, stand here at the cross-roads by the wind-beaten orchard, near the hoary-grey coast;
And I keep a resting-place for weary men. And the cool stainless spring gushes out.
THE HE-GOAT
Watch the horned he-goat of Bromios, how proud are the fierce eyes in his shaggy head!
He is proud because as they go together over the hills Nais holds in her hand a lock of hair on his
cheek.
THE HE-GOAT
The children give you reins, O goat, and set a purple bridle around your shaggy mouth; they
imitate the horse-contests around the Gods temple and you carry them along gently and happily.
10
PAN OF THE FIELDS
O Pan of the Fields, why do you sit by this lonely shaded wood, playing on your shrill-sounding
pipe?
So that my young flocks may feed on these dewy hills, nibbling the fair-haired plants.
FOR A FOUNTAIN
O wanderer, rest your tired limbs under this elm; the breeze murmurs in the light-green branches.
Drink a cool draught from the spring. This resting place is dear to wayfarers in the hot summer.

EPIGRAMS, VARIOUS

Epigrams by Women from the Greek Anthology

Translation and notes by Marilyn B. Skinner, copyright 2000 Princeton University Press; all
rights reserved.

Reprinted with permission from Marilyn B. Skinner, "Ladies' Day at the Art Institute: Theocritus,
Herodas and the Gendered Gaze." In Andre Lardinois and Laura McClure, eds., Making Silence
Speak: Women's Voices in Ancient Greek Literature and Society. Forthcoming from Princeton
University Press, March, 2001.
1. Erinna, G-P 3 (on a portrait of a woman named Agatharkhis):

This picture is the work of sensitive hands. My good Prometheus,

there are even human beings equal to you in skill.
At least, if whoever painted this maiden so truly
had just added a voice, you would have been Agatharkhis entirely.

In the introduction to his Garland, an anthology of Greek epigrams compiled around 100 B.C.E.,
Meleager of Gadara lists "the sweet maiden-complexioned crocus of Erinna" among his
florilegium of poets (Anth. Pal. 4.1.12); the three preserved epigrams attributed to her may
originally have been attached to manuscripts of the Distaff. If Erinna's traditional date of 353/2
B.C.E is correct, this is the earliest Greek ekphrastic epigram (an epigram describing a work of
art). Erinna values the lifelike quality of the portrait; in an enthusiastic tribute to artistic creation,
she compares the painter to the demigod Prometheus because Prometheus' action in molding
humanity from clay involves not merely achieving an illusion of life but producing life itself.
2. Anyte, G-P 15 (on a temple of Aphrodite looking out to sea):

This is the site of the Cyprian, since it is agreeable to her

to look ever from the mainland upon the bright sea
that she may make the voyage good for sailors. Around her the sea
trembles looking upon her polished image.

The Arcadian poet Anyte of Tegea lived at the beginning of the third century B.C.E. She chooses
what was, at the time, atypical epigrammatic material: in her twenty or so genuine epigrams,
verses expressing pity for the deaths of young women and animals and affectionate delight in
children far outnumber those glorifying masculine achievements. She is the acknowledged
inventor of the pastoral epigram, introducing evocations of peaceful idyllic landscapes into the
repertoire of themes. Her most important contribution to the construction of the female viewer is
her "introspective" approach to ekphrases of paintings and statues. Far from offering a detached,
strictly empirical, report of visual experience, they infer, from observed phenomena, the internal
disposition of the object portrayed. This epigram illustrates her strategy: Aphrodite's benevolent
mood is mirrored in the translucent expanse of water viewed from her headland and transmuted
into concern for the mariners she beholds from afar. In the third line, there is an abrupt switch in
perspective to the reverent tremor of the water as it, in turn, observes the goddess' glistening
statue. Descriptively, the epigram presents a contrast of emotive reactions to separate ocular
experiences linked by the mutual apprehension of a brightly sunlit surface. Anyte's efforts to
create audience empathy with the visualized object blur strict boundaries between textual
perceiver and thing perceived, and consequently between that perceiver and the reader.
3. Nossis, G-P 1 (the prologue to her collection of epigrams):

Nothing is sweeter than desire. All other delights are second.

From my mouth I spit even honey.
Nossis says this. Whom Aphrodite does not love,
knows not her flowers, what roses they are.

