Sappho   (adaptations – imitations – extensions)
      Perdika Press, 2008:   £4.95   ISBN: 978-1-905649-09-9
To order, contact Perdika Press by clicking here:
or contact Mario at mmpetrucci@hotmail.com
This now I shall sing with skill –
Translating Sappho is inescapably an enterprise of managing fragments and absences. But this very fracturedness becomes, in the hands of Mario Petrucci, a source of improvisatory
potential that speaks radically and convincingly to the contemporary ear. His Sappho offers – as Trinity College Cambridge Literary Society observed of his versions of Catullus –
“a recreative response that is both of its time and unflinchingly true.”
Exploiting the many vacancies occasioned by a voice so often interrupted by entropy, these bold and original adaptations enact a rare engagement with what Sappho might have said –
or, rather, what can be said today through Sappho. Clothed in respect for the Greek muse’s characteristic music, these words dance across the gaps time has bequeathed us.
"A far-reaching and incisive rendering of a poet who continues to haunt the collective imagination."
Through open apple boughs some cool
Mine is grass for the mare to nuzzle who
I want you to come, foam-born, my is-
*
Death, lie there. Still. No one here
(c) Mario Petrucci 2008 copyright mario petrucci 2001
FURTHER INFORMATION

Sappho - published in Autumn 2008 by Perdika Press.
to pleasure my fellows.
Perdika Press
Sappho - two excerpts
Pick any path of concrete or crock to this
spirited place, whose orchard-body belongingly
offers that flickering, altered aroma –
groves on fire.
will sound you – till our thorn-rose brightens
shade and afterwards sleep whispers down,
shaken with softness.
blooms the lowest field into Spring
with warm waft of honey
in the making…
land, my Venus – take each cup we are and
let flow the sweet, leisured as molasses, to mix
us in pleasure.
will indulge you, or tell there was no poetry
in you – only a knack for deadheading roses. No slack
whiff of you, then, no blip of shadow, blending in
in Hell – that hip departure lounge…
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