Alfonso Maria de Ligorio tells
how the devil, astute and seductive,
used the delicious stimulant that dance creates
to occupy the senses,
used unwary and bewildered maids, in the delirium that leads to the abyss.
That irresistible
owner of the night,
and his opulent castings of the net: no woman declined
to lose herself in his arms.
It was, after all, the eighteenth century:
to the blurred beauty of the lost angel
add brocade, stockings like cresting waves
on his delicately curved calf,
arrogant heels and smooth wig,
his weightless hands, like lilies,
barely emerging from the abundant lace sleeves
and the brash beauty mark guarding his smile.
It’s easy to understand how any woman, eager and enchanted,
from ripe young ones to grave family matriarchs,
all of them, who would attend a dance,
dizzy, with their cleavage in plain view,
would swoon into oblivion.
…Oh, sweet negligence!…
In the boudoir’s most hidden place,
she’s tender and dazed: against her will, she left
her holy medallion and her golden stop, please stop.
It was, after all, the eighteenth century.
Translated by Dan Sheff
The Gift of Experience
10th Anniversary Anthology
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The Most Beautiful Night
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