May never be known nor
If it pleased the Lord but Saul,
Plunged in darkness not
Of his making weeps the seas
That burden him. Light seeps
Into his turban, the shadowed
Hall - in Syria or Palestine -
Cloistering David, his fingers,
The rich brown of his harp. Once
Divided, now restored, against
His ruins the plucked strings
Are shored. The music
Is all behind the closed eyes.
Why then does the tortured king
Turn his gaze on us, black as
David’s hair? What would he
Have us note, make us sing,
What unspeakable knowledge
Would he have us bear?
*Rembrandt’s Saul and David
That gaze is quite arresting, and I can see how the painting can work when split into two. But how intriguingly you bring it all together. The light and the shadow, the "seas that burden him", the juxtaposition of "note" and "sing." This is such a rich poem, brimming with possibilities but no fixed answers. So good.
ReplyDeleteThank you for such an in depth reading Bhaswati - such a joy to be read like this :) I find Rembrandt’s later paintings so deeply evocative .
Delete