the lute

I’m in the doorway - a shadow, a blur,
Balancing things on a tray,
Watching the two of them doting on her,
Watching her choosing her prey.

She’s an enchantress and I’m just a maid,
Somebody faceless and mute.
I’m in the doorway. I’m feeling dismayed
Watching her playing the lute.

Look at her carelessly plucking the strings:
How can her music enthrall?
Wish I could tell her what sorrow it brings,
Stopping it once and for all.

Always invisible, always unheard,
Dutiful, somberly dressed,
Wish I could rescue the music from her,
Cradle the lute to my chest.

Music is something you never betray,
Destined for love, not defeat.
I’m in the parlour. I’m letting the tray
Fall with a crash at her feet.

Gabriel Metsu, A Musical Party, 1659


Рецензии
Людмила, у Вас есть удивительная способность подмечать, казалось бы, второстепенные персонажи на картинах и наделять их Вашими мыслями, которые могли бы быть и мыслями художника.
Кстати, короткая аннотация к картине, "For seventeenth-century viewers, symbolic elements such as the foot warmer would have indicated an atmosphere of indulgence and temptation.", подтверждает Вашу идею.
Всего доброго

Михаил Сонькин   14.07.2023 00:14     Заявить о нарушении