`Le Badinage’ sketch 1, by Jac May, illustration for the poem 14th August 2018. Two young chaps sit on the wall above the river in Chinon. Badinage = idle, inconsequential chatter. This poem – a first version, and this being a first stab at a sketch to go with it – was inspired by the wonderful piece of music of this name by Marin Marais. You can listen to a terrific version of this music at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBLu0KQF80U
- I am not famous for my dancing
however, I feel utterly alive
sitting in my corner considering the wonders of the earth
and the glories of the day,
the aspirations of my life
(also, let me say, the beauty of my wife
the Arts that strew my way
and the mind’s constant rebirth).
I feel utterly alive.
Others set off fireworks,
hurl themselves into contortions of ecstatic dance
(I will always be glad of it,
always encourage you)
the beat of the music makes them move
and a melody transports them to a place
where ………………. etc
you can climb onto ancient monuments
and deck the dullest civic utilities
with brightly coloured flags and banners.
You with leaping joy do festival
and all the while I sit here
transfixed to the chair
by thoughts that will not let me go,
may even close my ears and eyes
to hear more profoundly the surge of bars
and see more clearly cascades of luminosities.
Dancing paralyses me.
I did try to dance,
but my feet step on my best intentions,
auditions, envisagings, imaginings and all my
crises of apprehension.
is not to be sullen or to fall by
the way of Life and true elation.
I am simply in a dream.
This is the story of my whole life,
left alone inches above the dance floor
of this burning Earth
abandoned to the antics of unchoreographed, crazy, leaping
Jac May, totally unfinished badinage, August 2018!