The Mask-Maker (Il Mascherai)

I am a mascherari as ten fathers before me.

Their magic lives through my hands,

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

Venice sleeps under the blackest night;

The morning brings 30,000 from many lands.

I am a mascherari as ten fathers before me.

Many seek my touch, my skill, my insight,

But the choice is mine, you understand?

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

Jewel glass blown, leather stretched—gesso white

Gold leaf gleams with the touch of my hand

I am a mascherai as ten fathers before me.

Feathers in black and white take flight;

The bauta keeps your secrets where you stand,

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

Black velvet, the soft shimmer of your veil—ignites

Fire unknown, you disappear with a wave of your hand.

I am a mascherari as ten fathers before me.

Enshrouding those I touch in mystery.

© K.D. Schultz