{"collection":"Classics","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cla/sob/sob038.htm","path":"cla/sob/sob038.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cla/sob/sob038.htm","text":"Oh, washerwomen, do not say that you have seen me! I trust myself to you; do not betray me! Between my garment and my breasts, I bring you something to be washed.\nI am like a little frightened hen. . . I cannot say just yet if I dare tell . . . My beating heart may even kill me now . . . I am bringing you a cloth.\nA garment and the ribbons about my limbs. You see; there is some blood. By Apollo, it was in spite of me! I struggled hard enough; but men who love are stronger than we are.\nWash them well; spare neither salt nor chalk. I'll pledge four oboli for you at Aphrodite's feet; and even a silver drachma.","title":"The Songs of Bilitis: I. Bucolics In Pamphylia: To the Washerwomen","type":"page"}