Wednesday, April 11, 2007

Atlantis — A Lost Sonnet by Eavan Boland

How on earth did it happen, I used to wonder
that a whole city — arches, pillars, colonnades,
not to mention vehicles and animals — had all
one fine day gone under?

I mean, I said to myself, the world was small then.
Surely a great city must have been missed?
I miss our old city —

white pepper, white pudding, you and I meeting
under fanlights and low skies to go home in it. Maybe
what really happened is

this: the old fable-makers searched hard for a word
to convey that what is gone is gone forever and
never found it. And so, in the best traditions of

where we come from, they gave their sorrow a name
and drowned it.


Wheatfield by Claude Monet

Return of the Prodigal Son by Rembrandt

The Fall of Icarus by Breugel

Still Life with Coffee Pot by Pissarro

The Birth of Venus by Botticelli

St. Paul's Basilica by Giovanni Paolo Pannini

Cypress Trees with Moon by Vincent Van Gogh

The Empire of Light by Rene Magritte

The Reader by Gerard

Jack-in-Pulpit Abstraction by Georgia O'Keeffe