Illustration by Jacqueline Subkhanberdina
Eros shook my
mind like a mountain wind falling on oak trees
—Sappho, Fragment 47, translated by Anne Carson
I paid the breeze no mind,
but the ancient trees, they knew,
gripped Earth steadfastly;
as saplings bend to the
will and whim of the
tempest—
so green as them
I bowed
to inconstant desire;
as the moon
gives freely of
her bright beauty,
so you shine for me—
above a hundred others
in whom envy yields
to awe, in this
too-brief hour
solely yours.
Eleanor Lin (she/her) is a senior at Columbia College majoring in computer science and linguistics. In addition to writing the occasional poem for Quarto, she has also contributed to the Blue and White, Columbia Daily Spectator, Columbia Science Review, and Columbia Continents human rights magazine. She was selected as a finalist for the 2022 Betty L. Yu & Jin C. Yu Creative Writing Prize from TaiwaneseAmerican.org. You can find her on Instagram @elemlin and Facebook.