Madonna was made of marble,
Glistening white, flawless texture;
And she was the pride of the town.
From far afar people came,
And blessed were they with the wonderful sight,
Their eyes widened as she shone
Even though the sun was beyond shores.
Had you seen the smile on her face
That spoke volumes no one could understand,
Had you seen her gown of lace
That ran from her ankles to the wrists of her hands,
Oh then would you know a little bit
Why young hearts would in such spirits be,
Or why the maidens in neglect would wait
For one who said, ‘I love thee.’
The name of the marble reached far afar,
And there lived a prince so mad,
Summoned he the man who carved
The beauty that made his heart so glad.
‘Thou man of magic, what hands God gave thee,
Canst thou make a beauty that can flatter me?
They gave thee no honour, for all could see
A work so great demanded a greater fee.
Thou make me a beauty such, and rich shall thou be,
A price shall be paid that only one can to thee.’
In pain was the man, for what answer could he give?
‘O Prince, My Lord, divine hand came
And chose a marble so rare,
Divine hand came and struck the chisel fierce,
Divine hand cut the corners with care;
And all think that this man of blood
Has magic that made Madonna rare.’
And rage that no mortal eye ever saw
Shone in the eyes of the Prince,
Quivering lay the artist on floor
In pity unseen, before or since.
‘Thou filthy liar, how could thee dare
To deny my offer unique!
Poor soul, I shall make thee such
That men will close their eyes, or be sick.
I shall cut thy head with sword my own,
I shall gouge thy eyes indeed;
Your tomb shall be the pedestal
Of Madonna that is but thy deed.’
Oh! The decree that came out of his mouth
Was to be turned to reality;
The grave sordid lay beneath
The beauty which looked down in pity.
‘That Madonna makes me mad,
(As though he were not that from before)
I wish that it be brought here
Before it makes me sick more.’
And the army that marched shook the earth,
Came legs and hooves numberless;
For a piece of marble that was dumb
Lay now a city in mess.
Then the Prince saw Madonna
And rose he to hug her, alas,
For the marble broke in pieces
As hammer breaks glass.
-5\12\98,Calcutta-63
