The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve
William Blake, c. 1825, watercolor on wood
His muscles stand out in wooden relief.
Bare flesh runs from blue black shadows of hills.
The distant red sun tears fingers through grief
darker than mother’s hair, the boy’s final shroud
her limp body a bower for his will.
The father behind her, eyes searching still
for the son that remains. He wouldn’t dare
look down at his slain son. Mother’s cries trill.
The marked one escapes, tearing his hair
in one moment separated from goodness.
When family ends whose wail is loudest?
2 comments:
Wow Dr. Basile, trying not to sound like a suck-up here, but you really took a classic story and added a depth to it that I never captured from my original readings of the old testament. I found myself jumping between the image and poem like a kid with ADHD gone wild (oh wait, I am a kid with ADHD) and found myself really enjoying the words and facial expressions of the different characters. It was also telling of not just the story's character but what each individual character was going through without needing to retell the entire story. Very cool
I agree with Wai, including the part about not want to be a suck-up, but I really enjoyed how you analyzed what might be going through the minds of each of the characters, something I had not much considered despite having heard this story before. A good spin to an old story!
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