Image: Medieval Town by Water by Karl Freidrich Schinkel. Source
Author: Benoît Rossel
It was rising, the bleaching globe,
Under the steely deep blue sky.
The leafy path was bright and trod
Our feet across the winding aisle.
Early and Oh ! Aimless morning,
Leading two minds out of their homes.
And while hours were colouring,
we went below the hazy dome.
And as the pines lost their shadows
We felt the warmth, we heard the cords,
And as we went on, Ad agio,
Reeds played the wind without discord.
Then I saw them, piercing the air,
And knew the aim of my journey :
In this chancel I may wander,
And gaze at its roof, curved and fair.
With hopes, to the plain, down I went,
Eager, my longing had begun.
Meseemed the bells rang in my head,
As the belfreys did globe the sun.
To the asylum, I arose,
And the chalky columns did glow,
Thousands of pale moulded roses
Under the curved arches I saw.
And the stained glass, solemn and high
Coloured my mind and flamed my eyes.
As crumbled hopes were far behind,
I stood under light, mesmerized.
Then, I heard it! Many voices
Undisclosed from the chancel sung,
All in one solemn mass rejoiced.
From the altar it came,
From the altar it broke.
And harmony shattered into hundreds of shades, blinding !
Angels, angels ! Curved and marbled angels,
Came trumpetting down the grounds, and the cathedral tuned to life.
And I saw the trancept melt, and I saw the mother, singing,
Nearing ! Out of her frame she went, to gather the symphony.
I heard them, the horses and their marching knights,
From the rose they marched and spinned, spinned, spinned around.
But in my mind, as gravity, harmony died.
And all the choirs in my head spread far !
Glass crashed, and spread to unleash thin white arrows,
They pierced the vaults! They pierced the walls and thrones,
And turned this heavy shrine,
Turned it! Into a thousand-faces dream.
Visions, delusions, I fell into heaven, and lost it all,
I drank the chimeras, Oh ! Distant fears !
Ache and grief dissolved, in this elusive fantasy.
And all did spread, and all did collide,
In my own private ceremonial.
I left the altar with elusive pride
As stars sprinkled the Amarynth sky.