I have a sensation
of great physical comfort and calm as I move at random through
this huge labyrinth. Sometimes I can feel almost inaudibly deep
organ notes moving through me from the walls and floors.
I glimpse red geranium petals floating on the waters of ornamental
fountains in the courtyards. Dragonflies hovering. Peeling frescoed
walls. The moist scent of many bright flowers. White waterlilies
with golden interiors. Heavy goldfish gliding beneath the dark
waters. Yellow iris glowing against banks of shadowy fern. Lobelia,
ancient tangled wistaria, pyrocanthus, honeysuckle, forget-me-nots,
hosta. The harsh cries of peacocks from other gardens.
Faint figures in steam showers. Carved stone arcades with curved
glass roofs opening to shafts of sunlight. Vines and blossom
dangling from the hanging gardens above. Long ribbed and vaulted
aisles with rows of chandeliers holding hundreds of lighted candles
that cast a dim antique glow on distant choirs below.
Long rows of partially ruined and overgrown arches stand against
a clear blue sky, illuminated by long evening light.
I go down the aisle between them. In and out of their shadows.
Huge slabs of fallen masonry and pillars and statues lie half
hidden in the undergrowth.
I pass down into courtyards full of pale climbing roses. Bronze
figured fountains covered in verdigris spraying bright spectrums
into the late sunlight. Groups of young people stroll or sit,
talking and laughing and lovemaking in the shade of overgrown
grottoes and dim niches in the ivied stone walls. Fireflies hover
under the warm shadows. |
