At the beginning, it was the end.
Show’s over. Staged woman and
man after yesterday. Humbled in
why the velvet-red Baroque fringe
fluffs open to operatic deaths,
and Cecilia sings Sposa son disprezzata,
drawing breath in knee scabbing pleas,
il mio sposo, il mio amor, la mia speranza.
Tragic act caught in tissue and tossed.
Childhood taken when Willie’s blue eyes
pierce and Leon’s Lady Blue takes a ride.
Bold and desperate, propelling metal to
tumble blue, rapid flash and smash. So totaled
life’s miracle retreats to the hills in
solace and suffocation. Broken bars
patch blue and prisoners escape skyward.
Brothers (and sisters)-in-arms adoringly stroke
damaged cells of body, breath, and blood.
Auditions gave away all the parts
except for little girls or guides to
Miss Brodie’s prime. Yet knowing these
paper palaces are scripted for another.
Withering whisperers collapse heights and fail
encryption, if only, if only…perpetually
on hold. Carpool, parties and plans
await counsel. Sporting scout badges and
uncovering love by innocence re-touched.
Now, golden streams dissolve lines-dead and gone.
Life in ghost-costume (maiden, mother, and crone)
ends. Performances now delivered beyond
applause and bursting through ribs un-caged.
Sposa son disprezzata,
fida son oltraggiata,
cieli che feci mai?
E pur egl’è il mio cor
il mio sposo, il mio amor,
la mia speranza.
L’amo ma egl’è infedel
spero ma egl’è crudel,
morir mi lascierai?
O Dio manca il valor
valor e la costanza.
Translation in English
I am a scorned wife,
faithful, yet insulted.
Heavens, what did I do?
And yet he is my heart,
my husband, my love,
I love him, but he is unfaithful,
I hope, but he is cruel,
will he let me die?
O God, valor is missing –
valor and constancy.