Swiss Landscape And Eyes To See Poem by Ananta Madhavan

Swiss Landscape And Eyes To See



Rain-wash. Now the water-coloured view
Comes limpidly to light; the grass assembles
Blade by blade as Van Gogh might have slashed it.
The slate sky forms resolutely
From Seurat specks, and the fauve
Creature in the foreground could have been
A cow-hipped Gauguin model, berry-sweet and raw.
Only, the edges dissemble,
Penumbrally ambiguous, spill over
Into semi-Circularama,
And will not be contained in angled frames.


In galleries I reconstruct
The painter's artifice,
Life is still, Life is still life,
A conjugation I must learn with pain.
Art is fusion and transfusion,
But the artist luckily commands
The freedom of rectangular constraint,
A prison-walled parole,
Not having which I ask for Argus eyes.

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