(scroll down to hear great violin music by Taraf de Haidouks)
In mountainous region
Where the winds can drive
One to do more than shiver
Lived willful Maja
Setting her hopes on a stranger
Come to hunt on nearby lands
Used to running alone like the
Goats she tended
Her dreams crossed the border
Becoming real in her mind
So she insisted herself upon the hunter
Who persistently ignored her
His thoughts only of his beloved prize back home
Maja’s voice seduced all the young men
She tried again:
“Dearest man from a strange country
I dream of your touch all night
Shelter me in your strong arms
“Til we surface in the light.”
But the stranger remained aloof
Maybe he did not understand her words
But the melody’s meaning was so plain
A passionate song in a minor key
Of unrequited love’s terrible strain.
“I will sell my blood to Beng!” Maja cried
“Help me quench this unstoppable fire!”
Beng, the devil, handsome and tall
Appeared among her goats
Assuring her of the heart’s desire.
“Whoso looks in this mirror will be mine
And I will gladly give him to help you”
Maja glanced in the obsidian mirror
Single-minded in her pursuit
Sure-footedly moving down the mountain
To piedmont of forest and deer
Where the stranger moved silently among his men
All thought drowned in burning desire
Approaching him with the dark reflector
He stopped his quest for deer
To see what she held
Seeing himself
Then recoiling in horror, recognizing
The object as the embodiment of a legend
Told to young boys and girls
He turned and ran
Into the deepest forest.
Crying for Beng and begging for her prize
The devil appeared with a new plan
“Where are your four brothers?
You must give them to me.”
Maddened Maja led Beng to their cottage
Nighttime dreams woven among the breaths
She showed him the bed sheltering
Four young boys
Arcane words uttered as Beng approached
Touching the eldest, the once-beautiful boy
Metamorphosed into a long string
Thick-gauged for volume and powerful sound
Next were the twins both medium gauge strings
Perfect for an evenly balanced tone
The youngest became the thinnest gauge string
Brightening notes even when played alone
Beng then found the parents
In a bed behind a drape
More words sent out into the night
As the father changed into
A formed hollow box
And the beautiful mother segued into
A stick, only her fine thick hair remaining
Producing
A heavenly vibration from her locks.
“I name this LAVUTA! VIOLIN!” Beng declared
Picking up his creation, heavenly sounds
Wafting into the spheres
But Maja cried and begged for her hunter
No care for family
Beng laughed and left, giving her the violin
And Maja played for love
The lure of the mystical music
At last brought the Hunter
Who for nine perfect days stayed
Beng returned demanding they worship him
Maja and the hunter refused, as one
Beng roared out more indecipherable words
Forming a chain, chained together
Leading them away from the haven in the mountains
Gone! Gone from the world and the setting sun.
Comes a Gypsy after a full moon phase
Finds, amid the pines, violin and bow
Magically, his fingers know what to do
Playing in thorp and town where he will go.
Other Gypsies touch the music maker’s magic box
Forming their own from wood and metal string
Only the Gypsies can make others cry
Only the Gypsies can make this box sing.
DOSTA (enough)!
© 2014 Clarissa Simmens, Poetic Alchemy: Talking Blues
IMAGE: “The Red Violin” Gypsy scene from the movie
(Listen to: Turceasca by Taraf de Haidouks on Youtube)
poeturja 