Famous lesbian Rarity meets even more famous Lesbian Sappho.
A recently discovered batch of 42 lyric fragments by the ancient poet Sappho seem to revolve around her attraction to a pony called Rarity. Scholars are puzzled what to make of this seeming descent into madness.
Botched Lobotomy here presents an arrangement of these "figments of imagination", suggestive perhaps of a narrative quite different from the popular interpretation.
An reflection/homage/companion to the remaining fragments of Sappho's poetry through the medium of fanfiction. Specifically, this translation. Familiarity with Sappho is recommended (because she's great), but not necessary.
SAPPHIC FIGMENTS Collected and translated by Raven Inkwell, c.1423 Arranged and rearranged by Botched Lobotomy, 2145
Aphrodite, once more at your brocaded throne I lay, you that know the strength of love not meant to be, entranced, I ask of you, Dear Lady, smiling, will you not mend my heart?
“What is wrong, Sappho? Who this time do you desire? For tell me who your heart now suffers, and I shall make her yours.” This time, change not her own, but mine,
for my breast is pierced with beautiful black arrows, Feathers weighted down with bronze, Dipped cold into the bottom of my love. I really wish that I were dead.
They say that Leda once found an egg— like a hyacinth. I have found a creature far stranger. Eggshell elegance, indebted beyond mortals for her beauty, her mane—
Men write of battles and of glory, swinging shields, a thousand dead, that in the red impassioned heat of war, true paradise is to be found.
Men write in peace their lyrics to the land, to the taming of the animal, the wild sea, and through a window see a world surpassing theirs in beauty, and say that they must have it.
But I say that this little sight, the window, not the land beyond it, is the fairest thing on this black earth; I say there are things more green than grass.
Aphrodite left her husband for another, for want of neither war nor peace, but love. I would much prefer to see her radiant face. her eyes are delicate and wild.
Two moons shine full And you tell me of her desire, And I tell you of her desire, In your world, she fell from the bosom of her sister In mine, she fell towards her lover. It’s the middle of the night. Time passes. But I am not alone.
as we whisper luxuriantly deep within the folds of moonlight I am enchanted by your tiny breaths; small high noises, you steal my laughter with I know not what; you treasure it in a secret place; I do not mind being under your spell
Coming from the waves like Aphrodite on her shell, throwing off small worries drops of water on your fur, sparkling diamond, reflective and impervious.
Soft neck against my skin, once garlanded with marriage flowers, anointed with precious and royal perfumes, breathing, warm, whispering, In the hollow of your chest I find myself, ...entwined of spirit, hoof to heart
Weeping many tears, she left me and said, “We suffer, darling, so they may go on. You know how you were cared for. And if you have forgotten, I would remind you: ... When you are lonely, look up to the stars; and I will look up, too. And even in those different skies, the moon may yet shine high and still, and we shall be together.”
Celestia, O Blessed Goddess, at your golden throne I lay, Immortal of Equestria, weaver of wiles, this I pray, to give me back my love. To let me breathe again.
Rapidly she came. And you, O Princess, asked what did I especially desire: “What can you do? Who can you be? Sappho, how can I help you?
For even if this window were to open once again, if I were to give this gift, soon it would turn to ash, and she would have to leave again.”
That it will not be so... ...All that my heart longs for, fulfil.
Love shakes my breast. As the wind in the mountains, I am battered, I am not overwhelmed. Down below, the rocks, the sea, and glittering below the surface, a window open to eternity—