Over the course of centuries, Sappho's lyrics inspired a host of ancient imitations. For the history
of women's literature, none are as important as those of Nossis, an epigrammatist active in south
Italian Locri in the third century B.C.E. There we meet Sappho refracted through eleven, or
perhaps twelve, unusually subjective epigrams composed by a learned Hellenistic woman. This
is an introductory sphragis or signature-poem in which the author, in the process of identifying
herself, simultaneously articulates her artistic principles and defines her poetic concerns. Here
she alludes to Sappho twice: in recalling Sappho's pronouncement that desire is paradoxically
sweet and bitter (glukypikros) and in stating, at the end, that those not in Aphrodite's favor will
not recognize her "flowers" (a metaphor for her poems) as Sapphic roses.
4. Nossis, G-P 3 (dedication of a robe to Hera, perhaps on the occasion of her marriage):
 Most reverend Hera, you who often descending from heaven
behold your Lacinian shrine fragrant with incense,
receive the linen wrap that with her noble child Nossis
Theophilis daughter of Cleocha wove for you.

At Locri, it was customary for girls to present robes to Persephone, Aphrodite, or other
goddesses when they married (votive plaques from the shrine of Aphrodite commemorate this
ritual). The robe being presented to Hera is made of linen and is therefore a costly garment:
Nossis was of high social rank, as she herself claims. At the conclusion of the epigram she traces
her descent back two generations through the female line. The conventional metonymic
association between weaving and poetry also allows Nossis, in portraying herself as an
apprentice to the dominant craftswoman, Theophilis, to pay tribute to her mother as her earliest
creative mentor.
5. Nossis, G-P 4 (on a statue of Aphrodite dedicated by a courtesan):

Let us go (elthoisai) to Aphrodite's temple to see her statue,

how finely it is embellished with gold.
Polyarchis dedicated it, having made a great fortune
out of the splendor of her own body.

Placed for emphasis at the beginning, the participle denoting the act of departure is
grammatically feminine. We readers are welcomed into the circle of women surrounding the
speaker and invited to discover in Polyarchis' statue what they themselves behold. The overtones
of metallic brightness in the word "splendor" combine with the prior description of the statue as
"embellished with gold" to create an impression of exact correspondence between gift and donor.
Thus Polyarchis herself must have posed for the sculptor. When we recall that Aphrodite in the
Hellenistic period was traditionally depicted nude, we see that the statue is a thank-offering that
also advertises the donor's beauty, spoken of so admiringly in the last line.

ERINNA

English translation of fragments by Daniel Haberman:

There are three extant epigrams attributed to Erinna. Two of these epigrams (2 and 3) are
epitaphs for Baucis and focus on death and marriage, a popular theme in Hellenistic poetry. The
dialect, vocabulary and subject matter of the epigrams are reminiscent of the works of earlier
Hellenistic poets like Asclepiades, Theocritus and Anyte.
1. This portrait was made with delicate hands; Prometheus my good friend,
There are people with skill equal to your too.
Anyway, if whoever drew this girl so-true-to-life,
Had added speech, Argathrchis would be complete.
2.
My gravestone, my Sirens, and mourning urn,
Who holds Hades meager ashes,
Say to those who pass by my tomb farewell,
Both those from my town, and those form other states.
Also, that this grave holds me, a bride. Say also this,
That my father called me Baucis, and that my family
Was from Tenos, so that they may know, and that my friend
Erinna engraved this epitaph on my tomb.
3.
I am the tomb of Baucis, a young bride, and as you pass
The much lamented grave-stone you may say to Hades:
Hades, you are malicious. When you look, the beautiful letters
will tell of the most cruel fate of the Baucis,
how her gather-in-law lit the girls funeral pyre
with the pine-torches over which Hymen sang.
And you, Hymen, changed the tuneful song of weddings
Into the mournful sound of lamentations.
"A Hexameter"
4.
We came to mighty Demeter, nine
Young girls, all wearing our beautiful clothes,
Wearing our beautiful clothes, and even bright necklaces
Sawn from ivory, just like the light of the sun

[debate over the epigrams--West again argues against their authenticity, pointing out that they are
derivative and only contain certain information that was in The Distaff itself. He sees them as
fictions inspired by Erinnas work, claiming that [t]hey seem to have been intended for
inscription, though this in itself does not mean that they were not written by Erinna. The
epigram on Agatharchus is of a quite a different tone and is similar to the poems of Nossis. West
argues on the bases that the poem should be attributed to Nossis, but it is possible that Erinna
wrote on more than one theme. Nevertheless, the epigrams were included in the Greek
Anthology under Erinnas name, and it is clear that in antiquity readers accept them as her work.

