Feeling restless after having been stuck in all day because of work on the computer, I decided to give vent to my feelings and go for a walk around my wild finca in the drizzle and mist. I was surprised to see the following flowers already out…
The photo of the narcissus flowers brings to mind the Latin tale of Narcissus and Echo from Ovid’s Metamorphosis.
Echo, a nymph who cannot speak except to repeat the last few words she has heard falls desperately in love with the beautiful and conceited Narcissus, who is in love with himself. He rejects her and she withers away, eventually turning into stone, and leaving only her voice behind which echoes around the world.
Fred Chappell (author and poet, born 1936, N. Carolina) wrote a poem of the same name.
(The italics in the following poem represent the voice of Echo.)
Narcissus and Echo
Shall the water not remember Ember
my hand’s slow gesture, tracing above of
its mirror my half-imaginary airy
portrait? My only belonging longing,
is my beauty, which I take ache
away and then return as love of
of teasing playfully the one being unbeing.
whose gratitude I treasure Is your
moves me. I live apart heart
from myself, yet cannot not
live apart. In the water’s tone, stone?
that shining silence, a flower Hour,
whispers my name with such slight light:
moment, it seems filament of air, fare
the world become clouds well. well.
Thank you for visiting — I hope this finds you well! xxx