Scene VI {1940}It is our fault we love only the skull of BeautyWithout knowing who she was, of what she died.We have the thief's guilt, but not his booty,The liar's spasm without ever having lied.The sick locust scrapes his injured song,His thorax only partially destroyed.Retching is prohibited. It's wrong.The murderer feels no hate he can avoid.Now flies bite worst where the skin is broken.Illness triumphs. Lesions. Soon tumors sprout.The bloated plants quiver, the seeds will be shaken.'Your head's bashed in, darling. Look out.
The poem speaks to the human tendency to admire beauty without understanding its essence or the pain that often accompanies it. The speaker reflects on the guilt of loving an idealized version of beauty while remaining oblivious to its deeper truths and the suffering that lies behind it. This disconnection creates a sense of longing and regret, as we find ourselves hollow in our appreciation, akin to a thief who only desires the stolen beauty but lacks the true value of what was lost.
The imagery of illness and decay illustrates the consequences of this superficial love. Just as a locust struggles with its damaged body, people grapple with the repercussions of their ignorance towards beauty and life. Despite the inherent suffering and vulnerability, there is a sense that acceptance of these flaws is necessary. The poem ultimately reflects on the harsh realities of existence, where true understanding comes from confronting pain and loss rather than merely seeking out beauty's façade.
