A veil and the ribbons from my legs. You see: there is blood upon them. By Apollo, it was in spite of me! I defended myself well; but the man who loves is stronger than we. Wash them well; spare neither the salt nor the chalk. I will place four oboli for you at the feet of Aphrodite; even a drachma of silver. XXXVI SONG When he returned, I hid my face with my two hands. He said to me: “Fear nothing. Who has seen our kissing?--Who has seen us? the night and the moon.” “--And the stars and the first dawn. The moon has mirrored herself in the lake and has told it to the water under the willows. The water of the lake has told it to the oar. “And the oar has told it to the boat and the boat has told it to the fisher. Alas; alas! if that were all! But the fisher has told it to a woman. “The fisher has told it to a woman: my father and my mother and my sisters and all Hellas will know it.” XXXVII BILITIS One woman may envelop herself in white wool. Another may clothe herself in silk and gold. Another cover herself with flowers, with green leaves and grapes. Me, I enjoy life only when naked. My lover, take me as I am: without robes or jewels or sandals. Here is Bilitis, quite alone. My hair is black with its own blackness and my lips red of their own color. My locks float about me, free and round, like feathers. Take me as my mother made me in a night of love long past, and if I please thee so, forget not to tell me. XXXVIII THE LITTLE HOUSE The little house where he has his bed is the prettiest in the world. It is made from the branches of trees, four walls of dried earth and a roof of thatch. I love it, for there we have slept since the nights have grown cold; and as the nights become still colder, they become longer also. When the day comes, I am very weary. The mattress lies upon the ground; two covers of black wool shut in our bodies which warm each other. His chest presses against my breasts. My heart throbs.... He clasps me so vigorously that he bruises me, poor little girl that I am; but when he is within me I know nothing more of the world, and one could cut off my limbs without awakening me from my delight. XXXIX THE LOST LETTER Alas for me! I have lost his letter. I had placed it between my skin and my strophion, under the warmth of my breast I ran; it must have fallen. I will return on my steps: if someone has found it they will read it to my mother and I shall be whipped before my jeering sisters. If it is a man who has found it he will give it to me; or even if he wishes to talk to me in secret, I have the means to charm it from him.