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Roberta Maria Atti

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Narcissus
by Roberta Maria Atti → (All Poetry by Roberta Maria Atti)
   Rated "G" by the Author.
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The title says it all.


Poem Artwork

Narcissus

Narcissus was a boy
a long, long time ago,
whose beauty has been talked about
by many. And it was so,
that beauty was his gift,
and beauty was his curse,
but let me tell his story
I got from truthful source.

The gorgeous boy had locks,
around his lovely face,
jet black and thick and strong
and luscious with such grace,
that when the King of Ravens
came flying by one day
his plumage seemed quite ordinary
much to the bird's dismay.

Narcissus' eyes were blue
when he was by the sea,
and brightened when he looked up high,
like mirrors of the sky;
but when he wandered in the forest
they'd turn a deep dark green,
like emeralds that sparkle
from coffers of a Queen.

I do not need to tell you
how women loved this boy.
They'd gather round him day and night,
with smiles so sweet and coy.
The young and old alike,
each bosom full of hope
that maybe love would strike
and lovers would elope.
And yet it never came about,
his care was never shown,
for none of them could touch his heart
that beauty had turned to stone.

It just so happened that one day
Narcissus fell asleep,
while roaming through the forest deep
and for a time he lay,
until such hour came to pass
when darkness covers all,
and as he rested on the grass
a Nymph came for a stroll.

Her name was Echo, and sooner
much sooner than you'd think,
had seen Narcissus sleeping
and could not even blink.
Her eyes had never seen
such beauty, such display
of exquisite humanity,
of graciousness such play.
She sat right by him, watching
till dawn lit up the sky.
She waited with a joyous heart,
and many a dreamy sigh.

As he awoke she smiled at him
and touched him on the cheek,
caressed him with the loveliest hand,
for nothing she could speak.
Her beauty was so innocent,
so pure and rare a gift,
a jealous Gods had cursed her
by silencing her lips,
that only she could speak
if she was spoken to,
and only could repeat
what others would proclaim,
her own desires, her true heart,
she'd try to voice, in vain.

He smiled back and said: "Who are you?"

"Who are you?",

repeated Echo in earnest,
and hoped that he would know
she meant to speak but couldn't.

Her face would surely show
she meant no harm and no deceit,
but kindness and concern.
But as he rose he laughed at her,
ignored her in return.

He stole her heart and walked away
as if she were not there,
a cruel smile on his lips
without the slightest care.
"My beauty I should not seek
to waste on such a freak!
She cannot even verbalize
how masterful I look,
what good would do me to behold her,
for even if I shook
her body till she'd faint,
no sound would ever come from her,
no truthful words of praise,
for my fair beauty, for my charms
nor for my perfect grace".

Poor Echo could not cease
to think about the boy.
She tried to put herself at ease
but found no lasting joy.
Narcissus soon forgot about
the pretty little Nymph
who could not speak, sing, scream or shout,
whose tears were like sweet lymph.

She languished in the forest
surrounded by her friends:
fox, owl, deer or chipmunk
could not return her zest.

She passed away from broken heart
and she became a tree.
An Evergreen, and from the start
she knew her Soul was free:
her love would never die again
for Winter could not kill
with icy winds and frozen rain
her branches, strong and still.

Narcissus did not realize
how careless he had been,
his looks had made him not so wise
nor sensitive, nor keen.
The Elders of the forest,
in seeing his arrogance,
decided to impart revenge
on such a fool, at once.

They brought him to a pool of water
where nature seemed so calm,
they made him thirsty and he came closer
to drink the soothing balm.
But when his lips would almost touch
the surface of the lake
he caught a glimpse of his own beauty
and that was his mistake.

No longer could he feel
thirst, hunger, pain or joy,
the only thing that stabbed his heart:
a longing for this boy
he saw reflected on the surface
of the magic pool.
And so it was that, like a fool,
he starved himself to death,

unable yet to see
that real love is to be found,
though imperfect it may be,
all over, all around us,
within us and without,
and in the smiles of those who care,
and love us beyond doubt.

The Evergreen who loved him so
took pity on his Soul,
and begged the Forest to forgive
whatever love he stole.

Some Fairies heard her and decided
a flower he should be
made pretty for the pretty girls,
and scented for their glee.

And so it is that every year,
when blossoms melt the snow,
Narcissus comes, and flowers near
the Evergreen that know
what beauty lies within him
that he could not express.
For life is nothing but a bore
for those who cannot guess
that precious beauty lies inside
where hearts beat day and night,
and not outside on pretty faces
or looks that cause delight.

My friends this is the story
of lovers and of fate,
I hope you heard what glory
can everyone create,
in spite of sorrow, grief and loss
in spite of even death,
for Love is endless and immortal.

Relax, and take a breath:
Narcissus is a flower,
and Echo is a tree,
they live next to each other,
for you and I to see.

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 Reviews of "Narcissus"
Reviewed by Cryssa C
Reviewed on April 1, 2009
I think I like your version better than the prose version.... Superbly written.

Cryssa

Reviewed by John Domino
Reviewed on March 28, 2009
A poetic prize!

Bravo!

Reviewed by Amor Sabor
Reviewed on December 26, 2007
Excellent work...excellent story

Reviewed by Paul Shakespeare (Reader)
Reviewed on October 19, 2007
What a wonderful story and terrific write! I really enjoyed this story...(reminded me of one of Aesop's Fables <smile>)

Keep up the great "in-depth" thought-provoking works.
You can "spin a tale" with the best of them! <smile>

Take Special Care,
Roger


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