serenely twisted in the ugly shape
of pollarded trees or frozen
in the ridiculous gestures of the statues
until a little wind nudged ice aside and introduced
a growth to other
than his plans
that was the season he
attacked the garden like a furious disease
working it with weapons from his wheelbarrow
cutting back
cutting back until like every other thing
he ever showed me
spring
and that glorious garden
were entirely
in his power
VIII
Frost all over the garden softening green to grey
scale the day he returned there was frost all
over the garden and an onion skin of ice on the
discontinued fountains
he returned riding his horse with the glass eyes
riding him
needing no blinkers to camouflage his blindnesses
and all that white frost cancelling colour once again
except for
the black of his thoughtless re entry
and the blue of our cold celebrations
IX
On summer evenings they roll out from a man’s feet
until the fading out of light
glued
to the flatness of the ground
like rich shaped beds of earth
they glide past the mockery of monuments
and approach his architectural repertoire
where
finding walls
they bend in improbable locations
mid thigh or straight across the rib cage
forming new pliable joints for his confident
anatomy
the shadow illustrates the man
submissive curving when he least expects
to the fact of his own authority
long cast shadows
draughting out the spirit of the man
to the fawning shape of a bow
and he is broken
in the custody
of his own enforced obedience
X
Someone down the hall was working on his monument
I was riding like a sunset on the edge
of altered landscape
this proves I never was his widow
the rasping cough of chisel on the marble
created thirty feathers for the left wing of an angel
the jewellery he gave me was sliding to my knuckles
well cut stones of hot intended blood
technicians for his tomb arrived in numbers
to offer praise and redesign
his life for him their manners were dramatic
and assured the same as all his other false
invented memories
I was riding to the fire of the sun
it balanced on a side aisle of the garden
and I never really was
and am not now
his widow
though all these fishless ponds can reproduce for me
the darker shade of colour in my clothing
XI
I am walking in the garden of his imaginary palace
I do not need a guidebook anymore
I am completely familiar with the laws of puzzle
inflicted by his gravel pathways I am completely
familiar with the unexpected statues that interrupt
his forest and like the moths that every night
invade the lamps along the terrace
I’m moved towards a fire under glass
this landscape
so controlled as to deflect my need to burn
or to extinguish to bring about a quick decided
finish I am walking in the garden of his imaginary
palace where I feel the icy glass against my cheek
and while I fumble in my pockets for a purpose
all his green cathedrals turn to brown
his fountains to reflecting pools
crows clutter up
the sky and gates of autumn still grind soft to close
and then in time to cage
the winter
Photo Credits for Some Other Garden
Photographs of Versailles by Jennifer Dickson, R.A.
“Near the Grand Trianon.” Allée leading from the Grand Trianon, to infinity.
“Sphinx: the Belvedere.” Near the Petit Trianon, Versailles.
“The French Pavilion.” Near the Petit Trianon, Versailles.
“Through the Crystal Wall.” Reflections of Mique’s Belvedere; northwest gardens of the Petit Trianon, Versailles.
“Late afternoon: the Grand Trianon.” The Garden Drawing Room of the Grand Trianon, Versailles.
“Archway through the Queen’s cabbagepatch.” Hameau de la Reine, Versailles.
“Dawn Nymph.” Fontaine du point du jour, Versailles.
Copyright © 2000 by Jane Urquhart
Eleven Poems for Le Notre first published in 1982 as I Am Walking in the Garden of His Imaginary Palace by Aya Press. Copyright © 1982 by Jane Urquhart
The Little Flowers of Madame de Montespan first published in 1983 by The Porcupine’s Quill, Inc. Copyright © 1983, 1995 by Jane Urquhart.
All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher – or, in case of photocopying or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency – is an infringement of the copyright law.
CANADIAN CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION DATA
Urquhart, Jane, 1949–
Some other garden
Poems.
Originally published in 2 volumes under titles: The little flowers of Madame de Montespan and I am walking in the garden of his imaginary palace
eISBN: 978-1-55199-426-0
1. Montespan, Françoise-Athénaîs de Rochechouart de Mortemart, marquise de, 1641-1707 – Poetry. 2. Louis XIV, King of France, 1638-1715 – Poetry. 3. Le Nôtre, André, 1613-1700 – Poetry. 4. Gardens – France – Versailles – Poetry. I. Title. II. Title: Little flowers of Madame de Montespan. III. Title: I am walking in the garden of his imaginary palace.
PS8591.R68S65 2000 c811′.54 C00-931546-2
PR9199.3.U7S65 2000
We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program for our publishing activities. We further acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program.
Some of these poems may have undergone minor revisions.
McClelland & Stewart Ltd.
The Canadian Publishers
75 Sherbourne Street
Toronto, Ontario
M5A 2P9
www.mcclelland.com
v3.0
Some Other Garden Page 4
