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si je défaille

@theswisscheese / theswisscheese.tumblr.com

Jo, 26, student of historic preservation. lover of history, french, video games, and cats
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“No longer, O honeytongued, holyvoiced maidens, can my limbs carry me. How I wish I were a kingfisher who flies above the blossoming foam with halcyons, fearless-hearted, a holy sea-purple bird.”

— Alkman, trans. by Diane Rayor from Sappho’s Lyre: Archaic Lyric and Women Poets of Ancient Greece

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reblogged

Jacobello Alberegno, The Harvest of the World, 1360-90

And another angel came out of the temple… and he too had a sharpened sickle. And another angel came out from the altar… saying: wield your sharpened sickle and harvest the grapes of the world, for the fruit is now ripe. - Book of the Apocalypse (XIII, vv. 17-18)

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