DISTAFF

virgins
tortoise
moon
tortoise

. . . Deep into the wave you raced,

Leaping from white horses,
Whirling the night on running feet.
But loudly I shouted, "Dearest,
You're mine!" Then you, the Tortoise,
Skipping, ran to the rutted garth
Of the great court. These things I
Lament and sorrow, sad Baucis.
These are for me, O Maiden,
Warm trails back through my heart:
Joy, once filled, smoulders in ash;
Young, in rooms without a care,
We held our miming dollsgirls
In the pretense of young brides
(And the toward-dawn-mother
Lotted wool to tending women,
Calling Baucis to salt the meat);
O, what trembling when we were small
And fear was brought by MORMO
Huge of ear up on her head,
With four feet walking, always
Changing from face to other.
But mounted in the bed of
Your husband, dearest Baucis,
You forgot things heard from mother,
While still the littler child.
Fast Aphrodite set your
Forgetful heart. So I lament,
Neglecting though your obsequies:
Unprofaned, my feet may not leave
And my naked hair's not loosed abroad,
No lighted eye may disgrace your corpse
And in this house, O my Baucis,
Purpling shame grips me about.
Wretched Erinna! Nineteen,
I moan with a blush to grieve. . . .
Old women voice the mortal bloom. . . .
One cries out the lamenting flame. . . .
Hymen! . . . O Hymenaeus! . . .
While the night whirls unvoiced
Darkness is on my eyes . . .[12]

Alit.:

Erinna: "The Distaff"

Translated by D.L.Page. In his introduction, Page says: "This beautiful fragment is part of
Erinna's 'Distaff', a poem written in sorrow for the death of Baucis, a friend of her girlhood.
Erinna herself is said to have died at the age of nineteen : and this poem, which (according to
Suidas) consisted of 300 hexameters, was perhaps her only published work.".
Much more information about Erinna, along with the Greek text of this fragment and a French
translation, can be found on the Chaerephon website.

. . . From white horses with madcap bound into the deep wave you leapt : "I catch you," I
shouted, "my friend!" And you, when you were Tortoise, * ran leaping through the yard of the
great court.

Thus I lament, unhappy Baucis, and make deep moan for you. These traces of you, dear maid, lie
still glowing in my heart : all that we once enjoyed, is embers now.

We clung to our dolls in our chambers when we were girls, playing Young Wives, without a care.
And towards dawn your Mother, who allotted wool to her attendant workwomen, came and
called you to help with the salted meat. Oh, what a trembling the Bogy brought us then, when we
were little ones! - On its head were huge ears, and it walked on all fours, and changed from one
face to another!

But when you went to a man's bed, you forgot all that you heard from your Mother, dear Baucis,
in babyhood : Aphrodite set oblivion in your heart. So I lament you, yet neglect your obsequies
my feet are not so profane as to leave the house, my eyes may not behold a body dead, nor
may I moan with hair unbound, yet a blush of shame distracts me . . .

* This paragraph refers to the game described by Pollux ix. 125 : one girl (called the Tortoise) sat
among others and spoke with them in alternate lines. At the end of the last line the Tortoise leapt
up and tried to catch, or touch, one of the others - who would then take her turn as Tortoise. The
last two lines are given by Pollux as : (Girls) "What was your son doing when he died?"
(Tortoise) "From white horses into the sea he leapt" (on the last word the Tortoise leaps up) :
hence the first line here.

Josephine Balmer:

the rising moon

falling leaves

waves spinning on a mottled shore

and those game, Baucis, remember?

