| ARABESQUE |
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| Elena Malec, California ,1997 |
| Web page content and design by Elena Malec. California , 2001. Updated Dec. 2003. |
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| Background music: Fr. de Tárrega - Recuerdos de la Alhambra. THE CLASSICAL ARCHIVES |
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| THE LUTE PLAYER by M.M. Caravaggio @www..corbis.com/Alexander Burkatowski |
| One morning, when I opened the window the sun spilled on my Persian rug like a huge cup of Turkish coffee, bittersweet hot; yet, retaining all burned grounds for itself. Had I been a Gypsy fortuneteller, I could have read the signs in every spot I saw, or I'd have called the news reporters and, why not, I could have started a healing business; but I lack the marketing vocation. Had I had children of my own, I would have placed the rug in their room to watch delighted how they crawl and tumble and sit down on it with picture books, smeared top to toe by the caressing light; but I have not been blessed with children. |
| What I did was to slide the window, and draw the curtains shut - dazzle to my sight there was this arabesque sanguineous spill in the velours grenat; I kneeled on it and closed my eyes; one after another, all THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS came back to me in wreaths, like the bluish smoke from a nargileh, like the aroma of dark roast Arabica, like the sweet fragrance of blooming orange groves, and I heard the lament of lutes and wailing muwassahas composed by Yehuda Halevi in times of peace and splendor of Andalus. |
| "Open your eyes and watch me acting as your voice" urged our Representative in Congress. I did try for a while, then I knew I couldn't open wide my eyes again, because my sight was sore, very, very tired and old, maybe as old as Sepharad; besides I left my specs either in Baghdad, or in the Patio de los Leones, and nobody, not even I could tell the entrance or the exit of my hell - this beautiful enchanted Alcazar in which I will be groping to my eternity. |
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