Ode to Olympia*

Finding Thou, on thy bed,
Looking at Us, with a calmed face,
Naked, stark, visible Profound , Thy Innocence,
Challenging the Civil, The Uncivil too,
By the Greater Reality, of Only Only You,
(Even, not looking at The Black Servant Yours,
Whom You hath kept as Your Suitable Company,
That Black Servant, whom upon You relied the most,
Who hath cometh with flowers true,
Only for you, as a worshipper,
But You being So True, never even giving that a view,
Those flowers which You love the most,)

I, just stay fully shocked,
Dismayed becomes how my heart,
And how thy Holy Fire engulfs me,
To take me Soul, to Thy Act of Blasphemy,

O Thou Olympia , True,
Naked, Stark, beyond Physical entity,
Pray You, come to me and my City,
And by Thy Feverish Eyes,
Thy Naked Gait, Thy Brilliance,
Make all go lie, right there, at Your feet,
Where You, The Warrior Divine, just with
Disdain Lie, as Manet found Thou
In years few hundreds, before we were born,
And before we became democratic, by an Independent morn.

(*Note: upon a painting by Edouard Manet, exhibited in 1865, taken by me from E.Manet's Archive, kept at Musee d'Orsay, as opposed to Titian's identical painting, in which Olympia had been shown differently, with Her left hand curled, welcoming the World, also , like Manet, sensuous but stark , real, and even more strong and bold, challenging the utmost).