Two white horses, four frenzied feet and one Tortoise
to your hare: Caught you, I cried, Youre Mrs Tortoise now.
But when your turn came at last to catch the catcher
you raced on far beyond us, out from the great shell
of our smoke-filled yard

Baucis, these tears are your embers

and my memorial, traces glowing in my heart,
now all that we once shared has turned to ash
 as girls
we played weddings with our dolls, brides in our soft beds,
or sometimes I was mother allotting dawn wool
to the women, calling for you to help spin out
the thread

and our terror (remember?) of Mormo

the monster big ears, long tongue, forever flapping,
her frenzy on all fours, those changing shapes a trap
for girls who had lost their way

But when you set sail

for a mans bed, Baucis, you let it slip away,
forgot the lessons you had learnt from your mother
in those far-off days no, never forgot; that thief
Desire stole all memory away

My lost friend,
here is my lament: I cant bear that dark death-bed,
cant bring myself to step outside my door, wont look
on your stone face, wont cry or cut my hair for shame

But Baucis this crimson grief

is tearing me in two

Erinna 4 (Gow-Page 1)
Selection from Sappho's Lyre (University of California Press, 1991). Translation copyright 2000
Diane Rayor; all rights reserved.
Stele and my sirens and mournful urn,
which holds the meager ashes belonging to Hades,
tell those passing my tomb "farewell"
(be they townsmen or from other places)
5 and that this grave holds me, a bride. Say, too,
that my father called me Baukis and my family
is from Tenos, so they may know, and that my friend
Erinna on the tombstone engraved this epigram.

KORINNA:

Korinna 1 (PMG 655)

Selection from Sappho's Lyre (University of California Press, 1991). Translation copyright 2000
Diane Rayor; all rights reserved.
Terpsichore [told] me
lovely old tales to sing
to the white-robed women of Tanagra
 and the city delighted greatly
5 in my voice, clear as the swallow's.

Since whenever great . . .

false . . .
. . . land with wide dancing-places,
and stories from our fathers' time
10 by my art adorned
for the young women [I'll begin].

Many times I adorned

the leader Kephisos with stories --
often, too, the great Orion
15 and his fifty strong sons
from his mingling with nymphs
. . . Libya . . .

*
I tell of the girl . . .
20 lovely to see . . .
the [land] bears . . .
. . . I bore . . .

NOSSIS

Sylvia Barnard:

Nossis: selections from the epigrams found in the Greek Anthology

Selection from Sappho's Lyre (University of California Press, 1991). Translation copyright 2000
Diane Rayor; all rights reserved.
Nossis 1 (EG 1)
Nothing is sweeter than love, all other riches
second: even honey I've spat from my mouth.
This Nossis says: Whomever Kypris hasn't kissed
knows nothing of her flowers, what sort of roses.
Nossis 2 (EG 11)
Stranger, if you sail to the land of lovely dances, Mitylene,
to catch fire from the blossom of Sappho's graces,
 say that a friend to her and the Muses, the Lokrian land
bore me. And knowing my name is Nossis, go on!

Ian Michael Plant on and tr. NOSSIS:

of 3 Sylvia Barnard says

Syliva Barnard comments on 4. that Nossis might have been a sacred prostitute herself, and
certainly was comfortable with the way Polyarchis earned the money to dedicate an image.
Antipaters praise of Nossis

, ,
, , , ,
,
, , , ,
,
, ,
.
,
, .

Such women with divine tongue raised with hymns the Helicon
and (so did) the peak of the Macedonian Pieria,
Praxilla, Moero, the mouth of Anyte, the female Homer,
Sappho jewel of Lesbos' women by the beautiful hair,
Erinna, the famous Telesilla and you, Corinna,
who sang the fearsome shield of Athena,
Nossis by the soothing female voice and the sweet song of Myrtis,
all authors of immortal texts.
Nine Muses (generated) the great Uranus, and also nine
by Gaia generated, everlasting joy of mortals.

(Antipater of Thessalonica, Palatine Anthology IX, 26)

PRAXILLA

Selected Fragments of Praxilla

Selection from Sappho's Lyre (University of California Press, 1991). Translation copyright 2000
Diane Rayor; all rights reserved.
Praxilla 1 (PMG 747)
The fairest thing I leave behind is sunlight,
then shining stars and the full moon's face,
and also ripe cucumbers, and apples and pears.
2 (PMG 748)
Yet they never persuaded your heart.
3 (PMG 749)
Learning from the tale of Admetos, my friend, love the brave
but avoid cowards, knowing the gratitude of cowards is small.
4 (PMG 750)
Watch for a scorpion, my friend, under every stone.
5 (PMG 754)
You who look lovely from the windows --
a virgin face, but newly wed below . . .