Yarrow House

Four Balinese Dances

I. Kacek
In the dim, smoky light, the men’s brown 
bodies glisten and strain with their staccato chant.
Chek, chek, chek. From the seated 
circle arms fly up, fingers reaching toward
the dancer who glides around the sputtering fire,
herself a green and gold wavering flame.
Chek, cheka, cheka, chek. Her fingers bend 
and tremble. Her arms follow. Everything follows.
The chanting men fling themselves 
back into each other’s laps. Their 
chek, chek, cheka softens into the smoky night.
The dancer flames. The demon reaches out
and takes her. Cheka, chek, chek, chek.

II.Taruna Jaya
Narrow-hipped girls dance the youth of boys, 
wearing breatplates of gold-embroidered red brocade 
and headdresses of quivering white flowers
tipped by two bobbing red blossoms.
Brass tintinabulations lead them on.
They prance and dip, tease each other.
Fans flutter, poke, fold, and flip.
Suddenly another flies onto the stage,
winged arms flit and flash along 
the glittering rhythms of gongs and chimes,
point and counterpoint. They do battle,
fan and wings. They rise and meet
at the edge between courage and play.

III. Legong
Their bodies are wrapped in tight 
sarongs, saphire, gold, and ruby; red
and white flowers quiver on their heads
with their rapt tension. Drummers
hands, dancers’ feet part and meet.
Shimmering flames of bodies
dart and flicker about the stage.
Eyes roll and strain, glare and flirt.
Their fingers are always trembling,
wavering, moving at the extreme
of passionate intention. The music’s 
a metallic glitter they dance upon.
It rings them. They command it.

IV. Mask Dance
A demon pauses in the gateway,
looks around, edges down the steps
onto the dance floor, white, long-nailed
fingers quivering, trembling, fluttering
in a cheerful blur. He strolls.
He pauses. He holds his chest.
Those bulging eyes among banana leaves
would meet a surge of terror rushing out 
to flee his groping certain hands.
But here in the glittering night
he weaves his charm across the stage,
delight fluttering like white moths
at the ends of his elaborate sleeves.

Published in Duckabush Journal, Spring/Summer 1993

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Onetimen reproduction for non-resale purposes permitted by the author with the following credit line: by Judith Yarrow