Now we’ve arrived at the third of a series of poems on details from Madonna del Libro, by the Italian Renaissance painter, Sandro Botticelli (1st & 2nd linked below). You are welcome to chime in with your own perspective in the comments!
Botticelli detail No. 3: the book ‘Now, as day fadeth quite, we see the evening light’ -from Vespers hymn, O, Gladsome Light (trans. Robert Bridges) Oh look, out the window, the dimming sky, trees in shade! It is dusk, the Hour of Vespers and, indeed, Our Lady already has Her book of hours* open to that one among the eight that are Hers. And as she reads, the Child on her lap, His hand above the page in pause with Hers, we sense Her weariness, the day is long, and see that She has grown solemn. No wonder, for She may have just turned from the illumination that we know must bring Her back to Her dear Joseph leading Them to Egypt, far from Judea and Herod’s rage. And the Child, mindful, looks on in care as if He knows Her mind, as indeed He does, and all the while we can’t help but hear the Hour's prayers: hymns, psalms, litanies, in Her honour. For in our seeing, our listening, we know the book is Her and She the book, that She does not read, nor does She turn the page. Unbound by Time, She does not need to: it is for us; that is for us to do.
*Art historians seem to agree that the Virgin Mary is reading a book of hours, a devotional book popular in medieval and Renaissance Europe. Central to its function were prayers said daily at eight canonical hours or ‘offices’ in honour of the life of the Virgin Mary. Generally, each hour in the book would be accompanied by an illumination depicting a key event in Mary’s life.
An elegant poem.
Beautiful poem! Very contemplative! 💞💖👏