Chagall's "Homage to Apollinaire"

Golden, the dawn that was Eden,
retaining its hold
like a stain
that seeps into,
sleeps in the old and the new,
in the spokes of the wheel,
determined,
at odds with the flavours
of earth, fire and sea.

God's wheel of fortune
constantly spins,
rising on one side,
falling the other.

Day of Judgement, the image;
Medieval, the style.
And what of mankind, of Adam and Eve
who are joined at the hips,
not a fig leaf in sight,
his hand on their sex,
their two torsos split,
set apart by their difference,
diverging at last.
Eve's with desire -
the apple preserved -
achieving their promise of genders deserved.


Evicted from Eden
not just mankind,
but the whole of his poetry,
science and art.
His mouth is a rictus,
not fit for purpose,
hers is for song.
She carries the banner
of culture for man.
He's twisted in pain.
Between them they bring
to Earth Eden's reign.

             *

Click below for the four names Chagal has inscribed around his heart.

Canudo

Walden

Cendrars

Apollinaire