La Bella Simonetta
by T.S. Kerrigan
Sandro Botticelli reflects in old age on his model and mistress, Simonetta Vespucci
The Tuscan air was rarified
With casks of trebbiano wine,
With oranges, roasted pheasant, herbs.
I hadn’t come to drink and dine
That summer in the countryside.
Brown-eyed Venus, Brown-eyed Mary,
I came there with a lover’s plea.
I saw a pallor cloud your face
The moment when we rose to dance.
Your slender fingers left my grasp.
I knew your fate from that one glance;
My rival, Death, would take my place.
Brown-eyed Venus, brown-eyed Mary,
I felt you slip away from me.
A lutenist outside my door
Tonight plays those familiar songs
I must have heard a hundred times,
Of lovers’ virtues, lovers’ wrongs.
O Dio, let me hear no more.
