Chiascuro (On Cleaning The Sistine Chapel Frescoes) Poem by Sojourner Kincaid Rolle
Chiascuro (On Cleaning The Sistine Chapel Frescoes)
Ironic that the truth
should be sought
on the shoulder of Eve
The human form
melancholy draped
like second skin
Articulated contours
confluent dimensions
the lavish look
More shadow
less brightness
an uneasy light
As the workers cleaned
color no one had seen
emerged alert
Glue glazed layers
once transparent
fell away revealing
Golden violet
grazed with white
luminescence shimmering
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 2:26:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Excellent, Sojourner. What poetry should be: not a comment on the subject but the subject itself: clear, precise and unadorned. I like the three line stanzas and the absence of punctuation. Shows style and technique. What can I say? I wish I had written it. Martin