{"id":3588,"date":"2015-02-27T21:20:47","date_gmt":"2015-02-27T21:20:47","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=3588"},"modified":"2015-04-09T17:45:00","modified_gmt":"2015-04-09T17:45:00","slug":"lament-of-maria-maresciallo-at-the-funeral-of-veronica-franco-a-poem-by-marie-marshall","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/lament-of-maria-maresciallo-at-the-funeral-of-veronica-franco-a-poem-by-marie-marshall\/","title":{"rendered":"Lament of Maria Maresciallo at the funeral of Veronica Franco. A Poem By Marie Marshall"},"content":{"rendered":"

 
\n 
\n\"cropped-tintoretto-veronica-franco1\"<\/a>
\n 
\nI recall our hand-signs in carnival,
\nthe silver rings on your white gloves,
\nyour fingers making to me \u2013
\nyou are daytime, Wooden Mary,
\nthese are evening and small hours.
\nThat was your name for me, and with it
\nyou hurled stones and rotten fruit
\nwhen our friendship became tedious;
\nbut at other times you rested your head
\nagainst my shoulder and sighed,
\noften a lover\u2019s name, a Saint\u2019s name,
\nbut still it was I who felt your sacred breath,
\nits scented play on my cheek.
\n 
\nTintoretto and Titian worshipped you, you know,
\nand your lover the Saint, he adored you;
\nbut I was your sister, the only initiate of Berenice,
\nI wandered your depth and breadth, nave and aisle,
\ndanced in your wake, walking on water by your magic,
\nswam in your subtle flow, submerged, miraculous;
\nI traced the letters of<\/strong> A M O R E <\/em> in the air
\nwhile you were lost and looking away, inspired,
\nmade kisses inside my mask, daydreamed of you.
\n 
\nA single<\/strong> balotina<\/em>, a single mourner,
\nher hand resting on your coffin
\nwhere the wreck of your beauty is caught,
\nI look around, above \u2013 the planes still fly,
\nthe <\/strong>vaporetto<\/em> is full of Japanese,
\nthe world somehow has not stopped,
\nand under my breath I say:<\/strong>
\nIte, pensier fallaci e vana spene\u2026 <\/em>*
\nYour house has fallen, the<\/strong> Ca\u2019 Franco<\/em> overthrown,
\nin secret it has crumbled away, it is dust,
\nforgotten, your pages have been torn from you,
\nripped from your gold-chased spine,
\nthe book of your life is defaced;
\nbe written on me still, Veronica \u2013
\nwhile I live let them read you in my plain face,
\nall the words of love, the true looks,
\nthe eyes behind the mask<\/strong>, verit\u00e0;<\/em>
\nand when a flourish sets the <\/strong>fine<\/em> to me,
\nlet me close and lie beside you,
\nbook to neglected book, closer in this finality
\nthan we have been in life.<\/strong>
\n 
\n* Editor’s Note: Leave me, foolish ideas and useless hopes
\nattributed to the sonnet of Veronica Franco\/or Veronica Gambara.
\n 
\n 
\n\"Marie<\/a>
\n 
\n 
\nMarie Marshall is an Anglo-Scottish author, poet and editor. Her first collection of poems, Naked in the Sea, was published in 2010 and reviewed in Sonnetto Poesia that same year, and her second collection, I am not a fish, in 2013. Since 2005 she has published over two hundred poems, mainly in magazines and anthologies, but the most extraordinary places in which a poem of hers has appeared include on the wall of a caf\u00e9 in Wales, and etched into an African drum at the New Orleans Museum of Art. Her first novel, Lupa, was published in 2012. She is well-known in Scotland for her macabre short stories. Her web site can be found at mairibheag.com. Of writing poetry and sonnets she says, \u201cI did not start writing until 2004, so I am very much a twenty-first century writer. I write anything, any kind of poetry that I feel the urge to tackle \u2015 sonnets included.\u201d
\n<\/strong>
\n 
\n 
\nrobin@artvilla.com<\/a>
\nPoetryLifeTimes<\/a>
\nPoetry Life & Times<\/a><\/strong>
\neditor@artvilla.com<\/a>
\nwww.artvilla.com<\/a>
\nArtvilla.com<\/a><\/strong>
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      I recall our hand-signs in carnival, the silver rings on your white gloves, your fingers making to me \u2013 you are daytime, Wooden Mary, these are evening and small hours. That was your name for me, and with it you hurled stones and rotten fruit when our friendship became tedious; but at … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[170,43],"tags":[18,136,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3588"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3588"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3588\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4039,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3588\/revisions\/4039"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3588"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3588"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3588"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}