Two Pieces
Sarah Das Gupta
The Language of Flowers - HAMLET
‘HAMLET ACT 4 SCENE 5
Ophelia: ‘There’s a daisy. I would give you some violets.
But they withered all when my father died.’
Herbs and blossoms speak
nature’s true faithful heralds
love loyalty
lost
Rosemary is for my brother in remembrance of our dear father’s death. Pansies, with their sad faces are for you too, Laertes. Think of our great loss. Claudius, I give you fennel for Flattery and Falsehood. You, are not worthy to be King of our ancient kingdom. Here is Columbine for both King and Queen, foolish, adulterous royal couple. Rue, plucked from a funeral wreath, for Gertrude, a reminder of regret. I hold daisies, with their white innocence. Who can claim them in this court of spidery intrigue and betrayal? Look at these dying violets, withering at the horror of my father’s death.
Flowers speak for me
Deep sorrow makes me silent
Death my only
path
Note Shakespeare uses the language of flowers in many plays, including here in ‘Hamlet’ where Ophelia speaks her grief through a posy of herbs and flowers. Also, in ‘Midsummer Night’s Dream’ where Puck uses ‘Love in Idleness’ or the wild pansy, to trick Titania.
Names to Conjure With: FLORAL MESSAGES
Dog’s Mercury
A name to conjure with, ‘Dog’s Mercury’
It draws us to the ancient canopy,
the deep green shade of oak, beech and elm.
Its hairy, dark emerald leaves with finely toothed edges.
keep company with the deep lakes of bluebell woods.
Here a century’s no more than the blink of an eye.
Tiny, secretive green flowers seek sanctuary in leafy, cushioned clusters.
Night food for beetles, snails and green, black-dotted crickets.
Its presence guides us back to the sites of lost woodland,
ancient habitats, too soon forgotten.
Bird’s Foot Trefoil
Its yellow, egg-yolk petals, touched with red,
give this ground- creeping perennial
its popular name – “bacon and eggs”.
As the strengthening summer sun shines on pastures,
or sunlight penetrates cracks in ancient rocks,
the trefoil reflects the joys of spring
with brilliant, vibrant patches
like a thousand scrambled eggs.
It safeguards and protects
against the encroaching dark.
Symbol of the Trinity,
its leaves were woven into Midsummer wreaths
to ward off harm.
Its strange bird-claw seeds are sown
along roadsides to prevent erosion.
Tom Thumb or Baby’s Slippers or Granny’s toenails
the trefoil answers to them all
NB ‘Dog’s’ means here inferior/less important than other plants of the ‘Mercury’ family which are more toxic. This ancient plant is in fact toxic for many animals, including dogs!
In the Victorian language of flowers, the Trefoil is symbolic of vengeance! Yet in the 16th century it was added to wreaths as a symbol of the Trinity. A case of mixed messages?
Sarah Das Gupta started writing at 80, very late, an emerging poet making up for lost time!