Listening to Monteverdi - poem by Robert Bly
I come from a long line of Protestant revolutionaries
Who refused the old marriages with Rome,
But I’m still hoping to sit at Moses’ side.
Every night the old angels call to us,
Promising good things. For centuries the oysters
Have been opening and closing at Moses’ side.
For centuries I have been no one at all, tossed
Up and down, a wild bird in the storm, and yet all
That time I have been sitting at Moses’ side.
How can it be that we are sons and daughters
Of Danish tribesmen, barely Christian at all,
Yet all this time we have been sitting at Moses’ side.
We know how easily we can veer off the road,
And get stuck in the snow, though all that time
We still imagine we are sitting at Moses’ side.
Let’s forget the idea that we are the old ones, chosen
To carry the creation. We are all latecomers
To the earth, still hoping to sit at Moses’ side.