My Atthis, although our dear Anaktoria
lives in distant Sardis,
she thinks of us constantly, and
of the life we shared in days when for her you were a splendid goddess,
and your singing gave her deep joy.
Now she shines among Lydian women as when the red-fingered moon
rises after sunset, erasing
stars around her, and pouring light equally across the salt sea
and over densely flowered fields;
and lucent dew spreads on the earth to quicken roses and fragile thyme
and the sweet-blooming honey-lotus.
Now while our darling wanders she thinks of lovely Atthis's love,
and longing sinks deep in her breast.
She cries loudly for us to come! We hear, for the night's many tongues
carry her cry across the sea.