LUCERNE

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Through the meandering afternoon park  

That trickles by the river and boatyards

Down to the lovely, illustrious lake,

Passing statues, jetties and picnickers,

Sleepers, children’s playgrounds and a juggler,

We amble along shaded sylvan paths

Until, after a warm but well-spent hour,

We reach a white mansion with green shutters.

The Wagner House at Tribschen stands august,

Raised on a landscaped mound overlooking

A wooden boathouse, shrubs and cypresses

With red seats of readers and view-finders.

A single white sailboat drifts lazily

Through gaps in the tall trees by the lakeside,

Barely rippling the tranquil blue water, 

As it floats from one frame to another,

Foregrounding the green forests and white clouds

Which crest the blue Alps, clear in the distance,

As sunlight catches the meadow flowers

Sloping down away from the flawless lawn.

Wagner composed the Siegfried Idyll here -

And an idyllic place, it truly is,   

But then we remember what a fascist  

The old, long gone genius was at heart…

Before we leave, we decide, however,  

To trust - rather than the artist - the art.

We depart by way of an outbuilding

That houses an ultra-modern toilet,

All clean stainless steel with push button seat

And whirlpool flush. On the wall, a small hole

Opens a chute, above which a graphic

Of a syringe minds us that the word ‘idyll’

Means idealized, unsustainable…

Then we slowly walk back out of this world

To the world of inconvenient fact,

But with our digital pictures intact.

(2014)

This came out of our first visit to Switzerland. England has become a country cursed by graffiti and litter, with my hometown of Leicester an increasingly bad example. Zurich and Lucerne, by way of contrast, were spotless but, even there, amidst so much apparent perfection, little flaws would appear at the edge of your memory and vision…

 

The photo captures the yacht as it 'floats from one frame to another' towards the end of the first verse.