When the deadly
incident quenched out, ‘The bell-ringing woman’ drove me in her chariot into
the historical streets of Tuscany, a portion of Edward’s soul was then with me.
I felt high
compassion for that Poor wretch, alas! Edward. His ‘wanderer’ form incarnated
in me. I longed freedom like him too, it was interpreted. The bell-ringing
woman wore her sunlight dress, beautiful than ever before. Nothing did satisfy
her, she imparts knowledge as well as consciousness. We reached above the vault
of Uffizi² and descended from the chariot and walked across the narrow
courtyard between palaces’ two wings with its view towards Arno².
‘Inquisitively I
pondered about Edward, the humanity’s grudge and politics that ruined his human
form. I wondered why human found the furnace of solitude, sometimes
self-destructive, careless even he shows the courage to kill his comrade since
an enmity was born in him.
The bell-ringing
woman took a beam of sunlight from her neck and pointed to my brains, she said
with a response to my pondering mind
‘Man, see the
yonder sun, it survives, yet human moldered beneath the sprouting grass.
See the relics
of the shattered palaces here’:
She aimed me a
few ‘Hellenistic Art’. The one that attracted me was the view of daughter of
Niobe² bended by
terror.
‘Look these
statues
— powerful human frames create them, yet it
wonders the human whose life is waning fast’. She added
I gave a gaze on
Niobide² a powerful
stony art
and
mingled the sculpturer, who created that beautiful art — am sure he would now became a human stone!
THE BELL RINGING WOMAN
My questions
began to encompass brighter, with my respect towards the ‘The bell-ringing
woman’s’ knowledge, which was brighter than any heaven.
‘Would be Edward
remembered anywhere, among their friends, relatives or any of his dear one’.
Hearing my question,
she smiled upon me and said:
Edward is living
still in his melancholic parents, I know why your questions escalate, look
yonder Lima— she is crying with her broken heart. Look yonder
Charlie and Jerry — they are drinking more wine today. However, there
will come a time for those ruffians, as the earth is revolving with day after
night.
Yet no men are
foreign yet, see in distant skies — Death
awaits everyone.
She drove me
into the hallway, shown me the wonderful tapestries of the bygone art.
It was beautiful
than one could explain. I stuck upon the incredible painting TondoDoni²,
Ah! Silk-woven,
beautiful.
The bell-ringing
woman gave a smile seeing my aesthetic love and she said:
‘It’s a
marvelous experience of being with a human form, your wonders stimulating me, I
could as well learn the human feeling, his savors and his unending enthusiasm’.
I walked across
the painting gallery, and stood pondered upon
NITHIN PURPLE
seeing
Botticelli’s²
colors of mind; there was Raphael²,
caravaggio²,
Giorgione²
and many more wonderful art.
I longed— I longed for years to visit Galleria
dell’Accadedemiam²,
this occasion I used to visit there, I urged for a visit to there, and
explained to ‘The bell-ringing woman’ my intense wishes, she said
‘Behold!
Galleria dell’Accadedemiam’,
No— No— It’s
not a Dream that I been in, I reached inside the gallery as a swift
My eyes are
filled with golden ray of exuberance; my muse guides me into the gallery
There stood the
reflection—the reflection of human masculinity— Carrara²
made David²
Thick courage
filled into my nerves, the wonder! The wonder has made my dreams fulfill. I
hold my fist firmly to fulfill my creation.
Then we surfed
across Arezzo² and happened
to see the medieval, Gothic art culture and statues.
Across the
pastoral fields of Pisa²,
my gravity with ‘The bell-ringing woman’ was much greater, She shown me the
exceptional Piazza dei Miracoli²,
then guided across Prato²,
Siena², and Grosseto²
Lucca² and San
Gimignamo².Departing
from Florence the six hours journey to Amalfi coast² reduced to five seconds— due to the ‘The bell-ringing woman’s powerful
visionary pace. We reached there and relaxed looking its beautiful mountain
cliffs and blooming floral eyes.
Leaving Italy, I
was obliged to ‘The bell-ringing woman’, who gave her enriched spirit, which converts
human feelings to write and express. I would rather feel a loss if I miss Edward’s
soul.
THE BELL RINGING WOMAN
The bell-ringing
woman heard my mulling mind and she gave a reply:
O’ my pondering
man, sorrow is a sea of unexpected, so count not its waters now. It is the
right time for your transformation, come we fly across the Mediterranean Sea.
COPYRIGHT MATERIAL @ NITHIN PURPLE
COPYRIGHT MATERIAL @ NITHIN PURPLE
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