Francesco Londonio, Reclining Cow and Calf in the Open, 1758-9
Etching heightened with white gouache on blue paper, 28 x 22.1 cm
Image courtesy of the National Gallery, Ellwanger/Mescha Collection
Where wind is hooves and clover blooms as song
the world spins, new to sin, virgin to blood.
The first cow licks her calf. She’s done no wrong
except to witness fallen fruit, the serpent’s long
body around a branch. The grass beneath it, good
where wind is hooves, where clover blooms as song.
After one sin, a hand from heaven kills a strong
beast. Leather dries as clothing on a rod.
The cow licks her calf. She’s done nothing wrong,
and now she overhears her Maker go on and on:
cursed are you above all cattle.* Her new road
winds cold. Clovers’ blooms and hooves as songs
in destiny: the snake’s daughters to tongue-
fulls of dust, the cow’s offspring to knives, prods.
Still she licks her calf (who’s done nothing wrong)
and nurses him. Knows he’s destined to atone
for man. Even now, a boy chops maplewood
in the wind. Hooves and clover touch as song.
The cow thinks she can lick away the wrong.
*Genesis 3:14