Yes,
Atthis, you may be sure Even in Sardis Anactoria will think often of us of the life we shared here, when you seemed the Goddess incarnate to her and your singing pleased her best Now among Lydian women she in her turn stands first as the red- fingered moon rising at sunset takes precedence over stars around her; her light spreads equally on the salt sea and fields thick with bloom Delicious dew purs down to freshen roses, delicate thyme and blossoming sweet clover; she wanders aimlessly, thinking of gentle Atthis, her heart hanging heavy with longing in her little breast She shouts aloud,
Come! we know it; thousand-eared night repeats that cry across the sea shining between us
