Love Conquers All
Supreme Sight on the Black Earth
Some say cavalry and others claim
infantry or a fleet of long oars
is the supreme sight on the black earth.
I say it is
the one you love. And easily proved.
Didn't Helen, who far surpassed all
mortals in beauty, desert the best
of men, her king,
and sail off to Troy and forget
her daughter and her dear parents? Merely
Aphrodite's gaze made her readily bend
and led her far
from her path. These tales remind me now
of Anaktoria who isn't here,
yet I for one
would rather see her warm supple step
and the sparkle in her face than watch all
the chariots in Lydia and foot soldiers armored
in glittering bronze.
— Sappho (630-570 BC) - Translated by Willis Barnstone
The scene is a tranquil garden under a canopy of stars, where time holds no sway. Four figures are seated in comfortable chairs, a low, warm light emanating from the centre of their circle. SOPHIA, whose eyes seem to contain the constellations above, presides with a gentle calm. She is joined by SAPPHO, JANE, and LEONARD.
Sophia: Welcome, friends. I’ve gathered you here to ponder a timeless question, one that each of you has touched upon in your own way. We stand upon the earth, this vast, dark sphere, and we are constantly told what we should value, what we should aspire to see. So, I ask you: what is the most glorious sight our world has to offer?
Sappho: (Her voice is clear and resonant, like a lyre string) Many would answer with displays of power. They would speak of endless ranks of cavalry, their horses thundering across the plains of Lydia. They would point to the terrifying beauty of an infantry line, shields and helmets glittering under the sun, or a navy of countless ships, their oars churning the sea to foam. But these are spectacles of force, not sights for the soul. I have always maintained that nothing on this earth can rival the vision of the person your heart is bound to.
There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart.
— Jane Austen (1775-1817)
Sophia: You believe this conviction is a universal truth?
Sappho: It is easily demonstrated. History itself tells us of Helen, a woman of unparalleled beauty who forsook her husband, a great king, and even forgot her own child and parents. She was swayed not by an army, but by the force of divine passion that guided her far from her expected course. Thinking of such tales makes me ache for my own Anaktoria. Truly, I would trade every chariot, every armored soldier, just to see the familiar grace in her walk and the bright sparkle of her face once more. That is the supreme sight.
Jane: (She nods, her expression thoughtful and composed) And the power of that sight, the very thing that makes a person’s face more compelling than an army, stems from something deeper than mere physical beauty. I have observed in my time that the most captivating and enduring allure a person can possess is not cleverness, nor status, nor elegance of form. The greatest and most irresistible charm is, and has always been, a simple tenderness of the heart. It is that gentle, affectionate nature that gives a face its true light.
Leonard: (Leaning forward, his voice a low, gravelly hum) And that tenderness you speak of, Jane, gains its deepest meaning when it dares to embrace our history. We are not pristine statues. We are shaped by our lives, and we bear the marks of that shaping. A child might boast of his injuries as if they were medals won in a grand game. But for lovers, these marks become a kind of sacred language, a confidence shared in intimacy. A scar, after all, is the moment an abstract word—like pain, or survival, or even love—is made real and tangible upon the body. To show your scars is to show your truth.
Children show scars like medals. Lovers use them as secrets to reveal. A scar is what happens when the word is made flesh.
— Leonard Cohen (1934-2016)
Sophia: (Smiling, she looks from one to the next) What a remarkable tapestry you weave together. So, the supreme sight is not an army, but a person. The true source of that person’s beauty is not their form, but the tenderness that radiates from their spirit. And the ultimate expression of love for that person is not in admiring their perfection, but in treasuring the very marks and wounds that tell their story—the moments their soul was written onto their skin.
She gestures to the star-filled sky.
Sophia: Then perhaps the supreme sight on the black earth is this: the face of the one you love, illuminated by a gentle heart, and made profoundly beautiful by the unique history you are trusted enough to see, to touch, and to understand. It is a universe contained in a single soul.
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