We were both exquisite dancers.
Tranced in the scent of prime tobacco
from the burnt-out valley, we twirled each
day at noon on a highly polished music box
all through the scorching days of summer.
Such tours en l'air! Such arabesques!
The Venetian Lion was delirious
with illicit visions of seasons yet to come
and perfumed nights still to savour.
The god-fearing master was appalled.
In vain, he struck his shiny copper bell
summoning the errant child to school
but the troubadour’s lightsome flute
lured her into nights of cinnamon
and into the arms of frenzied goblins.
The danseuses and I recall the grandeur of her nightly moves; the diva was sublime.
I took on the heavy burden of her youth — though such a task was never easy —
and thanked her for her kindness.
Now, I mourn the artless decades lost.
Wrecked and wretched, the theatre still
stands by the indulgence of the ageless
censor but the prima ballerina has not
graced its stage for years.
A few words about the poem…
A Coming-of-Age Fantasy Poem from the Cyprus Poems series
In "The Troubadour's Flute," from the series Cyprus Poems, Chris Zachariou unveils a world of fantasy and coming-of-age emotions, crafting a poetic yarn that resonates with readers across generations. Through evocative imagery and poignant storytelling, he transports the audience to a bygone era in Cyprus, where the allure of youth, forbidden enchantments, and sexual awakening intertwine like a graceful dance.
The Cyprus poem dances between the realms of reality and fantasy, painting a vivid picture of two exquisite dancers lost in the timeless beauty of their art. The poet's use of language conjures up the heady aroma of prime tobacco wafting from the burnt-out valley, setting the stage for a magical journey through the scorching days of summer.
At the heart of the poem lies the profound connection between the two dancers, bound together in a world of music, motion, and the folklore of their land. The Venetian Lion, a surreal symbol of strength and majesty, becomes a witness to their enchanting performances, lured by visions of seasons yet to come and perfumed nights filled with untold promises.
As the tale unfolds, a contrast emerges between the god-fearing master, disapproving of the dancer's alluring escapades, and the troubadour's flute, a symbol of liberation and unbridled passion. The poet weaves these elements together, creating a narrative that brims with tension and allure, reminiscent of the transitional period of adolescence.
The danseuses' reminiscences add layers of depth to the poem, recounting the grandeur of the prima ballerina's nightly moves. Through their eyes, we witness the divine beauty of her performances, an ethereal display of grace and talent. The burden of her youth, gracefully carried by her dancing partner, speaks to the bittersweet essence of growing up and accepting life's inevitable challenges.
The poet captures the fleeting nature of time, mourning the passage of artless decades. The theatre, another surrealist symbol, now wrecked and wretched, stands as a melancholic reminder of the passage of time, while the once-mesmerizing prima ballerina has not graced its stage for years, leaving an indelible void in its wake.
Comments