Eva Colombo, Our gold, seventh chapter:The golden shade ( Inspired by
Elisabeth Sonrel’ s painting Our Lady of cow parsley )
It was the finest day of the Indian summer and the sunlight was worth as gold.
You’ve hurried along the road which leads to that river’s loop which seems to
stretch itself towards the sunset as if the river were unwilling to let the
sunset go. You wished the sunlight to graze you like a murmured blessing but the
river’s bank was encumbered with people that snatched the sunlight, that wanted
for them only the gold of the sun. Then you’ve looked for the shade of the trees
because you felt that tears were about to scald your eyes and you’ve noticed
that eastwards the moon was already risen. November moonlight soothed the scald
of your tears as if a compassionate hand would have placed two cold silver coins
on your eyelids. At nightfall you’ve gone back to the river’s bank; there was no
one and you’ve bent down over that ground martyrized by the trample of greedy
people. The moonlight alighted there as cold silver coins to soothe the pain of
the ground and it was as if a voice would remind you of cow parsley’s white
flowers into which those coins would have turned themselves as soon as May would
arrive and you thought of the underground shade which preserves the life of the
roots during a cold autumn night. And it was as if that voice would promise you
that one blinding day in June when it seems that the sun would never set and the
shade is worth as gold the sight of the cow parsley’s flowers would soothe your
eyes as the cold silver of November moonlight did and a compassionate shade
would be there for you only, a shade that will look at you with my dark eyes
through the cow parsley. |
