deepundergroundpoetry.com
Sabine
based on the Rape of the Sabine Women, a story from Roman mythology
The curtain rises on a scene
of pastoral delight,
shades of green
in gay abundance fight
for eminence.
What’s due: a penitence.
A penitence is always due
when life becomes too beautiful.
Tranquility cannot be borne
if it’s perceived before a mortal dies.
And so the north-east Roman woods
trembled on that bygone day,
when its belonging to the state
was not yet certainty.
The women enter left and right,
calling up to theatre gods,
playing in the scenery,
naked from neck to waist.
They play like sex
has not been known
(to harm or be deployed
like arms, at least).
She lies in foliage like doe.
Her sister picks the small flowers.
Another hears men fighting, though,
and rising up from their bowers
the women hear her nervous call.
The leaves begin to brown and fall.
A spray of viscous, bright stage blood.
Sounds of shouting, swords, trumpets.
The women scream and are kidnapped
by men in helmets, not much else.
The men themselves are played
by actors broadly beautiful,
abdominal muscles outshined
only by savagery.
But where the innocence
of woman’s nakedness
was unburdened by weaponry,
the men’s was uglified, ironed.
The audience are horrified.
The playwright’s taste is on trial.
And then a Sabine woman walks
into the fray and outstretches her arms.
She pleads not just for clemency
but also deeper thought,
a place beyond anger, where agency
is glorified and for its own sake fought.
She is truly Sabine, and on her calls
and bloodied breasts, men weep, the curtain falls.
The curtain rises on a scene
of pastoral delight,
shades of green
in gay abundance fight
for eminence.
What’s due: a penitence.
A penitence is always due
when life becomes too beautiful.
Tranquility cannot be borne
if it’s perceived before a mortal dies.
And so the north-east Roman woods
trembled on that bygone day,
when its belonging to the state
was not yet certainty.
The women enter left and right,
calling up to theatre gods,
playing in the scenery,
naked from neck to waist.
They play like sex
has not been known
(to harm or be deployed
like arms, at least).
She lies in foliage like doe.
Her sister picks the small flowers.
Another hears men fighting, though,
and rising up from their bowers
the women hear her nervous call.
The leaves begin to brown and fall.
A spray of viscous, bright stage blood.
Sounds of shouting, swords, trumpets.
The women scream and are kidnapped
by men in helmets, not much else.
The men themselves are played
by actors broadly beautiful,
abdominal muscles outshined
only by savagery.
But where the innocence
of woman’s nakedness
was unburdened by weaponry,
the men’s was uglified, ironed.
The audience are horrified.
The playwright’s taste is on trial.
And then a Sabine woman walks
into the fray and outstretches her arms.
She pleads not just for clemency
but also deeper thought,
a place beyond anger, where agency
is glorified and for its own sake fought.
She is truly Sabine, and on her calls
and bloodied breasts, men weep, the curtain falls.
Published 27th Dec 2020
Author's Note
The painting is The Intervention of the Sabine Women, dated 1799, by Jacques-Louis David
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
27th Dec 2020 8:58pm
27th Dec 2020 9:18pm
You know I have a small statue a friend gave me of what I imagine is either the Rape of the Sabine Women or Hades abduction of Persephone. It's a classic Greek looking fellow holding a struggling woman aloft.
Nice control and fluidity to your syllabic harmonies, I prefer when rhymes are not AB end line schema. You open by setting the scene and then move into an insightful observation, nicely establishing dimensions and interest. Stanzas 4 & 5 grip me quite with their elegant observances. In stanza 5, the aside flows into furtherance of the tale, beautifully worded on the whole, showing intelligence and familiarity with word craft. At this point I'm beginning to see the artful entendre of the piece. Describing the myth in terms of stage and play acting, it counterpoints the human barbarity of it, which is truly so commonplace, but also it speaks to me of our common lack of compassion, in how we observe the cruelties we inflict upon each other with a removed sense, a lack of relevance for that which is not inflicted upon us personally, Anyhow it makes me think of that. Your close does seem to support this idea of the whole being a spotlight on human nature, as she calls for awareness.
Going over it again, just easing into the flow of the storytelling without minutiae, it strikes me how adroit your crafting is, nothing superfluous, a single scene which brings across its message with mellifluous subtlety. It's something quite rare in the circles I tend to read on site, reminiscent of classic authors. A lovely place for me to begin my early evening reading. 💖🙏
Nice control and fluidity to your syllabic harmonies, I prefer when rhymes are not AB end line schema. You open by setting the scene and then move into an insightful observation, nicely establishing dimensions and interest. Stanzas 4 & 5 grip me quite with their elegant observances. In stanza 5, the aside flows into furtherance of the tale, beautifully worded on the whole, showing intelligence and familiarity with word craft. At this point I'm beginning to see the artful entendre of the piece. Describing the myth in terms of stage and play acting, it counterpoints the human barbarity of it, which is truly so commonplace, but also it speaks to me of our common lack of compassion, in how we observe the cruelties we inflict upon each other with a removed sense, a lack of relevance for that which is not inflicted upon us personally, Anyhow it makes me think of that. Your close does seem to support this idea of the whole being a spotlight on human nature, as she calls for awareness.
Going over it again, just easing into the flow of the storytelling without minutiae, it strikes me how adroit your crafting is, nothing superfluous, a single scene which brings across its message with mellifluous subtlety. It's something quite rare in the circles I tend to read on site, reminiscent of classic authors. A lovely place for me to begin my early evening reading. 💖🙏
27th Dec 2020 10:17pm
Thank you, Daniel, for your extremely insightful and thoughtful commentary. I appreciate it. x
